Wild

by Didi Sprint

Nyx had a perfect life since she has been torn from the jaws of the bloodthirsty timberwolf. She had a careful owner, who even maintained and re-built her wing so she can fly again. Being a green haired, white-bat with different colored eyes, she became a helpful hero acting despite her looks. One morning she wakes up...not feeling like herself. Taking one long look in the mirror;

It had been two weeks and 4 days since she woke up as a joke. Since she committed her last sin. Since she betrayed the last person. She vowed never to repeat it again, yet here she stood, the bustling and winding streets of Los Angeles, all alone, in the form of a human. Such form she didn't know she could take. She was a monster. Not the helpful white bat young Crystal Rune found in the Everfree Forest in the jaws of a timber wolf. No. She wasn't Nyx. But if she wasn't who she thought she was, then who was she? Parts of her brain were screaming at the stupidity of her decision, while her instinct decided there was nothing better to do then to set off into the city, a place where she can start over, and not betray anyone again. With her dark makeup and neon green hair, the side-glances from strangers and whispers weren't making this any easier. She heard every name being thrown at her, as if each word was a form of trash and she was the bin. Trying to run away from it was a childish thing to do. That, and she couldn't. The big clock above the restaurant said 0:00 am. Nyx stopped in her tracks to stretch, yawning, then watching the warm inside of the restaurant with lust; she hadn't had a bite to eat in a long while. As she was licking her lips, the familiar stings in her bottom lip appearing, her green eyes giving off a soft glow, her warm breath leaving a clouded stain on the clear glass windows. Soon, one of the waiters stormed outside. She had not noticed him, and when she turned to face the noise, she felt almost as if he would take her in and offer her a meal for free.

"Get lost, punk. Find another place to vandalize." he waved his arm at her in disgust. Her eager smile turned to a sick, sad expression.

"I'm…I'm sorry…" she tried to make it up to him, putting her arms in front of her in a way proving she means no harm. The cold-hearted waiter didn't give in. He crossed his arms.

"Get lost, or I'll call the cops on you and they will take you to creature rehab." Those words stung more than the cold fall wind on her delicate skin. She remained frozen. Shakingly, she brought up a bionic arm, gloved in leather, to her mouth feeling two fangs.

"I'm not a vampire…" she said softly, the words leaving behind a white fog in the air. The glow of her eyes gave in, forming round tears at each base. She let them fall like rain, running away from the restaurant, and trying to escape the horrible truth. Nyx ran until her legs could hold no longer. The abandoned shelter of a homeless man swayed softly in the wind, beckoning her to come in. She crawled inside the bigger cardboard box, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. This was the only situation she couldn't get herself together in. Clearly, she was not a vampire. She didn't have the fangs all the time and her attraction to blood or meat was limited. Every night in the cruel world made her regret her decision even more than the day before. She missed being Crystal's pet bat, she missed helping her through her psychotic phase, and bringing her materials every time she built some new and quirky invention. She missed the feeling that brought her heart to life when Crystal fixed her wing ripped off by the timber wolf, replacing it with metal that did an even better job. She tugged the glove off of her bionic arm, wiggling the metal fingers in the darkness, feeling its coldness with her other hand. She threw her head back, hitting the soft wall of the box, letting more tears fall. She knew that her life as a bat was a game of pretend; a joke. She despised the fact that she had to find it out the hard way. Only a curse could change one's form so dramatically. Oh, how she would do anything to find out who her real family was, and who placed this curse upon her. It's gonna be okay…she grew up to a lulling symphony of those words. No memory of the owner of such a comforting sentence. The calm voice was repeating them, filling her up with echoey sounds. She rested her head on her knees, and slowly allowed slumber to take over her. She was ready to start the search again the next day. Becoming more bulletproof to the words and the bad impressions she was making by the second. Every time she got closer to a possible clue, the though of returning to the castle rushed back. Forget it. She'd think, what are the chances she will ever take me back anyway? Crystal was the most sensitive thing ever, complete with big tears that stained her dainty face deeply. The only tears Crystal hasn't caused herself, but the only person, or bat, she had ever trusted entirely. Nyx understood the pain; she soon after felt it on her own skin. But unlike others, she couldn't bear it! Sometimes all she ever wanted was just to be herself. And this wasn't an issue of self-insecurity, but she was incapable of doing so. How can you be yourself if you have no idea who you are, what you are, and why you are here? It was even worse than waking up with amnesia. In fact that would have made Nyx's situation much easier to bear, but erasing one's memory was a sign of dark magic, such that only demons could perform. She wasn't a demon either. There's no such thing as a good demon anyway. If there was only a way to make people believe her without brainwashing of any sort. Helpless Nyx had tried every sort of potion shop, publishing her story to the witch in charge of it, explaining her symptoms, and trying to identify her species. None of them knew of any form of 'bat curses', mind that, or her funky species. If she hadn't left the castle so rapidly, she was sure Crystal's oldest sister would have some sort of book on unknown species or on bat spells. What if being a bat truly wasn't a curse after all, what if it was her human form that was placed upon her to stir conflict and distract Crystal while a danger was ready to take the best from her. Otherwise she was caught inside this blurry glass case, she could see around her but she couldn't see further. She couldn't even sit on a bench without someone accusing her of doing or dealing drugs. What if all of this was just a bad dream inside a dream, and she would soon wake up clutching the bottom of her wooden stand with her claws, her wings wrapped securely around her. Dreams, as bad as they are, can't hurt you as much as reality. She thought. She had been walking for a while that day. Reaching a port. She sat down on one of the edges, allowing her feet to dangle, barley reaching the water. She stared at her reflection intently; perhaps it was just an observation error that was the solution to all problems. The sky above was proving a white background, the weather not being necessarily cold as the night. It was silent apart from some footsteps and the water swishing. The footsteps quickened, getting louder, more joining into the symphony, certain voices were heard in the distance. Nyx listened, realizing there was nothing positive about the situation. Just as got up and spun on her heels, she was face-to-face to a familiar looking girl, just a little older than her. Now, there are many detailed and fancy descriptions of fire, but for this one it was simple: her hair. It flowed down to her waist in sturdy C shapes and despite its crackling and licking at the atmosphere, it didn't affect her, or burnt her in other words. A glowing birthmark of a star, was attracting all the attention to her forehead. She was wearing a dark blue cloak, pinned up by her shoulder in such way that one would get a clear glimpse at the red one-piece and dark knee boots underneath. She adjusted her hat, a sly smirk spreading across her face.

"Hey." She extended one arm, the sleeve of the cloak. There would be many words to describe her but friendly. Nyx hated judging people. She bit the inside of her cheek, hesitating to shake hands, "What's wrong, pigtails? Cat's got your tongue?" she sneered, chuckling soon after. Nyx flushed. If there was no deep body of water behind her, she'd casually turn and run away from this situation. "Name's Ashton. What about yours?" she grinned. Nyx hesitated. She couldn't say she was Nyx, for she wasn't the white bat with the name meaning night because of irony. She thought for a second.

"Harlow. Name's Harlow Blade." She smirked back. Fragile, but not scared easily. Ashton glanced back warily. The voices were and footsteps were getting louder. She quickly shot Nyx a look implying she wasn't done with her. "Good to know. See you around, pigtails…" she snickered, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Almost as if she burned through the atmosphere. Interesting creature. There was something odd about her, but as soon as Nyx was putting the pieces of her puzzle together, six or seven SWAT agents invaded the port, looking everywhere until they locked their eyes on Nyx as if she was the target. She clutched her fists and gritted her teeth.

"She changed her form! There she is!" she heard them shout, approaching her. Ashton had set her up, for crimes that hadn't belonged to her. Very smooth. Nyx thought. She barley even met the girl and her true side showed up.

"Confess of threatening to vandalize and cause murder by the restaurant 'L.A Nights', vampire." Or not. The tip of the gun was leaving a mark on her forehead already. Nyx gulped. The only way she could prove herself right is to show them through her actions. She wasn't given a chance to in this situation, and boy was she tired of being called that.

"For the last time. I'm. Not. A. Vampire!" she screamed, struggling from their grip. No success. She tugged left and right, though the gun had not budged an inch away from her forehead and the agents did not look the least pleased. She gave up, panting, her glare glowing bright, her fangs on full display. This time…I won't hold it down. Her back gave off an unbearable pain. She shriveled forward, letting her ears extend and her nose to morph. Two bony and shattered-looking wings shot from her back, still dripping with gore, slapping the officers holding her back across their face, their guns dropping; choosing surprise over combat. She screamed, her palms pressing onto the cold cement. Choking back another storm of tears, she bit her tongue and rose up, hiccupping under her breath. Were they…scared of her? Without wasting more time to question the strange happening, Nyx took off running, daring not to look back. She needed to consult the supernatural energy of the Everfree forest. She needed to never be found by those guys again. Perhaps she would find that timber wolf. She had never run so fast in her life, trying to avoid crowds or any other agents of that matter. Her wings making her feel lighter, yet heavier at the same time. She avoided glancing at her reflection as well. For to bear all that pain to morph into an even bigger freak than you were before, and simply glance in a mirror to observe what you have become would simply shatter that mirror. Along with your heart. After running for what seemed like a lot of ground to cover, Nyx stopped in an alley, leaning on the wall and trying to steady her breath.

"Hey pigtails," a familiar voice from behind her sneered. She didn't need to turn around to know it was no other than Ashton.

"Get lost." Nyx snarled. Ashton didn't change her present, not even slightly to turn to leave. She tapped her on her shoulder. Nyx gave in and turned to her sharply.

"Looking for this?" Ashton grinned, waving an arm in front of her face, the space being replaced with a levitating mirror. What Nyx saw…she couldn't run away from. She couldn't keep staring either. She growled at the grim reflection in front to her, the negative energy shattering the mirror, leaving Ashton with a shocked expression.

"Stop following me." Nyx said simply, pushing her out of the way and continuing her path towards the forest. Roads were getting steeper, and narrower, somehow obstacles seemed to be appearing in Nyx's way as if someone was customizing an obstacle course based on her escape. Finally, the cement streets became soft, moist, and green. The energy swirled around her, her heartbeats quickening, a small smile growing. The forest had been her favorite place as a child. Grinning at the calm and creepy path of the fairy forest ahead of her, she spread her wings, flapping a couple times, and maneuvering through the trees with ease, snaking in a couple tricks, letting trills of laughter escape her from time to time. Her spirit lead her to the closed in meadow where she would come regularly, to take in more wise energy and embrace the magic of enchanted nature. The happiness giving off a rewarding stab in her limbs, her wings, ears, and nose disappearing, Nyx flopping down onto a pile of leaves under a maple tree, sending the brown and orange butterflies of leaves dancing around her. She was laughing so hard it seemed unhealthy. She giggled to a stop, snuggling to the pile of leaves still beneath her. Nyx felt around her, until she discovered the grassy covering. She pulled out an old acoustic guitar, running along its smoothness with her bionic arm. As a bat, she had always had a passion for music. Crystal had built her a bat-sized guitar, but it was the real thing Nyx had yearned for the real thing all along. Her following birthday, Crystal had created her a real-sized guitar that could change from acoustic to electric without requiring an amplifier. It had become her prized possession since, and built a special place for it in the meadow she claimed to be her muse. She let her fingers be caught, emitting a minor chord.

"Well I'm not a vampire, but I feel like one…sometimes I sleep all day because I hate the sun…" she sang softly. Pleased with her little verse, she strummed harder, "I'm insane, well I can feel it in my bones; coursing through my veins, when did I become so cold?" she made her song take a turn into a powerful solo, her hands gliding up the neck of the guitar skillfully, pushing down in all the right places. Her eyes gave off a satisfactory glow, her fangs reappearing, but that was about it. If she could live out here and play music for the rest of her life, she wouldn't have to deal with bloodshot eyes, strange side-glances, unwanted assumptions, and worst of all dangerously dark alleys. But she couldn't. Nyx had to take her heart in her teeth and solve the enigma that had been hunting her for the whole of her life: who was she? She placed down her guitar carefully as the thought that the goodness was limited, and she'd be forced to return back to the city. She sighed, not really being the type to procrastinate, she anyways laid down in her leaves, turning away from her guitar almost as if she was doing it in shame. A frustrated teardrop left a light smudge in her messy make up. Scrunching her eyes shut, she gritted her teeth, forcing her scarred self into slumber. It's gonna be okay…the voice returned, putting out all the flames inside Nyx's soul. Temporarily at least. The phoenix family above her providing the warmth she needed in order to have a comfortable night. It almost felt as a 7 star hotel should feel like. It would have been even better if Crystal had been there. There was no going back to the past. Nyx woke up early the following morning, a pile of berries neatly stacked next to her bed of nature. Hunger beating her curiosity of how they got there and who placed them there, Nyx dug her way through the berries quickly, ending up satisfied for the first time in possibly forever. She stretched carefully so her only leather garments wouldn't break at the seams. Just to be safe, and never miss music as much as she had, Nyx decided to take her guitar along, especially if she had stalkers. She made her way back to the city passing through the White Tail Woods. This time Nyx had her subconscious set on finding clues about her self. No matter how minor they would be. And if not a clue, perhaps a safe place to stay in or a way to collect money and hold herself alive until she'd find a vivid source of clues and hints. She had reached a part of the city she had never seen before; unlike the bustling city filled with lights and modern buildings coated in thin layers of dust, this part looked deteriorated, broken, and almost abandoned. The further she got, the poorer the buildings became. From golden, fancy and exclusive restaurants, to shacks and pubs meant for the ruffians of the streets most likely. It wasn't the strange landscape that struck Nyx, but the huge hotel in front of her. The sign was hanging lopsidedly, reading in dusty and broken calligraphic letters 'Darrington Inn'. Nyx could almost see the success this place must've had…in fact she could see the success this little part of the city must've had. It was almost saddening; as if it had taken a drastic change. Nyx oddly related to it. A happy town, a rotten outcome. Curiously, she cracked open the door to the hotel, leaving fingerprints on the glass. A sudden thumping was heard, slowly turning into a faded beat. Nyx listened so intently, she almost shrieked at the sound of the door closing behind her. The reception was dark and grim, the once lit-up chandelier hanging by weak wires from the worn out celling. The thumping got louder as she looked around the halls of the first floor, paintings of significant figures displayed askew, often times tilted and ripped. She passed by the elevator just as it dinged, announcing its arrival to the floor. She gasped, pushing her back to the wall, clutching her guitar for protection. Out of the elevator stumbled two girls, tipsy and most likely drunk. Looking rather similar to Nyx, one had half her hair shaved, leaving the rest in a wild, bright red mess, the other had a large bleu Mohawk. Either way, they looked as if they mistook their faces for pincushions and washed their hair in hairspray. They wore the same dark makeup as Nyx, as well as clothes, one would say. They both straightened up, or terribly attempting to, and nodded at Nyx.

"And what are you doing here?" the redhead slurred, smiling sheepishly at Nyx, "The party's down there!" she pointed a tipsy finger to the ground, laughing as if that was the most hilarious joke she had ever made. The blue-head rolled her eyes and shoved her.

"Excuse her, she can be an idiot sometimes. What she meant to say is that performers should make their way down for the gig." She motioned to Nyx's guitar, "You play, right?" Nyx nodded.

"Yeah, for quite a while actually. Never performed in front of a crowd before…" giving it some thought, the gig didn't seem like a bad idea at all…perhaps she could even gain money if she won.

"Sweet. Perhaps you can show them what you got. Would love to see that six-string in action." She jutted her chin at the Nyx's guitar again. Nyx grinned.

"Looking forward to it. I'm Harlow Blade." She extended her bionic arm to perhaps make acquaintances.

"Wow! That's so messed up!" redhead slurred again, gaping madly at the robotic structure of Nyx's right arm.

"I'm Rox, and that's Scar." Mohawk spoke up, rolling her eyes again. Nyx noticed the sides of hear head; tattoos of music with a deep meaning behind them probably. Rox had two drumsticks shoved in her side pocket, and unlike most drumsticks that get replaced usually by every performance, those looked special.

"You play too?" Nyx wondered.

"Sure she does! Rox bangs the crap out of drums every night!" Scar piped in. This time she didn't roll her eyes, but smiled.

"Yeah, I'm sort of decent…" Rox admits humbly.

"Oh. My. Chemical. Romance! We should tots start a band!" Scar squeals. Nyx's eyes widen

"Great idea! Guys wanna play together?"

"Well, we're gonna have to eventually…" in a blur of time, Nyx was being dragged onto the spotlight with Rox and Scar. Scar took her stance at the microphone and Rox gave her an assuring glance from behind the drum sets. This was it. The empty hotel hall was filled with punks from allover, loud and impatient, waiting for music. With a switch of a button, Nyx began strumming whatever came to her mind, just to find that Scar was naturally making up lyrics, Rox hooking them with what sounded like some difficult pattern of rhythm. They synchronized as if they had been rehearsing the song for months. Nobody realized their last minute impromptu song. Once Nyx brought it home with her solo, she stopped thinking about her fangs or glowing eyes, despite them being on full display in front of people who could be making assumptions and judging her with every chord she strummed. She swung her guitar on her back, and jumped off the stage, following Rox and Scar's lead. She felt like a rock star; it felt as if she was finally being appreciated for who she was…was that it? Nyx froze. In the middle of her tracks. A smile spreading wildly across her face. This was it then. One clue down: she was a performer. She stayed there, stupid smile and all, letting self-achievement and light fill her insides until Scar started waving her hands in front of Nyx's lost face.

"Um…dude, are you alright?" she heard a confused Rox say, as soon as her focus shifted back to reality.

"Yes!" she shrieked, smiling, "yes, yes, yes, yes!" gathering them up into a surprise group hug, jumping up and down and spinning around. Stirring up more confusion between them, as well, that is. However Rox and Scar shrugged it off, ushering Nyx to the bar where all the most likely stolen liquor was, to toast their musical victory. She had never placed her lips upon a glass of alcohol before, but watching her new soul mates, so to speak, enjoying its taste so entirely and have a good time was causing an impossible atmosphere for her to refuse such offer. She lifted a bottle from the counter, reading it slowly, her hand shaking knowing that was a sin. 'Tequila' it read. She brought the bottle to her lips, tilting it slightly, taking a proper taste from it. She coughed at the way it burned its way down her intestines, leaving her wondering how the others could handle it as if it was water. She took yet another sip, this time feeling as if it was salt she was rubbing in the burned wounds the last gulp left. She slowly placed the bottle on the counter, the room suddenly spinning in all directions, her head feeling as if it fell on broken glass. Some pasty substance was crawling its way slowly up her throat but she couldn't spit it out. Her eyelids protested, gluing themselves shut, revealing a black curtain before Nyx's eyes. Everything around her was soft. However it felt too soft. So soft and comforting it hurt, both her head and her stomach. Almost as if she was lying down on 'soft' pebbles. When the glue of fatigueness faded from her eyes, she let the dim light of a bulb fade into her range of view. Rox and Scar were standing over her, concerned expressions on both of their faces. Soon to be crossed with reviled looks, that is. Nyx failed at attempting to stand up, the similar spinny feeling from last night returning to the room, the agonizing throbbing of her head returning shortly. She groaned, spitting at the sordid taste her mouth decided to provide.

"Where…where am I?" great. Nyx thought, I have just added to my enigma.

"Home!" Scar giggled excitedly, while Rox was shoving a large glass of milk into Nyx's face.

"Drink. It cures hangovers." She instructed. Nyx took a small sip, this time aware of how much to drink, moving it around in her mouth; hoping to wash the putrid taste away. It worked slightly, and she stood up, looking around. What Rox called 'home' was a room, belonging to the hotel and equally as old and as beat up. The furniture was only one couch and two mattresses; the cupboards and closets have been tightly wrapped in bubble wrap, clearly implying not to disturb their state because they are uselessly fragile. Despite its simplicity, it appeared to be doing its job as a home pretty well.

"Nice…place…" Nyx slurred softly.

"I know right? And since you're here too, me and Rox though you should live with us!" Scar smiled, as if deciphering people on severe hangovers was something she could do with her eyes closed. Rox nodded in approval.

"If you want to, that is. No pressure." Her words echoed even more than the lullaby that speaks to Nyx every night. She rested the glass on the floor and laid back down, groaning, rubbing at the pain in her temples but only making it worse. Not because of the overly kind offer. She would do anything to be in the city but not sleep out on the streets in some sort of uncomfortable temporary shelter. In fact, living with Rox and Scar would be perfect.

"Too soon?" Scar blinked at an un-amused Rox innocently.

"What do you think, dipshit? You can't just overwhelm people with hangovers like that, especially first-timers like her!" Rox pushed scar rather roughly, she splattered onto the floor next to Nyx, laughing as if that was their form of tickling.

"That would be a great idea….guys…" Nyx managed to say after a minute or so of Scar's mad, nonstop laughter, "I don't really have anywhere else to go…" that statement even stopped Scar from laughing.

"What do you mean?" She sat up, balancing forward slightly on her hands. There was absolutely no instinct or feeling or anything that made Nyx happy upon discussing the topic. She was not willing to either. A hurt look that had nothing to do with her throbbing skull caused her face to scrunch.

"Look, if we're gonna go ahead and swap life stories, I think I should have dibs on going first." Rox spoke up, noticing Nyx's reaction. She took a deep breath, and allowed the story to cascade from her mouth. "I was 12 when I decided that music was my life and that everything I ever wanted to do was linked somehow to music. I was playing drums in the school band even before that, and pretty much lived up to a rep. of being a popular and great drummer."

"Yes you did! Yes you did!" Scar gushed.

"Don't interrupt me." Rox snapped, "As I was saying, once I hit the age of 12 I knew drumming was…my destiny! The school band wasn't really giving me much freedom in creating rhythm patterns and usually the songs we played…wouldn't be something I would necessarily l listen to now…or even showcase and play to the world. So I decided to quit school and become rouge. Which…well it was pretty dumb of me; I was a fugitive at the age of 13, with no money or shelter, mind that or food. Sadly enough, my family hadn't even bothered to look for me. That would've made sense…all that was left of my family was my father, who was an alcoholic, and well…abused a lot. When I left I wanted to reconstruct myself…start over. That is when I got this baby…" she stroked her Mohawk proudly, "bright, blue n' bold! And these things?" she motioned to her tattoos, "When I got the Mohawk, it looked pretty bad; the places where you see cool tattoos and designs were the places of scars that abuse has left me with, and had somehow formed a pattern which I soon designed into tattoos from. I've used drumming as a way to reserve my anger, stress, frustration and passion all at once, that's why Scar doesn't lie when she says I 'bang the crap out of drums'. I discovered this place a year later. I've met people…" she sighed deeply, "Who either died of overdose or moved on. I lived off of performing, hopping from band to band but not moving my place."

"And…a year later….you met me!" Scar exclaimed enthusiastically. Rox rolled her eyes, smiling though,

"That's right! Then I met Scarlett Madeline Van Proben." She sneered. For the first time Scar did not look amused, "But even though her name sounds completely regal and I should probably stay away from her life story otherwise she's going to jump at me, Scarlett over here prefers you call her Scar…or else…" Rox chuckled at the evil glare she was casually receiving from Rox.

"Wait, so…how come you're who you are, yet you have the name of some royalty?" Nyx chuckled, the fact that stories can be almost as bad as hers helping her hangover ease slowly. Scar rolled her eyes.

"I come from a noble family, but I've always hated that life. The singing lessons I took were too disciplinary and oh so…terrible! I didn't even require singing lessons, when I can be up on stage singing whatever hits my mind and forming it as a strong opinion." She summarized shortly. Clearly she dreaded bringing up this topic. Ruined her image of a punk.

"What about you, Har?" Rox nodded at Nyx. Her heart froze. She knew her turn to pour out her heart would come.

"Well…it's kind of a long story." She said quickly.

"Oh goodie! Long stories are my favorite." Scar smirked. There was no way out of this.

"I used to be bat…then I turned into this." She motioned to her human form, that statement really got their attention, "I was princes Crystal Rune's pet, believe it or not. After all, I did owe her everything after she found me in the jaws of the timber wolf in the Everfree Forest when I was a baby. This?" she took the glove off of her bionic arm, "This was the left wing that had been torn off when the wolf had clasped its teeth around me. Crystal had repaired it for me so I could fly again, and I suppose it stuck. If you want a story about me…I'm sorry but it's hard to stay honest. That's the main reason why I'm here in the city: I want to find out who I am! Hell, I don't even know if my name is Harlow or Nyx!" her eyes were giving off a soft glow, outlining the words of despair coming from her mouth. Of course, soon enough, her fangs aroused as well. "And please," she sniffled, "don't call me a vampire and accuse me of wanting to cause harm. Because…" turns out she wasn't over the fact that she had betrayed Crystal so badly, "because leaving someone in pain is the last thing I want to do!" she used that as an excuse to dissolve into tears, little neon green droplets smudging yet even more of her eyeliner in tiny streaks down her face. Rox and Scar didn't have the same reaction others would have had. They exchanged looks, then waited for Nyx's fit to be over.

"Look, unlike the rest of the world, this place is for people like us. The minute you leave, you won't be putting anyone in pain but yourself. There is no way anyone can throw you out." Rox spoke up.

"Besides vampires are totally awesome!" Scar smiled comfortingly, but just hearing that word slip out of her mouth was driving Nyx insane. Rox glared at her, "what? They are to me!"

"This only happens when I get a strong feeling of something. And when I get angry…" Nyx sighed, "I turn into a monster. Not by killing people…by simply being myself."

"They're gonna clean up your looks, with all the lies in the books, to make a citizen out of you…" Scar sang, drifting off.

"Because they sleep with a gun and keep an eye on you, son so they watch all the things you do..." Rox chimed in. Nyx recognized the song.

"Because the drugs never work, they're gonna give you a smirk 'cause they got methods of keeping you clean!" Nyx finished. They laughed, as if that song had been the explanation to all their issues and concerns about the overly judging society outside the safety of their broken-down hotel.

"There ya go!" Rox winked, "Scar knows exactly what we're talkin' about. Even if it's in the form a My Chemical Romance song."

"Speaking of songs, we have to participate in the band battle tomorrow night. It's the biggest event and if we win, which I know we will, our band will get so much admiration!" suggested Scar enthusiastically.

"I'd be up for a little competition; but we don't have a title to be known under…" Nyx tapped her chin in thought.

"I've been thinking about that and I've always wanted to be in a band called 'Death by Dolls.' You know?" Rox admitted. Scar smiled,

"I'm in! Nyx?"

"Hell yeah!" Nyx laughed.

The spotlights were deflecting glittery illusions in the corners of Nyx's eyes. The whole room was packed; Scar wasn't lying when she said this was one of the biggest events of the year. The competition had been tough on them too. Every word sang; every chord being strummed drove the crowd insane; and it was true for all bands. As they got on stage at last, Nyx's gaze shifted to the judges sitting patiently in the front row. One had an orange trihawk and heavy sleeves of tattoos up his arms, one had shaggy black hair that covered his eyes, but behind strands of thick hair you could see his lip rings and eyeliner heavier than Nyx's. Then, sitting in the lap of the one with dark hair, stood a hot pink-haired girl, her bangs covering one eye, and her long straight hair was pulled back in two low pigtails. She was wearing the skimpiest 'punk' outfit one could ever find, complete with a huge pair of pink headphones resting casually around her neck. She seemed to be having a great time, rocking out to the music, and smiling friendly at the competitors who just have stepped onto the stage. She has done so with them.

"Next we have….Death by Dolls, performing a cover of hmm…Let Yourself Go, from Green Day! Well, guys, I'm out, I think we have a winner!" She cheered. They flushed, not commenting back, and launched straight into song, Nyx playing violently and on beat at the same time; exactly what made a good punk song a good punk song. She even let her 'powers' go even wilder this time, hence the song. The judges seemed to be approving of their choice and performance as well. Since they had waited to be the last number, 'so they can see why you save the best for last' according to Rox, they didn't have to wait much until they selected a winner. The pink-haired judge sashayed onto stage, the pulse throbbing in Nyx's eardrums as the winner speech was being made. She fiddled with envelope which held the money and the name of the winning band.

"Now, I wanna say that, that was the best concert ever!" She squealed loudly, causing everyone to wince, "but well, as you may know, I can only pick one winner, and because I hate suspense I'm gonna just say congratulations to Lonely Glitch!" She turned around to give the hardcore boy band a flirtatious wink, "well done guys! I'm Theme Song, and this has been Punk Battle Xtreme! See you next year!" she hugged each one of their members, handing the lead singer the envelope, and hopping off stage in the storm of applause. Nyx, Rox, and Scar had the most blank facial expressions ever. They trudged their high platform-ed feet back-stage, in shame, similar to all of the other bands.

"It's my fault, I totally stretched the vocals and it threw Har off." Scar said in a low, guilty tone, looking down.

"Don't worry Scar, I think I didn't even have good grip on those chords up there." Nyx sighed, disappointed in herself.

"Well a song needs rhythm in order to be good, and because of my incompetent lack of rhythm look what we've done!" Rox spat, throwing her drumsticks randomly in rage. "Let's hit the bar before I end up eating one of those so-called 'punks' who claimed our prize." Rox hissed, already making heavy steps towards the direction of the bar. Nyx and Scar followed behind, still in deep dismay. The crowd was filling up the lobby so much, Nyx lost Scar into the crowd soon. Since she found it impossible to make her way even at least another two meters in the room of sardines, she tried to nudge her way towards the door and take the hidden entrance to the bar. She pushed the squeaky door open, gasping at the crisp air outside, sending chills of relief down her spine. She recognized the pink judge, being pinned to the wall by the dark haired one, viciously making-out without interruption. When she saw Nyx, her eyes widened, and pulled away.

"Hey you!" she pointed, walking up to her. Nyx stopped and turned around, giving her a dull expression. "Look I know you're upset your band didn't win, but it was hard enough for me as is to become one of the judges. If they let me pick the winner…well I'd have to sleep with…" she motioned to the guy she had just been kissing discreetly, then shuddered in disgust, "this band battle thing…I wanted you to know the judging isn't fair. The only reason they won was because they shared a premium joint with Axel and Jace! At least, I think that's the reason." She spoke quickly in a low voice. Axel was lighting up a cigarette, puffing desperately the numerous chemicals into his lungs with pleasure. "I'm Theme Song, founder and co-Founder of the music production company, magazine, and radio station MyMusic Teenz!" She pulled out a business card out of her fluorescent bra, handing it happily to Nyx, who smiled sympathetically but shook her head, refusing to take them. Theme rolled her eyes and smiled, and shook her hand instead.

"I'm Harlow Blade." She was a little surprised at Theme's sudden energy.

"I know! I'm a huge fan of music; and I always remember good musicians like you!" she ruffled Nyx's hair playfully.

"Great…" she tried fixing it back.

"Well, cool then. If your band ever needs support of any kind…you know, like stage costumes, eyeliner, new instruments, gigs, boyfriends…" she faded off, "I'm your girl!" Theme winks, giving Nyx the air guns, then waving, and returning back to an impatient looking Axel. Looking down at her leather glove, she noticed that Theme somehow had scrawled the information on her business card onto her glove in a pink glittery ink. She smiled; at the same time feeling bad for judging her without knowing her true generosity. Her band could have really benefited from the offer, however she feared it would count as cheating; that was what Theme said about show business after all. She made her way into the bar that was surprisingly empty, sliding into the seat in the booth between Rox and Scar who were playing some sort of rhythm drinking game. Rox was winning.

"Har! Nice of you to show! What are you getting?" Rox laughed, consuming down a blue liquid out of a small glass.

"Aw man! You obviously cheated, you dipshit!" Scar revolted, knocking over her glass accidentally, letting the liquid drip to the floor.

"Guys. You won't believe who I just met outside!" Nyx didn't want to wait past the drunkenness to share the news.

"Jimmy Hendrix's ghost?" Rox laughed, Scar joining in soon. Nyx rolled her eyes.

"No, but something miraculous." They didn't stop laughing. "Listen, will you!" she roared, her fangs flashing, freezing them in shock. Nyx as well, had no clue where that came from.

"Woah...sorry, that was childish of me. Who did you meet outside?" Rox placed her empty glass on the table, giving Nyx the desired attention; Scar did the same only still speechless.

"I…I'll be upstairs." Nyx said, her eyes clouding up. Stay tough, crumbling is pathetic. "S-s-see ya..." she spun around and slalomed through the crowd, throwing herself at the stairs, desperate to hear the handle of the door lock behind her. She was pacing inside the room like a lion in a cage. Quickly, anxiously, hyperventilating, knowing what the overload of feelings would bring to her, knowing that within moments she'd be lying on the floor in a puddle of her own sorry gore, wings sprawled out brokenly, fangs bighting into the wooden floor. There was no escape from that. She sat down on her mattress hugging her knees, trying to focus on anything but transforming, or feeling in her case. It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay. For the first time those words came quickly, aggressively, trying to harm her rather than comfort her; like bullets of a machine gun. They were getting louder, hurting her even more. She felt her back ache, as if two edges of a knife were trying to push out of her skin. It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay. Demanding comfort, and respect.

"Stop! Stop! Make it stop!" Nyx grasped her head, not uncurling from the little, weak ball she created, rolling around on her mattress, screaming, kicking at the pain. The trampling of boots outside the hallway was as audible to her as summer rain dripping from a window. The volume of the ringing of the words got higher and higher. The door slapped the wall loudly, Rox scampered inside, her facial expression looked ready to feed payback to anyone, and feed it painfully. Her expression softened a little, and both her and Scar kneeled down next to Nyx.

"Harlow! Calm down! What happened?!" she was trying to scream over Nyx, but nothing could beat pleas of pain. One wing shot out of her back, blood splattering over Scar's face, she backed up a little just to see the other one spring out.

"I'm not okay!" Nyx screamed, "Leave me be!" her fingernails extending feeling as if someone were pulling them out one by one with hot tongs. She was bighting down her tongue to calm her screaming, but it only made it worse, she sputtered saliva-coated blood onto the mattress, her ears and nose extending and changing shape. With the last stretch, the pain faded. Not drastically, nor spontaneously. She felt able to get up this time. Shaking drastically, she managed to force her organism to stand up. She was panting in a scattered pattern, Scar paler than before apart from the blood stains on her face. Rox looked as if she was trying hard to have the situation under control.

"Look, Nyx…whatever you are, you need to breathe. Take deep breaths, it's gonna be oka-"

"No! Don't you even go there!" Nyx screamed, covering her ears.

"Nyx calm down. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"But I'm sure you think I am!" she replied snappingly.

"No, no we aren't. Nyx you can't over feel things." She knew it wasn't the fact that they didn't listen that caused it. It was the trigger, but not the cause. Nyx was a nervous wreck before going up on stage. Performing gave her adrenalin. Nyx found out that was one of the dangerous feelings. Then the assuring feeling she had felt when she met Theme that had also been rather powerful. After she approached Rox and Scar she was emotionally unstable even though she was in a good mood. She had been on the verge of this all this time and she wasn't aware of it. Just what kind of species caused you so much pain for being normal?!

"It's not that..." she gulped, gasping at the sudden pain as one wing contracted into her and disappearing quickly. "I think…I think it was because of adrenalin, and insecurity!" she cried, the other wing doing the same.

"Wait…so this has happened before?" Rox asked, referring to the messy state she was in.

"Every time…every time I felt a strong pattern of emotions." She grimaced as each nail became normal.

"I've never met anyone more emotionally unstable than myself." Scar said in a small voice.

"Yeah, Scar's right…your symptoms are unlike any form of personality disorder, and this? Now this whole transformation-glowey-eyes thing isn't normal either."

"Thanks for…stating the obvious…Rox…" Nyx grasped her ears as they shrunk and edited their shape.

"No, I'm not stating the obvious, Nyx, I'm putting the pieces together!" Rox protested, "And you, my friend, would be better off seeing a therapist."

"No one else must know about this otherwise they'd place me on the Pedi stool of being one of the largest dangers to society." Nyx said in a low voice. Rox nodded curtly.

"But, isn't telling someone else better? Like, an expert? Aren't you just as curious to find out what you are as me?" Scar inquired.

"I'll have to admit that no matter how much I hate it. Yes, Scar, I really want to find out what I am. But I have a theory to the reason of why I have become what I have become." She began, watching their intrigued expressions, "I think that my current form is due to a curse. I mean, how would remembering nothing before my bat state be explicable if my human form just occurred out of nothing?"

"Wait. Let me get this straight. You think that someone has cursed you to become human?"

"Yes! That's it!" Nyx pointed at Rox enthusiastically, "That's just it! It must be it!" She was smiling, pleased with herself that she had at last found out the reason. Well at least that was one clue down for sure. But then…if that was the case, why has she left Crystal instead of questioning her for the antidote? This made even less sense than her theory itself.

"So…who do you think cursed you?" Scar tilted her head, combing down her messy hair with her fingers but didn't really succeed much.

"Yeah, and can we get revenge upon them?" Rox cracked her knuckles and practiced a couple punches through the air, looking a tad too violent to the inexistent people. Nyx and Scar exchanged strange glances. "What? It's like, animal cruelty, right?" Nyx grinned, wiggling the fingers of her bionic arm.

"I'll have you know, having arms separate to wings is weird." Scar and Rox chuckled, "And these things you guys call fingers! The dexterity of these sticks attached to my hands is simply horrible!" Nyx exclaimed in fake despair, causing more laughter.

"Wow, now, let's be careful with how happy we feel…" Rox stopped abruptly, eyeing Nyx warily, who waved her off.

"It's usually the negative or dangerous emotions!"

"Oh, like the restless heart syndrome?" Scar questioned. Nyx had no idea what that was, yet she still shrugged, nodding in agreement.

"Alright, bedtime suckers." Rox checked the small blue digital clock; not having its specific place, just hanging out on the floor all alone. Nyx swore that there was something even about the architecture and the whole idea of everything being alone, broken, and out of place, adding a mysterious touch to them; she felt a connection with every object, every building, heck, every brick in the wall said something to her. Of course, they weren't building blocks to a clear pathway of self-discovery, but weirdly, Nyx felt just like them.

"Bedtime? Who are you, my mom?" Scar sneered, poking out her tongue.

"No. But we're starting fresh tomorrow. I wanna show Nyx where I go for inspiration." Rox retorted.

"Ooh! Where's that?" Scar wonders enthusiastically. Nyx gave an intrigued look at Rox as well.

"The 'bawogas.'" Rox said with a smirk, that word seemed alien to Nyx; and she figured it most likely was code for some other term or even terms.

"Oh yeah!" Scar seemed to have remembered the special moment when Rox brought her there, "The bowagas! I love that place!" Scar fangirled, "Don't forget your vats then!"

"Not even planning on it. Got new packs and I'm excited to try em' out." She gestured her thumb towards a small, suspicious dark bag leaning against the wall. Nyx felt her pupils contract. She knew there would be a time when she would get drunk, but she vowed never to do drugs. Mind that, she never even expected Rox and Scar to be like that at all! Her gaze shifted back to them suspiciously. Rox shrugged almost innocently.

"What's the problem?" Scar grinned. Betraying them was already crossing the line. Besides, Nyx trusted them with her deepest, darkest secret in the first place. She shrugged, unsure of how to continue the conversation safely. She simply laid down giving the signal that she was tired and indeed was following Rox's order to hit the hay. The voices have not visited her that night. She spent half of it tossing herself about, feeling so cold no blanket could warm. She was forced into sleep by her tiredness that took no more of staying up. Whatever will be will be. It was around 6:00 am when a toxic smell entered the room. She woke up coughing drily at the odor, covering her mouth and nose in her hands.

"What…what the hell?!" she grumbled tiredly, he vision still blurry to the light. A sudden movement was seen and a zipper was heard quickly.
"Sorry, I can be really impatient sometimes." Rox laughed nervously. Scar woke up calmly as if no commotion had ever happened. She nodded at them both, getting up with a long yawn and stretch, holding out her hand to Nyx, to help her up. Nyx took it, dragging herself to her feet.

"To the bowagas!" Nyx pointed 'excitedly' at the door.

"You mean the bawogas." Rox corrected, swinging the strap of the suspicious bag over her shoulder.

"And those are the vats." Scar pointed to the bag in such way it looked as if she was presenting a historical monument of great importance. Nyx nodded slowly. "Hey Rox, how we gonna get there?"

"Simple." Rox smirked, unlocking the door without looking back at them. "We take Harley."

"Hold up, I though Harley didn't cooperate anymore." All of this code-talk was making Nyx more anxious, and by each new term she had to assure herself that everything will be safe and that whatever happens it will be okay.

"Sure she does. I've done some fix-ups when you spent the night at Ryder's." Scar cringed, clearly that being one of the embarrassing sins. They were climbing down so many steps, Nyx felt like it took just one more flight to take them straight into the underworld. A large room that was most likely 95% gray concrete lay silent, their boots drumming on the ground. The same crisp air from outside invaded the place, causing them to rattle in coldness like an earthquake. Lying against one of the thick, gray columns, an electric blue motorcycle was holding its balance with the aid of the wall. Only it would be a sin to have it called a motorcycle. That model was definitely a proper, hardcore road bike. Black designs had been carefully brushed onto the sides, and the many pipes were glistening in silver, despite the lack of pretty much any form of light.

"Harlow meet Harley, Harley meet Harlow." Rox grinned at her handy work. Scar smiled as brightly as Harley's silver pipes.

"Ooh! Nice and artsy!" she exclaimed, running a finger over the smooth designs.

"Now that's more like it!" Nyx smirked, "Makes all the other bikes look weaker than they think they are. Kind of like you, Rox." Rox shrugged as if she couldn't help it, and kicked the stand that was pushing it against the wall and threw her legs over it, seating herself in what seemed like a not very comfortable seat.
"Hop on, Har!" She took off the bag and handed it to Scar. Nyx sat down obediently; one couldn't simply argue with a badass with a blue Mohawk, over ten piercings, and a road bike after all. She had always had the secret desire to ride a motorcycle, and this was far beyond her wish. She hopped on, wrapping her arms around Rox's waist for support; soon Scar did the same to her. Harley began purring, then roaring so well, it sounded as spot on and perfect as Scar's singing. Soon they were off, hair flying carelessly around, enjoying the freedom of speed on an open road. Rox was as good a rider as she was a drummer. She was defiant, quick, agile, and wasn't afraid of going all in on the drifts. The traffic wasn't very promising despite the early hour, and for a long while they have ridden through modern, populated, landscapes; unlike the ones they were used to. The vague excuse for buildings (caused by the speed, of course) were getting smaller, cement blocks smeared in graffiti arose instead. Taking an almost impossible sharp turn down an alley, the sudden break Rox pushed almost threw them off the bike.

"Behold," she said proudly, leaning the bike against the back of the building behind them, "the bawogas." In front of them was a massive wall, almost covered in words. Words used in a form of street art, similar to the designs around Rox's Mohawk, and on Harley. Nyx gaped at the design. Then she remembered this was the safe place they got high in. She rushed over to Scar who was holding the bag, and unzipped it, ready to prove them guilty of carrying drugs, when instead she found ten colorful cans of spray, still in their neat packaging, organized just as neatly according to their colors.

"But…I don't understand! Where are the 'vats' ?" she asked Rox, who shook her head, motioning to the cans.

"Those are the vats." Scar said as if it was obvious.

"Those aren't the vats. They aren't pills!" Nyx exclaimed, frustrated at the confusion around her.

"Oh, Har!" Rox giggled, "it's not that type of place!"

"Yeah! We don't even do high! Drugs are pathetic." Scar joined in. Nyx looked more perplexed than before. Rox rolled her eyes.

"The bawogas," she stood in front of it, "stands for the big-ass wall of graffiti and stuff. I come here once every end of the month to design a word that describes my life so far. I save up my performance money to buy the vats, which you dipshit, aren't drugs. That stands for vital art supplies. I'm used to doing this little 'ritual' thing since I ran away from home. It gives me the feeling of achievement; reading the titles to various chapters in my life, and starting new ones." She explained, her tone softening as she spoke. Some of the words seemed deep, while some seemed light. Outsider. Arrived. Defied. Nyx read some of them. "I brought you guys here because I want you two to try this out! I promise, you'll get addicted. And no, that reference to drugs was not intended, Har." She grinned, pulling out three gas silly-looking gasmasks and handing them one while pulling one on herself. Nyx dragged it around until it popped into place. Breathing through one of those was very audible.

"Can we pick colors, Rox, please?" Scar pleaded, almost slobbering over the fresh new colors. Rox raised one finger, as in telling her to wait and selected a blue to match her motorcycle, pulling of the cap after shaking it. She searched the wall for a clean place then outlined the word `memory', pulling out some sort of paintbrush, she went back and made the outline of the lettering more clear. Her hand glided with grace over the grooves and bumps the worn out bricks on the wall created. Scar took that as a sign to start herself. She pulled out a red-glittery spray and outlined the word 'fame' in a different font; the edges of the letters had arrows pointing in random directions. Nyx was still looking for the perfect place. A meter away from the bawogas was the back of another building, an old, dark blue to green bench was leaning its back against the wall with paint chipping off and bricks visible in places. The bawogas wasn't going to last for one wall forever, she thought, rattling a can of neon green paint. Nyx thought hard on what word to pick to symbolize everything. She could use something like 'monster' or 'betrayal' but she knew there must be something more neutral to her past than the crackling self-hate she had been throwing at herself for the past couple of weeks. 'Unstable' would also not be a good way to put it. She was determined to find out who she was and her unstable emotions would have nothing on bringing her down. The word she hated most came to her mind just then. 'Vampire'. There was no number of people claiming she's one of them that would make Nyx believe that was her true self. Finally, she sprayed carefully the word 'wild' in edgy bubble letters, receiving the feeling that it basically summed everything up; the unstableness, the mystery, the betrayal…everything. Without using the aid of a paintbrush to make the outlines bold like Rox or Scar's, she simply took the can of black to outline the letters. She stepped back to view her work. Thinking about it now, being wild didn't sound like a bad idea to Nyx, as long as she was unwillingly harming someone she loved, of course. Almost like Rox claimed it to be; the feeling of achievement and memory when she read the title of that chapter of her life. She made her way back to view the others' work. Scar had really gone into it. Her simple word of 'fame' and its arrows were all over it, the letters looked like they were covered in vines, however instead of vines there were staffs of music with notes and sol keys hanging loosely from the curves, the arrows piercing through some at times. And Rox's? It was the best word art on the wall. She used other colors, giving it a metallic deflect, filling in her letters with more words, almost as if they were the windows to the story of her past. Nyx wondered if it was the retelling of her backstory that influenced her decision on what word to pick. Rox also had cleverly used the chipping paint to exaggerate the effect of crumpled, rotten paper that was peeling of the walls. Nyx thought of her simple design of her word, almost feeling bad for wasting their time. But then Nyx recalled that making it fancy wasn't a required rule. Maybe that was the reason why Rox only wrote one word; less was more. She congratulated them on their designs, describing hers as well. Scar took out the polaroid camera out of the vats' bag. She snapped a couple of the words, then some of them pulling silly faces at the large lens of the camera. By the time they got back, Nyx forgot what sadness felt like and that negative times existed in life. She forgot she was an unknown species. She forgot she didn't know who she was. She forgot she ran away from the good life in search for the true life. As they were loudly trampling down the hallway, an arm extends out of nowhere, pulling Nyx briskly into the janitor's closet, too powerful for her to protest. She was pinned to the wall, the darkness tacking her down; making it impossible for her eyes to adjust.

"Listen." A rough voice whispered into her neck, and not even in a loving way, "I don't give a crap about what Theme told you, but I overheard she was mentioning the darkest secrets of this underground society." She squeaked, feeling as if the voice was pushing pushpins into her neck. "I don't know who you think you are, but I don't tolerate goodie-two-shoes noobs like you. And neither does anyone here." Another pushpin went in. "If let you go, you will go call the police crying about some drug-addict who assaulted you, aren't you?" his tone got louder, as he shoved her tighter onto the wall. She gulped. "Well you wouldn't do that now would you? And betray your friends and this community to the police? Everyone will hate you more than they do already." He sneered, "All you have to do is get your hands on some goodies for me, and we can forget about all this." His tone got lower. Nyx had no idea why this was happening. "The dudes who won the battle have what I want." He growled, "and I'll do anything to get them back, mark this!" Another pushpin went in. Nyx blinked a few times, her eyes illuminating the room a little. It was Axel, and he was holding a knife; more or less one inch inside Nyx's neck. She wasn't shedding any blood though. She opened her mouth about to scream, but it was soon covered by his thick-skinned hand. It smelled of Tabaco and most likely cannabis. She scrunched her eyebrows and used the benefit of her fangs to bight into his pointer finger as hard as possible. Her fangs sliced through the skin with ease. She shuddered at the taste of his blood, soon her removed his hand, shaking it in pain, but pushing the knife in deeper. "Am I being clear, vampire?" vampire. That's it. She thought, bringing her bionic arm to the knife, pulling it out and twisting her hand so it pointed at him instead. It was the great benefit of being half robot.

"How nice. You're one of those people." Nyx spat at him, her eyes glowing a deeper shade of green. She felt her shoulder blades modify but this time the pain felt reveling. She didn't even wince when blood powdered everything around her. Or when her claws extended, or when her ears and nose modified. She dug her foot into his stomach, still holding his arm in a good grip. He wilted onto the floor, shriveling, looking weak. "You listen here. What Theme said to me is none of your business, d'yhear?" She yanked the knife from his grip, his arm falling to the floor. He was a shocked as her when he dragged her in. "Stay away from me if you don't want trouble." She threatened.

"Well…aren't you one of the feisty ones…" he mumbled, pushing her back with his legs. She hit a shelf, something rattled loudly, and then she felt her whole body collapse in pain. Her eyes must've stopped glowing because she was captured in the claws of darkness again. She awoke with an uncomfortable and a proper piece of material shoved in her mouth and tied securely around the back of her head. After a while she had also noticed her arms were tied in two places around her back, her legs clasped in chains that dug into the floor, to heavy for anyone to not remain static. She tried squirming but that didn't really work. She looked around the dim room anxiously. She sighed in relief to notice it wasn't creature control or the house of correction. Shuddering at the idea, she heard an eerie noise. Suddenly the door popped open, before her stood Axel, his pissed off expression from before hadn't altered. He had a joint in his mouth that he was puffing enthusiastically from. In one hand her held Rox up by her collar, and in the other he held Scar by her hair. Rox had a black eye, and Scar's bottom lip was bleeding. Nyx gasped, or attempted to, her eyes clouding up. She tried to run to them, but she clattered along with her chains onto the floor. After two other thugs came from the back of the room; both as muscular as Axel and equally as tattooed. They tied them up in almost the same way, except without the chains, then thrown carelessly next to Nyx, as if they were two insignificant pieces of dirty laundry. Rox wasn't pleased with the situation, but wasn't inflicting her anger upon Nyx at all, and neither was Scar. One would say they couldn't inflict their anger upon anything as talking was not an efficient way to communicate in this given situation.

"Rocth! Fcaw! Imf fo thorry!" Nyx attempted to speak her apology. But it wasn't really her fault in the first place. Of course, if I delivered the drugs or whatever Axel wanted, I wouldn't be here. If she could move she could kick herself for her negligence of this delicate situation. Their attention slowly shifted to some soft yet muffled whimpers coming from a corner the dim light

"Woth thwere?!" Scar looked rather alarmed, looking to the corner, then at Rox whose eyes showed the greatest of concern, she shrugged, glancing at Nyx, almost telling her to go look. Nyx tried to move but didn't get much father then where she fell on the floor. She did notice a tiny blue light, which softly illuminated a hint of pink headphones. A model of pink headphones Nyx had only seen once before.

"FEME!" she exclaimed loudly.

"H-hurloth?" she stopped whimpering. Rox was dragging her face onto the floor, trying to weaken the grip of the knot and pull it off her face. Scar stared weirdly and so did Nyx until after a while of frustrated grunts, the rag around her mouth fell around her neck.

"Victory!" she said in a low tone, "We must find a way to get rid of the other tie-ups and get the hell out of here." Even if she didn't look like it; Rox was more alarmed than Scar. "Wait! Maybe I can tug at the knots with my teeth!" She sootched up behind Scar and bit at the knot holding her voice captive, until it finally came loose.

"I can speak again!" and yes, it must've been torturous for a singer as great as Scar to be kept away from her voice. Even for such a short amount of time.

"Yeah," Rox gritted her teeth, "time to do the same with your hands." Once again, she tugged, bit and growled at the knot holding Scar's hands captive, similar to a puppy playing with a stuffed animal bigger than it; showing it who's boss. As soon as Scar's hands were free, she untied Rox's hands as well, both of them untying their feet. Scar went to Nyx, untying the fabric away from her mouth. She licked her dry lips, happy not to have anything but her tongue and teeth in her mouth.

"Um…Nyx? We have a problem." Rox said from behind her. Nyx's heart sank. Why did it always have to be like this when she was so close to achieving something? "The way they tied you arms…it's somehow attached to the clasps around your feet. And boy, you'd need a whole lock-and-key set to get yourself out of this one!" Scar nodded in agreement after examining it herself.

"Forget my arms and legs. You see that dark corner over there? There's a girl there. She wants to do ever so much for out band and seems to have gone through quite the trouble with Axel to get it. Please, just…help her out of this!" Nyx pleaded, looking over at the corner where Theme sat all tied up. She was a little worried from not hearing her whimper anymore at least. What if she passed away from the abuse Axel had given her? Or worse, what if he had injected her with some liquid form of a drug or poison. A lot of fiddling was hear in the corner as soon as Rox went there to help out. Soon they carried a petrified Theme, frozen in shock, fear, and pain. The cloth around her mouth had been tied so roughly it left a bulging red mark across her face. She had tears in her eyes but she was smiling. She rushed over to Nyx and hugged her tightly, almost stumbling over.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" she cried into her shoulder, "There is no way I can ever repay you for this." Rox and Scar exchanged intrigued glances.

"So, you're the music producer Har has been telling us about?" Rox smirked approaching her. Theme let Nyx go and wiped her eyes, grinning at Rox.

"Theme Song, at your service!" she cheered. Rox nodded slowly, her expression quite satisfied with the opportunity.

"Very well, and what exactly would you do, to produce our music?" she inquired, crossing her arms. Theme thought for a while. It was one of those questions that explaining was harder than doing.

"Um, you guys? Have we forgotten that we're still stuck in some disgusting basement, and Nyx is still clasped in those dreadful chains to the floor?" Scar jutted her chin at Nyx, who as squirming around, but even the power of her bionic arm couldn't fight the titanium cuffs around them. She sighed helplessly.

"Good job Scar," Rox clapped sarcastically, "How about telling us something like the way to get out or plans about it, hmm?"

"Well I would if you guys weren't talking music production!" she huffed back. Theme looked around carefully, then back at them.

"If you guys don't keep it down, they'll figure we got out of our captivity and are about to escape." Theme said in a low voice. They both nodded breaking out of their little session of bickering.

"Then how do we get out of here?" Rox asked Theme. She smiled slyly,

"Well my darlings, you must know one thing when dealing with pathetic drug dealers such as they; you must know what they are after, what they wish to continue plotting, where they keep their money and dope, and who they wish to keep away from them," she explained wisely, "and since I've worked with these types of people so much in the business industry I know exactly what cards to play."

"Oh really? Then why were you whimpering like mad over in that corner before we let you out?" Scar didn't look too fooled.

"Part of the plan," she winks, "They aren't gonna keep me captive for ever. You must know that all their feelings would be exaggerated. When they look like they hold grudges in reality they don't. Well of course, if you get on they good side that is. That is the safest way around them at least."

"Oh so you're saying, if we sleep with them or whatnot they'll let us out?" Rox didn't look too pleased with the idea. Theme laughs,

"Of course not! Why does everyone think that's the only way to charm someone?" Rox, Nyx, and Scar all raised an eyebrow at her. "Why are you all looking at me like that? It's true! Especially in these certain situations. You gotta use what you got."

Rox sighed,

"Alright. But just this once and you'll keep it between us."

"Someone wants to keep their tough image.." Nyx mumbled under her breath, just audible enough for Rox to give her a sought-after glare. Nyx smirked.

"So what's the plan then?" Scar asked.

"I'll tell you what the plan is…" an echo voice came from the shade the door created. It wasn't Axel's voice, or any of his 'henchmen' however. "You all do what I want…and I'll be just daring." The empathize the voice put on daring sparked, almost as if it was a fire for half a second in that corner. The vague light didn't create any form of glow and the persona was still hidden in the shadows.

"Show yourself, shady coward!" Rox growled like an empty stomach; after all she had been anticipating a weakling willing to challenge her as much as a hungered one anticipates a meal.

"Well done, Roxanne, very, very threatening. Really, I'm impressed." The voice laughed sarcastically walking out of the shadow slowly. A knee-high dark boot with a buckle, followed by another step covered in a navy cloak. Tips of the messy yet neat blood-orange hair came into light, followed by the large visor of a matching hat, covering every part of the face except for a smirking pair of full red lips. Her high heels tapped the floor gently as she strides across the room. "Let's see what we've got here. "Ooh! Pigtails! Good to see you again." She extended her arm, lifting Nyx's chin up, her long, red and perfectly maintained nails digging into her chin. She turned briskly to Scar, her cloak fluttering about as she did. "Scarlett Madeline!" She pretended to kiss both of her cheeks in joy of re-meeting with her as if she was a long lost friend. Scarlet frowned. If she had Rox's toughness she would smack some sense into her this very second. Next she grabbed Theme by the ends of her long pigtails, pulling her closer. "Well, looks like I've found a piece of eye-candy!" she giggled. Theme flushed. She hated when she was being called that as much as Nyx hated to be called a vampire. "Too bad I walked in the room, right?" she smirked, letting Theme go with a push. She stumbles back into Rox who puts her back to her feet rapidly. "Well girls, I'm sorry to say," she began pacing around the room slowly, "I don't have any good news concerning your stay…" She stopped, grinning maliciously from ear to ear, "and it could even count as good news if you are enjoying your stay, which I really hope you are, you see, your comfort is my absolute top concern…" she gushes, oozing sarcasm. She didn't even feel the weight of all the glares she was being passed from around the room; just shrugging it off as if she ate punks like them for breakfast. With her eyes closed. "This silence is really loud…" she laughed, "Back into your places, okay?" she lifted two fingers, swishing them around, tying everyone back up, except for the mouth piece. Ashton really loved to hear their pleas of help and disappointment. Like one of those horrible shape-changing creatures that fed off of the love of others, Ashton lived from corrupting wishes and others' dreams. "It was nice to stay and chat gals, but I really should get going. I have business to attend to." She swished her cloak and disappeared into thin air. Almost like magic. But Ashton's magic felt odd; even her simple spells like levitation or whatnot felt different then what Nyx was used to back at the castle with Crystal. And this had nothing to do with the type of magic being used (since Crystal was a mechanic), however whatever it was, it felt as if every good deed had a sharp, bad second meaning to it. The fact that Ashton didn't even use magic as often and still was a powerful manipulator drove Nyx insane. She had only just met Ashton and she had three different opinions on her. Without judging, one could plaster a sign across her face with big bold letters reading 'trouble' and still be correct. But with people like Ashton even Nyx, who fought against the judgmental psychopaths outside the safety of the hotel, had no vivid image of who she might be. Of what she might be. The mystery she left behind almost made Nyx pity her, hence her very own experience with one's truthful identity. The atmosphere in the room went from outraged to miserable. What if planning a way out as in fact a useless idea and in reality there was no way out? No. There had to be. Nyx had been through worse and there has always been a way out. It's gonna be okay…she shook her head rapidly, the chains rattling.

"You alright, Har?" Scar asked, "I hope you aren't feeling anything dangerous now…" Nyx's eyes widened, she looked at Scar who looked back even more frightened than before.

"Do you think that…-" Nyx started

"If you go all hulk-vampire on Ashton…" Scar continued

"Not only would the chains rip apart…" Rox added

"But she'd let us out in fear! Wait, so Har is like, half Hulk half vampire?" Theme laughed in disbelief glancing at a red-faced Nyx. She wasn't blushing. Oh no. She was gritting her teeth, trying to choke it down. Every time the V-word was muttered.

"Of course she's half Hulk half vampire…" Scar shook her head and laughed. She looked at Rox who sighed.

"She's more of a vampire if you ask me…" Rox said, matter-of-factly.

"Stop. It." Nyx gritted her teeth, her eyes already responding to the conversation with a soft glow, "it hurts to morph, it really does…" she said in a pleading, hurt way. But they didn't stop. Every second word they said had to be vampire. It kept building up quite quickly. Nyx was already feeling her back sore, with the familiar stab on either side of her shoulder blades. The memory of what happened in the closet with Axel was playing behind her eyes in a blur. She tried to bight her way past the pained expression on his face, past the threating way she was holding the knife, past the accepting way she welcomed the pain. Past the immature way she let herself loose control. Again. And when everything was going just great; she had met to people who seemed to feel even closer to Nyx than Crystal, and maybe it was their life stories, and the fact that they didn't judge, but Nyx would do anything to still be connected with them somehow. This was her home. She was destined to be performing on stage. But how could she even live the life fate had paved in for her if she couldn't control this damn power? Could she hold those emotions back? They were labeled dangerous for a reason. It would be inhumane for one not to feel enraged, nervous, or thrilled. Not to mention ignore those emotions. Why happiness was easier to forget still remained a myth, as well as why what Nyx felt; and why it was negative. She gave up, groaning loudly, letting the wings price through the soft skin of her back yet again; this time Rox and Scar took coverage from the dripping gore. Nyx breathed heavily, letting her fingernails extend, letting the muscles on her arms expand and plus with purple veins and arteries, tearing the titanium cuffs as if it were tissue paper. She let her ears and nose extend with screams coated in heavy agony and anything but pleasure. She twisted about, until she fell to her knees, grasping her head and rocking back and forth. It had never been this painful before. Rox looked pleased with her reaction, and though Scar winced a little, she was still happy they could find a way out. Theme was the shocked one from the trio. She almost felt her guts crawl their way up her throat as she watched the pain they had just caused to shoot out of Nyx. She kept her mouth shut, despite her wondering if Nyx was going to be alright. It was a logical question, she had been after all, sulking in that puddle of red for a while, breathing heavily, trying to get her powers together even though they were just as sprawled out as herself. It took approximately one hour and a half for her claws to start retracting and become normal. Soon her wings returned back into normal shoulder blades, she received a normal nose, normal ears, a normal shape. If she was so normal now, Nyx thought, why do people look at her strangly all the time? It wasn't as if she remained in her transformed state all the time. She sighed, getting up as if nothing happened, trying to soak the blood out of her hair and shirt.

"Alrighty guys, out of them chains." She looked at them for further orders.

"See Nyx? Even your powers can be used for good. You got nothing to worry about. You're a goodie." Scar beamed. Why hadn't Nyx seen it earlier? Then again maybe she had seen it but perhaps not believed or felt it. Although Scar was most of the time silly, there was something about her quotes that appeared rather philosophical. Her realizations were huge, and they had always benefited from them. Nyx smiled a toothy smile, her fangs poking out still.

"Wait, your eyes aren't glowing and you're still in human form…doesn't that mean your fangs turn back to normal canines too?" Rox asked pointing at her mouth. Nyx poked the tip of either one of her fangs with her tongue in surprise. But she shrugged that one off. She didn't care what her species offered her in the future, as long as she finally found the answer to what role she played in morality. Another clue down. Disappointment level: none. You had to accept who you are eventually after all.

"Did she just…oh my…b…blood…" Theme was still rather frozen in shock. Nyx smiled, trying not to freak her out too much.

"Don't worry about it Theme, it happens all the time I feel a 'dangerous' emotion. It's painful but only for a short time. That long amount of time I spent on the floor wasn't because of the pain; it was me trying to un-feel everything so I can turn back to normal. It anyways doesn't last long, whether I would've tried to or not." She explained, walking over to her, "I'm not dangerous, as Scar confirmed." The last statement she had said with confidence other than fear in herself. Theme nodded meekly, as Nyx was taking apart the heavy knots the works of Ashton's magic created. She had done good with keeping them captive, Nyx had to admit. She remembered the pinkie finger on her bionic arm could eject a small razor. She flicked open the top of the finger, the small little rod with the sharp, spinny razor popped out buzzing enthusiastically. "Hold still…" Nyx instructed and sliced through the tightly knotted fabric with the razor, it working a charm.

"Wait, so you have a freaking razor that can cut through whatever material this tie-up is made of, and you never even used it to get out of the titanium cuffs?!" Rox seemed outraged, as if she'd jump right in her face if her legs and arms weren't tied. Nyx chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Who knows, Rox! She might even have laser beams in that hand! I'll tell you, hanging out with Har is getting more different by the hour!" Scar exclaimed. Rox still glared at Nyx.

"It doesn't cut through every type of metal or material, Rox." Nyx explained, "Crystal added that feature to help her cut blueprint paper or make marks on the metal she needs to forge and whatnot; definitely not to cut through anything." Rox still didn't look pleased.

"So your so called owner gives you a built-in razor, but it can't even cut?!"

"Rox, you heard her, it was only for assisting. A real one was probably unnecessary." Scar explained.

"Owner? What owner?" Theme asked curiously.

"I used to be a bat." Nyx said simply, then burst out laughing in disbelief, "It's a true story though!"

"She was the royal pet bat." Scar added, "she was princess Crystal's pet!"

"Wait…princess Crystal Rune as in princess Diamond's younger sister?" Theme asked, a smile spreading across her face. Nyx nodded. "The world is so small. I am Diamond's best friend! Wait…then you must be…Nyx?" the way she said made Nyx wince. She hadn't heard that name being said with such care, mind that, or have her being called 'Nyx' at all. A quick flashback of Crystal blinked in her mind. It's gonna be okay…

"Y-yes…" she squeaked.

"Har, Nyx, whatever. Would you please come and help us out too?" Rox asked, snapping Nyx out of her emotional moment of memory. Nyx shook her head rapidly before she approached her, but as usual, the feeling hadn't left her. As if what Crystal did was an emotional tattoo upon Nyx. She soon freed Rox and Scar, so they were sitting cross-legged in a circle, almost as if summoning some sort of spirits, only they were summoning an escape plan.

"So Theme, you've been down here before?" Scar inquired. Theme nodded.

"Crap…why does this room have no windows?" Rox looked around the room.

"It's a basement, silly." Nyx responded, poking her tongue out at Rox, who soon poked her tongue back at Nyx, displaying the tiny silver ring, stabbed inside it.

"What about…that air vent?" Theme suggested looking at a slightly larger grate on the wall. They all looked at each other.

"Maybe…Nyx what else can your hand do?" Scar asked, grabbing her bionic arm and examining it.

"Well it has a wrench and a screwdriver too. I was thinking perhaps I can weaken the screws and pull the grate down." She gets up and looks at the grate closer. Then she drags a couple buckets to climb on and get to work. She fiddled with one screw, squirming and twisting her finger about, but the end of the screwdriver did not fit the model of the screw. She looked back at them apologetically. Rox then got up, and pulled Nyx down, stepping up herself. At first, it looked as if she was going to examine the screws as well, but she pulls her right fist back and smashes the grate in as it rams forward. She tugged the fallen grate out of the air vent and threw it on the floor, blowing onto her fist as if it was some well-used weapon. Nyx and Theme's jaw dropped.

"What, wasn't it kind of obvious Rox would be a strong one? I mean come on; she's a drummer for goodness sakes!" Scar laughs, giving Rox a high five. Nyx had never underestimated Rox's strength, and she knew she had violence within her, but she never really adhered it to any situation they needed it in.

"Well that seemed to work." Theme smirked, climbing on top of the boxes and into the vent, "Coming, guys?" She called back. She crawled her way forward, her knees and arms slapping the metal of the vent loudly. Scar followed soon, forcing herself through the air vent. It wasn't as if they didn't fit at the limit, but it was a very tight space. The air became limited, not to mention the fact that the had to crawl their way through the thin sheets of metal without causing too much noise. Theme stopped.

"Har! Keep going!" Rox hissed.

"I can't! We stopped!" Nyx whispered back, then tapped Rox on the back, "Why did you stop?" Scar shook her head and asked Theme.

"There's a split passageway." Theme said loud enough for all to hear. Rox also cursed loud enough for all to hear, banging her fist against the vent. "Wait here. I will go down one of them, and I'll call you if it's an escape plan." With that, Theme was disappearing into the darker air vent passage way. A loud shriek was heard, then quick trampling back the air vent. Theme was coming back quicker than she went in, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

"Definitely… definitely not that way." She whimpered, taking the other way slower.

"Did you hit a propeller?" Scar asked, but Theme had only answered with a sniff and more whimpering. They have been walking for what seemed like then miles. However long it was, it has been more than enough time one would like to spend in a dark and occasionally wet air vent. The vent eventually dipped down into a slide, which was more like a reward to their treacherous adventure through metal tubes. They slid out, until Theme's fluffy leg-warmer-covered feet hit the grate leading to the underground garage with a grunt.

"See? That's why you had to let me go in first." Rox bragged, "Now what are we gonna do?" Nyx felt the walls of the air vent, hitting on it a couple times. She fiddled with her robotic arm for a while, finally tugging it off. She handed it to Theme, over Scar's head. Theme looked as if she was about to faint at the sight of her hand.

"The razor might be able to slice through the vent if we insist on it long enough. Theme, you gotta do this. It'll start automatically, just pull off the top from the pinkie finger." Nyx explained. Theme nodded, taking it with shaky arms. The lines of light that entered through the grate's holes gave glimpses of Theme's bleeding nose. She turned back, and the sharp buzz of the razor was heard, louder in the audacity of the vent. The grate fell in front of them and they each crawled out onto the cold concrete of the fluorescent garage one by one. Once out of earshot from the air vent, they all cheered, the feeling of victory returning. Nyx ruffled Rox's Mohawk playfully.

"Well aren't you the blade?" she laughs, Rox grins.

"Well aren't you the robot?" She replied. Nyx rolled her eyes,

"I honestly prefer over being a vampire!" she smirked. Scar and Theme laughed.

"You know, I finally get what you mean. You aren't a vampire!" Scar announced, "Quite different for one I must say."

"This innocent thing? A vampire? I've known her since she was a baby, she hadn't even shown interest to anything meat." Theme protested. Nyx flushed, it was true. She remembered how Crystal thought she was a vampire bat and due to her assumption, Nyx was forced to eat hamburger meat every night. Such a torturous time for Nyx…and how much she had gotten scolded at for not finishing her meal. She laughed about it now, however, and so did Crystal. She sighed. If Nyx could only see her again, at least for five minutes to apologize, but she swallowed this feeling, forcing it deep inside through layers and layers of shame and guilt. Scar finally took in the deep gash around Theme's nose.

"Actually, girl, what in the world happen to you? Do you really think a simple propeller can scar that bad Rox?" she asked concernedly, reaching a hand forward to adjust Themes head to get a better look. Theme backed away, not wanting anyone to touch it. Rox shrugged.

"It wasn't a propeller. I tried to tell you guys, but I really couldn't possibly explain it to myself. I was wondering the tunnel until I feel a great pain on my nose; almost as if someone had put up an invisible and non-glowing fire wall right in the middle of the tunnel and I went it head first." She explained. They noticed that though her nose seemed severely scared, other parts of her face looked indeed, as if she had placed her face into a fire.

"Could you not feel the heat as you approached it?" Nyx tapped her chin in thought, Theme shook her head.

"Only when I came in contact with it. But it went away as soon as I crawled back from it." They shrugged, as they started walking back up to the reception hall of the Darrington Inn, since Theme couldn't stay much longer. Rox and Scar bid their farewells to Theme and retreated back to their suite, leaving Nyx to guide her out.

"I really appreciate it that you guys went through all this, and despite it not necessarily being for my benefit; saved my life in the end." Theme smiled, "Pity your band doesn't want a contract with MyMusic Teenz…" she looked down.

"If it makes you feel any better, I must say Rox looked pretty interested. I'd go for the fact that since we aren't a band formed for a long amount of time, we aren't ready for such big opportunities, notwithstanding your overly generous offer." Nyx said.

"Oh? Well then I guess that makes more sense!" Theme laughed, "I should've thought of that before." Suddenly her pupils dilate in sudden discovery of ideas, "But you, Nyx!" she gasped, "But you are an experienced guitarist and are doing very well at it! Might I add you can play every form of guitar and still sound double as amazing?" She exclaimed. Nyx flushed.

"Well, if you say so…"

"I mean it! We need people like you at MyMusic Teenz. And it breaks my heart you cannot work for us. Don't worry; I understand you have other commitments. That is why I was thinking of a different kind of job for you. That won't tare you apart from the band, that is." Theme said in a low yet excited tone. Nyx looked intrigued. She nodded slowly, signaling for Theme to keep going. "Namely, a contract. How would you feel if you earned a more than decent amount of money for every performance you make? Winners or not, the audience needs your entertainment to really feel it. Of course, in the wavier it will state that you are in cooperation with the MyMusic Teenz production company and we will get partial credit for your success. But only in a minor way, so that's nothing to worry about." Theme looked into Nyx's green eyes persuasively. She didn't even have to use much of her charm to make her accept the deal. Theme was the type of person that once you get to know, (and you don't even have to know for a long time) you know for sure that they are trustworthy and not one sign of future backstabbing present in their generous ways. No wonder Theme was such a successful businesswoman at only 16. Nyx heard rumors that she even quit high school to make it big in the musical industry biz.

"I accept!" Nyx grinned. Theme reached down her shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Nyx. She took it this time, still a little disgusted about how many things she can even keep there. Next Theme pulled out a small pen from her hair, and turned her back to Nyx, squatting a little so she could use her as a table while she signed the document. Nyx scrawled the name of 'Harlow Blade' on the dotted line with the messy ink of the gel pen and held it out to Theme who snatched it, reading through it in a satisfied way.

"Great! You got yourself a good ol' sweet deal then!" She winked, "Well then, I should really get going. I'll come to every night's concert, and you are to meet me in the alley to the right side of the hotel to receive the cash. Got it?" Nyx nodded curtly and waved, watching Theme disappear inside a pink, sparkly cab. Nyx was still left mesmerized by Theme's close to perfectness when clearly she had so many quirks and flaws.

"I still wonder what could have hurt her in that air vent…" she mumbled to herself, looking at the vague landscape in front of her.

"It's not a what, darling, it's a who…" a familiar voice slurred behind her. Nyx didn't even need to turn around to know who it is, due to the sudden warmth she brought. "Look Harlow, I really think we got off on the wrong foot and you do deserve my deepest, most sincere apologies even though I think it would be a little too late for that now." Ashton said in a weak voice. Nyx raised an eyebrow. It was very unlike Ashton to act like this. "It was very foolish of me, and I did it because…" she drifted off.

"Well?" Nyx asked impatiently, as Ashton was blocking her way back in.

"I did it because I was jealous." She looked away, putting a hand over her forehead dramatically and gasping, "I wanted to be the only one who tried to help you along the way…and when you met Theme, Rox and Scar…I got jealous!" Ashton sounded pretty ticked off. With herself. Nyx watched in amusement, still not fooled.

"What? You think I haven't been much help? Harlow, I know who you are." Nyx's amused expression blanked, she stared at Ashton. "The minute I saw you, I wanted to make sure it was you; I couldn't believe my eyes! When I showed you the mirror, it wasn't because I wanted to scare you, I wanted you to see your species…and when you ran away, I felt so bad I just had to follow you to explain everything. That nest of phoenixes you slept under? That was me! I have the ability to morph into one. I went berry picking the next day to feed you well because you seemed to have a huge journey planned. I was about to keep helping you but you…you have betrayed me!" she screeches, pointing an accusing finger at Nyx who backed away slightly.

"I didn't know you were trying to he-"

"I was furious, Harlow, that was why I didn't help you escape from the basement." She looked rather hurt, which was stirring up more guilt inside Nyx's stomach. But Ashton smirked, as if none of that ever happened, and hugged her half-heartedly.

"But, let's say I don't hold grudges over silly things as such. As I said, I know exactly who you are. And I can start off by saying who you think you are now…isn't at all relevant. Or accurate." Nyx's jaw almost dropped.

"Then who am I? What am I?" she asked desperately, prodding Ashton with millions of questions with answers yet to come.

"Patience." She held up a delicately gloved hand, "for every hint, you'll have to pay, or all my facts will go astray. You shall give me half your worth, and this quest will be of easy mirth. If one time you will betray, I'm the lion and you're the pray, the mystery your life will be, will grow deeper; wait and see! I am here to guide you through, three's a crowd and we're just two; follow this rhyme for it's no crime; I will wait tonight at nine. In a recollection place where you have described your race; it is up to you to find, don't be late for it's unkind." She faded into a cloud of smoke snickering. Nyx couldn't even remember half the rhyme but, boy, was she interested in what Ashton had to say! Of course, she must keep this hidden from Scar and Rox, and lock up what she knew of Ashton's riddle in her brain. She tried reciting it again, though it was no use. She did remember she had to meet her in a place for recollection where she had described her race. Once clue down…sighed Nyx. Throwing her hands in her pockets, she made her way back up to the suite where Rox and Scar were impatiently waiting.

"What took you so long, Blade?" Rox was sipping from a black can titled in neon letters 'Energy'.

"She called a cab, and it took a while for it to get here. I felt awkward just to leave her alone…" Nyx said quickly.

"Makes sense. This place is quite hidden." Rox pushed the ends of the can together, and it folds together in her grip. She tosses it like a Frisbee across the room.

"You guys, we have a performance tonight…" Scar remembered. They had to act extremely punk about it too. A fall such as the band battle should not stand in their way to the success.

"What song are we performing tonight?" Nyx sat on her mattress next to Rox.

"Well, it can't be Green Day again. That brought us down, remember?" Rox replied.

"Actually Theme told me the winners were chosen by Axel because they shared a joint with him. We were the original winners." Nyx said in a low voice, shooting a glance out the window.

"I think Nyx should pick the song for tonight." Scar beamed at Nyx, who contracted slightly at the idea, "You sing the back up vocals."

"But…I can't sing, Scar." She protested. Rox raised an eyebrow.

"But you sing all the time, shybutt." Rox teased, "You aren't too shabby, I must admit." Nyx flushed.

"Well there is one song I have been practicing privately." They both stared at her keenly; Nyx had no way out of this one. She picked up her guitar and strummed a couple times. An electric guitar is softer than an acoustic without an amplifier, so her sound was limited. "I'm not a vampire, but I feel like one," she smirked in melody; Rox and Scar stifling a giggle, "Sometimes I sleep all day because I hate the sun…"

"My hands are always shaking, body's always aching and it's dark out when I feed!" Scar continued, making Nyx stop.

"You know the lyrics to it too?" Scar nodded excitedly.

"Well good! We got that out of the way, I don't think I'll have trouble with the rhythm on this one." Rox cracked her knuckles; "Let's go knock them dead!" Their performance went better than before, though it wasn't a band battle the crowd had gone so wild they were throwing banknotes and coins at them in revolt. Of course, a positive revolt. They had to end the song by remixing and playing it again. What killed the feeling for Nyx was remembering both her deals she had made. She had told Rox and Scar that she needed a breath of fresh air after the rush of adrenalin and that she would be out for a while recollecting herself, soon rushing to the alley, glancing at the clock every now and then. Theme bounced into sight shortly, wearing more a twisted raver outfit that night. Her pink locks glittered in the faint moonlight that managed to pierce through the shaggy pieces of the small roof that stretched over the alley.

"You guys did great out there! I swear, every time I see you guys perform I feel even worse that I can't record your tracks." She laughed, "Look, I won't keep you waiting!" She handed her en envelope, and as Nyx peaked inside; held together neatly by a red rubber band were $50,000.

"A decent amount of money!" She recalled Theme explaining the deal to her. Nyx stood frozen staring inside that envelope for what felt like forever. Theme giggled and patted her back

"Keep it up and you can earn more!" And with that she was out of the alley, with Nyx slowly at her heels a couple meters behind her, Theme drove off into the night on a pink scooter. All she had to was get to Ashton somehow. But she had no idea where the place of recollection she had been talking about lied. She tried not to make it worse by remembering she couldn't make up her mind in deciding what words were valid and said by Ashton's riddle. Nyx had never described her race…she hadn't a clue about what to describe in the first place! The only place of recollection she could even call that would be the meadow of the Everfree Forest. But why would Ashton meet her there? She couldn't even get there...on the alley was a Suzuki motor cycle, across the sides vintage-yet-neon designs of Nyx's graffiti design down by the bawogas were splattered across the sides. She approached it curiously, and noticed a green sticky note attached to the one of the handle bars.

'A little gift from me to you, a little surprise to look up to; use it to make your way, or my hints will go astray. Place of recollection, race described to perfection, I will wait out on the bench despite this awful, unknown stench. Hurry up and don't be late; for the clock had just struck eight!' –Ashton. Nyx couldn't even gasp. She reread the message a couple of times, tracing the crisp leather seat with her robotic arm. Well that had only summarized it to one place; which smelled and had a bench; where Nyx described herself as 'wild'; where Rox went every month to recollect her feelings. There was only one choice. The bawogas. Without hesitation, a license, or ay experience in riding, Nyx brought her heart to her teeth and sat on the motor cycle, making it's brand new engine purr excitedly. She zoomed down the streets, dodging the radars and any form of light. She promised to herself she would remember the way to the bawogas in case she needed to go back, since it seemed like a safe spot. She arrived soon. The only thing that had illuminated the alley was nothing other than her graffiti, which was glow in the dark. Ashton was sitting patiently; a leg over the other, looking left and right for any sign of Nyx. She got up once Nyx's silhouette became processed in her mind and approved.

"It's 21:01." She said coldly, holding out her hand, "You were late and I don't have one reason you help you." She spat, "but since I'm a very diplomatic person, I will still help you for all the money you have earned." Nyx hesitated, but Ashton's impatience was contagious so she places the envelope in her hand, her dark-gloved fingers closing on it rather satisfied, like a Venus fly trap contracting around a fly.

"So um, do I ask que-"

"No, no, no! You don't ask questions, I give out the answers." Ashton motioned for Nyx to sit, but when she made her way to sit next to her Ashton ushered her to the floor. Nyx looked up at Ashton eagerly. "So, do you really think that you're a hard-core…erm, whatever you are? Because you aren't." Nyx froze, anticipating her following words. That for a fact had been alien to Nyx; she loved performing and music ever since! But she wouldn't dare contradict Ashton. "Well, darling, where to begin! You are, or were a young, studious, Harvard student in the name of…Winifred cooper. That was who you were."

"What happened then? Why is it who I was?"

"Well, the explanation of you being a bat is rather simple. You were a very smart student, in the tops to be exact; and the others? Oh how they envied you greatly! You were getting so fed up with the bullying, you were on the search for a clever, and painless way to erm…commit suicide! You were out of one ingredient for the poison, but being so clever, you knew a good alternative for it and used it instead. Yet it wasn't a good alternative and you ended up creating and animal curse as well as memory loss potion which you then drank in gulps." Ashton seemed really deep into the story.

"Wait, so I was a Harvard student when I was five years of age?" Nyx wrinkled her nose.

"No, the animal morph potion happened to start that one's life over as a baby animal."

"Then why was I a bat?" She asked quickly, while she could at least.

"Bats was the only animal you could think of! The bat is your soul animal!" Ashton said mystically. Nyx stared in awe.

"But…"

"Yes?" Ashton seemed to be getting impatient.

"How come I cannot remember any of this, and remember my bat life?" Ashton rolls her eyes.

"Look, the memory spell only holds for one year; you forget everything that has happened and that happens to you in that particular year. Thus, you started remembering everything after one year as a ba-"

"Anything I should know about that Timber wolf?"

"No, that part isn't significant. The poison of the memory spell might have flown away in the blood you have shed that day." She explained.

"But what about th-"

"That was more than enough information for the price you have given me. Want to know more, like family and other details? You gotta bring the cash same place same time tomorrow. Also, if you dare muster a word of what is being spoken here to one of those pesky so-called friends of yours, and you can forget the deal, my help, and I of course. You will be struck with a memory spell if that happens and trust me, I do know everything, and I'll always be watching you from afar…be cautious of your options…" She disappeared through the thick, dark air. Nyx ran a hand through her wild hair, letting it get tangled up in strands of green as she tried to process that overload of truth. She knew she wasn't who she thought it was…and now she found out and yet more information was yet to come her way. All those thoughts; negative and positive had been clashing aggressively inside her head, and she curled up into a ball as she tried to understand everything; not keeping track of being fatigue and unnoticeably drifting off into slumber, facing her artwork. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep until it was too late.

"There you are!" Scar's voice sighed in frustration but in happiness too. Nyx's head had sprung up; as if a cat who was always alert. Her face flushed, and she had no excuse for this. She froze.

"Where were you last night? I almost pulled up an all-nighter waiting for you." Rox wasn't too pleased either.

"She made me wake up in the middle of the night and we looked for you everywhere! We thought Axel had done something he would soon regret!" Scar sat next to her and hugged her tightly.

"You must've taken a surely long 'walk' have you now." Rox took a glance behind her at her motorcycle, now neatly next to Rox's familiar blue one. "Where have you gotten this baby?" Nyx opened her mouth to speak but only let out a foggy breath into the atmosphere.

"We found a note; eerily tacked to the street. 'A little gift from me to you, a little surprise to look up to; use it to make your way, or my hints will go astray. Place of recollection, race described to perfection, I will wait out on the bench despite this awful, unknown stench. Hurry up and don't be late; for the clock had just struck eight!' from Ashton." Scar quoted just as Rox crossed her arms and raised a heavily pierced eyebrow at Nyx.

"Look; I know you probably have a different opinion about her, but really she was only trying to help!" Nyx cried. Rox shook her head.

"What the hell did she even tell you?"

"I'm Winifred Cooper, former top scholar of Harvard University. Due to the bullying I have mixed up a poison but messed up the ingredients erasing my memory turning me into a bat." Nyx spoke quickly, rocking back and fourth.

"I can shoot that topic fake in just one sentence: morph spells don't have side effects." Rox spat, "She's such a goddammn snake!" She didn't seem to be outraged by Nyx; but rather her gullibility. Nyx tilted her head.

"Har, Ashton had struck both of us; and we know every lie and every slither by heart. Instead of focusing on the fact she knows who you are why don't you try to figure out who she is!"

"Rox, how would she even know? It took us a hella long time to find out; and we were two people working on the same case!" Scar said in a faraway voice.

"How did you guys come to know her? She said she was only jealous and was trying to help; I swear!" Nyx protested. She had no clue of why she was placing so much trust into Ashton as their conversation progressed, but she almost couldn't stop herself from defending her. Something had seemed off when she had been offered that deal…it wasn't the same reliability she felt with Theme; but worse, a sick, sick method of getting to her soul for Ashton's personal reasons. Rox looked around almost anxiously.

"We can't discuss this here. Ashton is everywhere and Ashton knows everything." She whispered, motioning to the bikes. Nyx nodded curtly. She felt guilty for keeping that bike. It made her feel like her trust could be bought with things as such, and it not being valued greatly and often broken.

"Ride with us. It's probably a booby trap for who-knows-what." Scar patted the end of the seat. Nyx got on; a sulking feeling hitting the back of her head and spreading around her veins like a chain reaction. Once they had gotten into the securely locked, sound protected, and barricaded safety of their small suite; Nyx was eagerly waiting for the truth. About Ashton, unfortunately, but it still counted as truth.

"When I first arrived here," Scar began, "I met Ashton as well. She told me some poor riddle about a great singer such as I need practice and a singing tutor. And so she claimed to be one; as well as give me a potion that will make my singing excel. This was one tasty offer. It was my biggest wish, dream, and fate that I would make a great melodic mark in musical history. And it had gone by great, until she had forced me to perform a song that she had written. I practiced it in front of Rox and she adopted this violent personality; her eyes turned white; then red, and she told me she couldn't remember anything from when I started singing. I tried explaining her she sat there like a brainless idiot; open mouthed, drooling and moaning all alien, but she wouldn't even admit it; she had no control over her own actions!" Scar spoke in a soft voice; despite all the barriers.

"Since I got curious, Scar had taught me the song and I sang it to her. Soon enough she had matched the way she had described me a couple minutes ago. That's when I recognized it as siren magic." Rox continued.
"There are rumors of three sirens who have been banished here, but I knew Ashton wasn't one of them. No plot twist here; she really wasn't. But there had been something in that potion that had turned me into a siren so powerful; if I would have faced the three banished sirens in a sing-off I would have manipulated the crowd as soon as my first note was sung. This was very suspicious, as no one could get their hands on the strategies and the procedures of siren magic unless, obviously, they were one themselves. Not Ashton."

"Scar had refused to sing that melody and had not sung for a while until the spell had wore off. In the mean time we have done some intense spying, studying and tracking to decipher the unknown specimen of Ashton."

"Well long story short, it hadn't even been complex to do so! We have discovered she was one of the most-wanted criminals for using dark magic. She had so many forms and identities; it almost felt as if all the culprits of dark magic were in fact Ashton!"

"It felt kind of obvious it was dark magic, once we finally found out who she is. We tried to set her up but it only ended up with us getting into trouble. With the court."

"Of course, it was her who set us up. Ever since then she hand been on our track; ready to turn any person we seem to get along with against us and use them for one of her tricks, whether it's their money to buy ingredients for a new spell or if it's doing the spell altogether." Scar finished, "There had been nothing we could do to stop her, but warning you." Nyx nodded, wondering if now came the time to spill the beans about the deal she had made with Theme. She didn't mention something about it being a secret as the hands have been shaken.

"I really haven't seen that coming about Ashton. Especially after she teared up and told me the truth behind her plan, and how she was jealous! It shudders me to think about her as just a great actress." Nyx said softly.

"And a snake. And a witch." Rox crunched her fist in her palm, "if one day I'll find her good and weak, I will paint her blue and black, just you wait."

"You always, say that Rox, but you always end up the other way." Scar rolled her eyes, chuckling slightly, "You really should give up one day." Weighing the consequences heavy in her mind, the experience with Ashton had really made Nyx think; now that it was a lie perhaps she was right about one thing; this isn't who she was. She would have been wasting her time greatly if she continued not searching. This had a great significance to Nyx, and was the only thing she wouldn't mind to be called self-centered about. She had to go back out there and stop living her life as a complete joke. She had to tell them everything then kindly ask for permission to leave.

"I can't do this anymore." Nyx blurted out, earning their attention promptly. "I have to go back out there, as cold and as judgmental this cruel society can get, it had been the quest of my life. Literarily. Look, so it won't seem like a cold betrayal (that's the last thing I want) I want you guys to know, Theme offered me a deal, and she'd pay us money for every performance. It's, like, too much money. But she's so generous. Perhaps she could even replace me in your band!" It was a challenge to keep up with Nyx's speech. She was shifting from topics.

"Aww…You're leaving?" Scar pouted.

"Don't you worry dude, you can come and go anytime you want; we'll always be here." Rox smiled, "She is living as a freaking mystery, Scar! Let the girl go on her case!" she rolled her eyes ad Scar, who nodded sadly in response.

"I probably seem cold-hearted and horrible but, really, I'm just trying to get out of the enigma I'm always living in!" She cried. Nyx didn't have anything against them, on the contrary. But she didn't want to kick herself again for making a stupid decision.

"Har, calm down it's fine. We understand, don't we Scar?" she nodded. Nyx gulped.

"I just don't want to make the same mistake all over again…" Rox brought a finger to Nyx's black lips.

"Go out there and find out who the hell you are. Your back will always be held by us; just call when you need help! Also, if you happen to find out, remember to inform us." That felt assuring, until Nyx had felt the darkness of Los Angeles on her skin again. She felt a strange sickness swell up inside her, and she was about to put it down under her list of dangerous feeling; she was all alone out there. She had been desperately searching for that cardboard box she resided in one night, away from the dangers of society. Once again, she had tried every potion and magic shop, cautiously, since Ashton could have been anywhere at the time. Recording her every move, maybe even trying to catch her unprepared. The night was weighing down on her slumped shoulders; tired of searching, tired of the same answer. At last, she had found it; already soggy from the rain that began to dribble slowly. She crawled into its minimal comfort, nevertheless. She shook the green graffiti can that Rox insisted she'd keep. She pushed the button down, releasing the intoxicating glow-in-the-dark neon paint. She coughed, covering her mouth, the box shaking with her. The florescent paint landing on her black ripped jeans, making it look like she dragged her knees through neon hell. She sighed at the unwanted light. Fumbling a little, she pulled out the Polaroid pictures, pressing them to the wall of the box with her nails, only to find them falling down. The rain got heavier, the top of the box caving in and dribbling. It's gonna be okay…she missed that terrible voice, the helping hand that pulled her away; making her transform into her worst nightmare. They didn't have an effect on her anymore; Nyx knew that. She'd always have that vivacious feeling of pain carved into her somewhere. She sighed and shivered herself to sleep, her weak arms winded around her tightly for comfort. That morning she woke up as if she hadn't slept in the box all night. And not in a good way. She was jittery like a pile of jelly in the middle of an earthquake; everything cold and wet. The green paint had melted into her jeans by now; losing the fluorescent effect it had earlier. Nyx yearned to go back to the Inn, back to Rox and Scar, back where judging was a sin, and everyone was almost like her. That would make her look like a coward, only. Nyx took a deep breath. It came in all jaded and sniffled as if she had been sobbing deeply all this time. She wiped her nose on her arm. She needed to find proper shelter until she got too sick to continue. The rain hadn't ceased to fall, and she had no umbrella. She took the Polaroids and tucked them in her pocket, attaching the spray to her belt. As she wandered up the streets, she caught glimpse of her reflection through the streams of raindrops pouring down shop windows. A few days ago she looked groomed for how she looked, her makeup was in order; her hair was brushed, she was clean. Being back on the streets, with the penetrating smog clinging to her face defiantly, her makeup smudged by the rain and her hair messed up by sleeping in a box; a soggy, cardboard box. She had hints of graffiti on her face. She'd understand if no one took her in. At least I'm not morphed. She smirked at her looks for a second, chuckling slightly at the thought though she didn't particularly find amusing. She had given Ashton all her money, which was promptly regretted by her gurgling stomach. If only she had kept part of the money…Nyx leaned against a brick wall in the temporary shelter of a thick, colorful, plastic roof jittering aggressively in the wind. She pulled out the Polaroids and stared at each intently. An unusual texture was added to the last one, and Nyx flipped it over. Neatly tucked inside the corners of the picture were two banknotes of fifty bucks. As she took her treasure out of its hiding place carefully, she noticed some message was encrypted onto the back in red, sparkly ink, a little blurry due to the sudden humidity it had suffered, but legible. 'Hey Nyx, by the time you read this you should already be feeling like a champion. Rox and I always put our earnings together so we end up saving a lot, and we couldn't let you leave without yours! Use it wisely, and keep an eye out for Ashton. Good luck in the big city! Xoxox, Scar. PS. Darrington Inn S.345 is our address. Don't forget to keep us posted with your quest! We're looking forward to hearing from you.' Nyx smiled sheepishly at the letter, clutching the banknotes in her free hand. She knew what she was using them for first. Pulling open a purple door, the bell ringed in approval of her entrance. She stood on the welcome mat of the bakery like a wet dog who had just come in from enjoying the muddy puddles in the park; all gleamy-eyed and eager, taking in the friendly, warm embrace of warmness. She looked around hungrily, each perfectly crafted and glazed bun in the display counter beckoning her. She licked her lips. There was no angry waiter to insult her and usher her away, there was no cop to arrest her for suspecting there was cocaine in the baked goods, there was no voice telling her it will be okay, there was no staggering pain in her shoulder blades, no fangs, no Ashton, no obstacles. Naturally, she had become the center of attention to all the posh looking ladies, sipping any form of caffeinated liquid and carefully, nibbling on one baked good. When Nyx was up to order, she glanced at the affordable prices of the luscious goods with even more hunger. She'd know that greed will manipulate her thoughts and she might waste all her money here, but she only left the bakery with one loaf of white bread and three cream-cakes. After wandering around a starving amount of time later, she had found a bench that wasn't occupied by an old lady or was too deep in layers of bubblegum. A bonus was that it had also been rather resided from the population. She starter with the bread first, sinking her teeth into its still-warm and fluffy texture, letting the crisp freshness roll into her mouth releasing a large amount of savory; her stomach not taking the wait any longer. She tore the end bit in a rather animalistic way; devouring it shortly with a satisfied gurgle. That hadn't stopped her. She kept bighting at that bread until it was only crusty crumbs on her lap, and she still was hungry. She lapped at the cream of the cream cakes rapidly, the pure vanilla flavor clinging to her taste buds in protest with every mouthful. The pastry crumbled in an adequate way around her teeth, the crumbs floating to the floor like leaves falling off a tree in autumn. She licked her lips tastingly, as she scoffed down the last cream cake, and massaged her belly in pleasure of the moment. For once she had placed all her stress into something that was soon finished and forgotten about. This reminded her about the bawogas…all those words Rox had left for others to understand, all the reflections and emotional depth linked to that one dirty, tacky wall covered in layers and layers and layers of truthful and pure art, yet it still leaves you empty of all things bad deep within you once you carved something on that wall. Sometimes Nyx liked to wonder if Rox was a good witch, unlike Ashton. She had used her magic to create the bawogas for personal reasons, and she had used it as a painkiller ever since. But Rox had never spoken of magic and she had opened up quite completely when they were trading origin stories. She hadn't mentioned magic even when they were pretty close, and she first introduced Nyx to the bawogas. It would've been a neat little fact to know, but Nyx just kept that as a small little theory. Perhaps Rox hadn't mentioned witchcraft in fear of being judged as being quite like Ashton. Maybe that was the reason behind her ultimate force. Nyx shook her head, her pigtails flying rapidly about. No, that wasn't right. Calling Rox a witch was the exact alternative of calling herself a vampire; it was judging quickly, yet she knew Rox for quite some time. Something about it felt off…and different. Just like Ashton and Theme. Theme…she had no memory to keep with her of that generous soul. Only the fact that she connected with her life as a bat in a small way. And Scar; her random bursts of emotion, totalitarian fear, and silly drunkenness all at once made the spontaneous character of Scar never to be forgotten. Her spirit would wrap around one's brain and give it a tight squeeze, leaving in dents in the memory lane so one would feel her presence at all costs. She should stop remembering all these things at the moment and stay focused on her quest. She had to find out, after all. All that thinking reminded her of that night with Ashton; how the lies had been hard to swallow; yet that gave her a clue. If she was to be starting anywhere to find any proper clues it would be the bawogas to truly hint her in. Despite Ashton's numerous lies; there was one thing between the lines of her twisted riddles that anyone could approve of being true; Nyx, had indeed, described her race to perfection. She had never met a specimen to give out the same side effects such as she, as Scar pointed out; she had never seen someone so emotionally unstable and… wild. She almost grimaced at the calculations of the length of the way there; her platform boots have already been carving patterns of blisters along the outline of her stale heels, and walking in them had already become much more difficult then expected. She didn't have her motorcycle either, and there was no bus that rode through there. She got up, crumpling up the fine paper packaging her goods were wrapped in and licked off the last of the cream from her fingertips. Slowly, she scooped one foot in front of the other as if she was walking on a tight rope. It looked ridiculous, but it felt as if she was stepping on glass now that she had been given a satisfied stomach. She almost felt herself reach down to the buckles and undo them, to walk barefoot than with the two clasps of fashionable hell to drag behind her. And delay her quest. But just one more glace at the truly smutty sidewalks, and her guts would tighten, twisting in a nauseating way as if on a rollercoaster. On the upside to the quest, the rain had stopped coming down, and the smoggy, morning sun had turned into a thin layer of clouds above her; the sun reflecting a vibrant white glow from above them. The weather had also warmed up quite dramatically, and Nyx was dried up. The cold temperature of the rain was still faintly clinging to her heavy clothes, but not in a disturbing way. Nyx didn't even bother react to all the side-glances and whispers. She kept at it, knowing that her journey would be overnight one. She felt more assured once she checked the map and noticed there was a park halfway. One place she can reside from cops and other dangers lurk in the darkness. The dark blue slowly swirled into the brilliant white of the day sky, turning on every streetlight like a chain reaction of lit up dominos down the street. The illuminated forged iron sign above the massive, matching gates read 'Hazel Nut Park'. Nyx yawned with a smile, knowing that her journey was halfway over. Her sharp hearing picked up some sinister sounds that the darkness didn't reveal their sources. However, it still felt rather assuring. Parks were she closest she could get with the energy of the forest. Unfortunately they didn't share the same supernatural energy as the Everfree Forest, but Nyx still found the magic feeling, coming out from every tree branch. The leaves crunched under her platforms; almost like she had been walking on chips for the whole time. It was lacking a reliable form of light, and it was hard to see ahead at times. Nyx's eyes glowed alert. She tried to concentrate in figure out what dangerous feeling that was bothering her. She felt her spine tingle, as her fangs grew out. She realized she had been tracking down a faint whimper. Her eyes helped her see through the dark accurately, until she reached a bench. A curly-haired hazel-haired girl's shoulders were shaking almost violently, the whimpers getting louder. Her head was buried in her knees; her jeans were getting tear-stained. Nyx's heart and mind stood in place. She was left breathless with guilt.

"C…Crystal?" she squeaked. The girl didn't respond, she lifted her head revealing her bright brown eyes, wet with depression. She was slightly younger than Nyx.

"N-Nyx?" She sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her fuzzy sweater. Nyx's motherly instinct kicked in, she rushed over to the bench, throwing an assuring hug around her, stroking her hair.

"Crystal, what in the world are you even doing here?!" She wasn't angry; in fact she had never been this happy, her voice came in reviled gasps; half laughing half crying. Crystal threw her arms around Nyx's neck and cried into her shoulder.

"Nyx I missed you so much!" she sobbed deeply, tears streaming down her face like the Niagara Falls.

"What were you even thinking?!" Nyx pulled her away, giving her a stern look, "Los Angeles, Crystal! It's far away from the Crystal Empire and is a very dangerous city. Crystal, you're only 12!" Nyx felt mad at herself for not being one bit worried she'd trace her footsteps and follow. "I've felt its roughness on my own skin, Crys, it's not pleasant." Her glowing eyes clouded with tears. Crystal seemed to be fiddling with Nyx's bionic arm, pretending to make adjustments to get an excuse not to look up in guilt.

"But…nothing happened, right?" Crystal sniffled. Nyx pushed some thick locks out of her face.

"I'm buying you a train ticket back to the Crystal Empire tomorrow. They must be worried sick not being able to find you." Nyx smiled weakly. Crystal rolled her eyes, but embraced her again.

"Can I sleep over by your house? I'm tired of sleeping in soggy cardboard boxes." She looked up at her with wet eyes. Nyx chuckled.

"I don't have a house, and cardboard boxes make great shelter."

"But…where are we gonna sleep tonight?"

"Crystal, we have a whole park to ourselves. Think about it." Nyx grinned, "come on, I'll tell you everything about what 've been through so far." She got up, pulling Crystal with her to look for shelter. They have been wandering the park back and forth, kicking at acorns and slushing through wet piles of leaves. Using a pile of orange leaves as a bed.

"That's why I was so worried. She is literary everywhere." Nyx laid down with an oof. Crystal followed, tucking her arms behind her head, adjusting her positions in the leaves.

"A basement don't sound nice at all…" She wrinkled her nose, "What a weirdo. I mean, what is it with all these black-magic criminals? Remember when the Changelings attacked last July and Dia caught Twisted Scepter who was using reanimation?" Nyx nodded, "Do you think they have an alliance? Or…do you think they are the same person?" Crystal asked creepily, while Nyx shook her head.

"Ashton has everything she wants here in Los Angeles; she would be very stupid to move back to the empire or form an alliance…she has newbies to use and oldies to trap. Not to mention that she is slyer then all the foxes in this world put together. She had me believe…" she voice was weak, "she lied about my identity…" she sniffled slightly, covering it up with sudden interest in the blurry stars above her. Crystal sighed,

"What about…those two girls you met and told me about?" she smiled changing the subject. Nyx smiled back, her mind shifting back to her days at the Darrington Inn.

"If you were to ever look up the word 'punk' in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Rox standing defiantly next to the definition. Rox had been like a best-friend-mother to me all this time. And trust me, she is so caring; despite her edgy personality, bright blue Mohawk and tattoos." Crystal looked shocked, "and then there's bubbly Scar, with half bright red hair; and the rest shaved off. She is as good a singer as you are a mechanic. Crystal; they could never replace you though. I have been kicking myself from the day I left you crying." She said softly, shivering a bit.

"Nyx…about that. I was planning on telling you…more like apologizing. My reaction was not mature at all and I totally over re-"

"So you aren't gonna donate me to your rainbow-making machine and relax listening to my screams of agony making analogies of how sweet revenge is?" Nyx laughed, receiving a soft nudge from Crystal. She let a large yawn slip by. "You pulled up an all-nighter, haven't you?" Nyx asks, rising an eyebrow. Crystal nods guiltily. They have been work partners for so long aspects that seemed off immediately stood out, and so did their reason.

"Nyx?"
"Mmm?"

"Where are you gonna go after you see me off?" Crystal asks softly. Nyx stared into the never-ending sky in silence. The idea of going to the bawogas processed as useless inside her mind now. What if she killed her feet on such a long journey and the clues she'd find would be completely irrelevant? Then again, what if they were indeed useful, as her little theory from earlier made sense.

"I don't know, squirt…I might have a place in mind." She replied tiredly.

"oh… and where would that be?"

"A place of recollection, where I have described my race to perfection…" she whispered, closing the black lids over her eyes. Crystal's shrug caused rustles in the leaves, as she turned her back to Nyx, wrapping her arms around her shoulders similarly to how Nyx slept. It's gonna be okay the baleful voices giggled to Nyx, only she had long fallen into slumber without their aid. She was deep into dreaming; of finding who she truly was; of finding out she isn't dangerous despite the large amount of proof against that fact she had in store. Once, every other night, defeated in the loneliness her betrayal had made Nyx wallow in, she'd wonder if she had a proper family. Not that she was excluding the fact that Crystal played a more than a crucial role in that, however despite them being so close; Nyx couldn't exactly call her family. Even if it had already felt as if they were siblings. After all, they have been through similar situations. It was the ice-y morning air that she woke up to. That and to Crystal rattling her rapidly.

"Get up! Get up! We have to go!" she urged, whisper-shouting and agitating herself about. Nyx stretched in protest, giving her a tired look, but standing up either way.

"What gives…?" she grumbled. Crystal rolled her eyes.

"It's 6:30 am. You know what that means, right?" Nyx looked puzzled. "Oh. My. God. I have been 'living' in L.A for less than you have yet I still know that every morning at around…this hour, the cops come patrolling the parks for any, well, homeless folk; namely us, so they can send us to jail for treason even though there was no treason committed." She explained, matter-of-factly.

"Oh, and where does little miss L.A-expert suggest we hide?" Nyx gushed sarcastically, still bothered to being woken up from her sleep. Crystal pulled apart the Velcro holding her sweater together, stretching it out.

"Behind this hi-tech camoflagoue blanket that I have perfectly replicated from the ones they use in the military!" She beamed.

"You couldn't have done that without waking me up…" Nyx groaned, laying back down. Crystal rolled her eyes and pulled her back up, holding out the blanket in front of them in protection.

"You do know that it only camoflaugues our physical features; not our vocal sounds. Nyx shrugged. "You snore." Crystal blurted out, stifling a laugh. Nyx had decided that the most mature thing was not to reply to that. She helped Crystal hold out the blanket and it worked a charm. The combat boot-steps in front of them hadn't even suspected the fact that they were there; or that they have been there all night. The coast had cleared soon, and Crystal slipped her 'sweater' again, getting up, struggling to pull Nyx up as well.

"Let's go buy that train ticket now." Nyx announced. They weren't so far away from the train station, and a bonus would be that it was in a way close to the bawogas. They were walking in a steady rhythm towards possibly one of the most bustling buildings in Los Angeles. The train station was huge; exagerratly huge. Almost as if one would have taken all the main avenues and casted a roof over them. Crystal would have definitely gotten lost if she had made it here alone. Nyx approached the very circus-like ticket booth, once again, ignoring the away the ticket cashier had wrinkled her nose at the sight of Nyx. On the bright side, Nyx liked to think that it as her who was abnormal; in that doorman uniform, selling tickets, but she didn't open her mouth to comment. Crystal was perked on her tiptoes, holding herself steady to the counter. The cashier had, clearly, recognized Crystal. Maybe it was because of the silver, hairband-like crown that was nestled perfectly in her hair, despite the fact that she had been sleeping on the streets and in piles of leaves this whole time. Or those hazel eyes equal to the size and beauty of embrodied plates. The cashier seemed to have bowed her head in respect, as well as apology.

"A one-way ticket to the Crystal Empire." Nyx said, smiling down at Crystal. The cashier fiddled with drawers, pulling out some papers and scribbling something down.

"That would be $50." She almost sneered to Nyx. Talk about bad manners. $50… that was half the money Scar and Rox had given her; use it wisely! The note read. Perhaps this wouldn't have counted as wisely; as it wasn't a way to benefit herself. Nyx didn't mind putting Crystal's needs in front of hers, even though that was a very small way to repay her for when she took care of her as a pet. Nyx hesitated, but shortly slipped the fine bill under the counter's dip. In exchange, the cashier slipped out the almost gold ticket, in fine print displaying the destination, the sides stating it was one way. Nyx handed it to Crystal, who clutched it anxiously. They walked up to the platform together, in silence. She watched as Crystal stepped onto the crystal train, shortly resuming after choosing a window seat, to wave at Nyx and draw sad faces after blowing onto the window. Nyx tried to smile, but the tears that swelled up as the train left the station were forcing the corners of her mouth down. The bawogas carried an empty feeling; not at all like the one Nyx had remembered the first time. It was already dark when she arrived. She sat down on the bench, exactly where Ashton had stood. She knew partly because of the burn marks she had left into the bench. She stretched her feet, the journey having done worse than expected, despite the fact she had arrived with time efficiency by her side. She laid down, gazing up at the four letters claiming to be describing her to perfection. She was lost in thought, trying to discover some sort of clue behind her own lines.

"Alright, miss?" a deep, fair voice asked lightly. She looked away from the wall to see a middle-aged man, not older than his late 30's, with dark hair packed messily onto his head, and alert blue eyes. Nyx blushed, not having heard any footsteps approaching. She sat up, straightening herself and clearing her throat.

"Yeah…I'm…good." She had been by far lost in his eyes. Who wouldn't? He seemed like a very fine-looking gentleman. He tilted his head, as if observing something obscure about her, but only for an instant. He grinned.

"All alone out here, on a cold October night?" Nyx nodded, grinning back, hoping her fangs wouldn't ruin it. The man shrugged, "Mind if I sit with you then?" Nyx scooted over and pated a seat next to her. He sat down carefully, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

"Do you come here often?" Nyx wondered about the security of the place.

"I wouldn't call it often, love, I just enjoy observing the art every once in a while. And by the looks of it, I'll guess you're the artist?" Nyx's heart froze. What he had just called her? She noticed he had a foreign accent as well; hint of a British one perhaps. Her blush deepened.

"No, I couldn't possibly be so experienced…" she giggled, looking at Rox's graffiti. "I drew this one though." The glow in-the-dark paint reflecting vividly against the curtain of deep blue in his irises. He smiled in an acknowledging way, nodding at Nyx.

"Tis' a good start if you ask me." Nyx felt her dark smile stretch from ear to ear. "What brings you here?" he inquired.

"It's kind of a long story…" she had almost forgotten about her quest during short conversation.

"I sure love long stories! That's how I pick up most of my clues, you know?" he said cheerfully. Nyx's ears perked up as soon as she had heard the word 'clues', her pupils dilating.

"Clues?" was all she could ask.

"Why yes, I am one of the most successful detectives in Los Angeles." He opened his beige button-down coat and pulled out a small flip-badge from inner pocket, showing her a golden badge with the words 'authorized detective' carefully monogramed. Nyx wrinkled her chin, nodding in interest, an idea hitting her just then.

"Well isn't this a cliché 'Christmas' miracle…" she said softly, shaking her head slowly, "I'm in need of just that."

"At your service miss." He watched her rather eagerly, "how may I be of service?" Nyx took a deep breath.

"I was the royal pet bat that watched over young princess Crystal Rune and assisted her with all her projects in robotics. I owed her my life since she had pulled me out of the jaws of an angry timber wolf and well…replaced my broken wing. One day my perfect life decided to take a severe turn. And I woke up as a human. To make matters worse, I have no idea about who I am. When (most likely) the curse that had turned me into a bat wore off, I couldn't remember my human life; or my human self. That's why I'm here. To look for clues and rediscover myself." The man nodded as she talked, recording every small detail into her mind.

"Have you any parents?" he probed after a while of processing silence. Nyx shook her head,

"Maybe, not that I can recall any memory or trace of them. I don't have a proper house either. It's way worse than starting life again with amnesia." The man rubbed his chin in thought.

"Alright then, you shall be staying with me until we can confirm anything. I do not accept protests." He said curtly. Nyx looked shocked, feeling pretty bad for not being able to have a say in his sudden generosity.

"I've been originally called Nyx, by my owner, since I was a white bat and it would have been ironic to call me a dark name as such. It means night in Greek. It means a lot to me because even thinking about it gives me power to act differently despite the way I look and despite the way others judge me to. Since I had to let go of that, I've given myself the temporary title of Harlow Blade." She covered her mouth with her bionic arm, her subconscious fired questions, demanding reasons behind the unnecessary information who had most likely made a fool out of herself.

"Alright ironic Nyx. I'm detective Jones." He got up, holding out a hand to help her up. She giggled into her hand again, extending her gloved hand daintily, her stomach fluttering with glee as his force pulled her up towards him. She stared into his eyes dreamily smiling stupidly, still clutching his hand. He cleared his throat a couple of times.

"Nyx? Nyx." He tugged at her hand. She immediately cringed, letting go and looking away.

"Sorry…um…we're we heading to your place?" she tried to change the subject quickly. Jones laughed,

"Right this way, love." He led her through darker alleys beyond the bawogas, the walls empty and waiting to be painted on, however equally as deteriorated. They stopped in front of an old English-looking block.

"So…where's your apartment?" she looked around as if it wasn't obvious enough. Jones approached the door and creaked it open, holding it that way for Nyx.
"After you." He smiled welcomingly. Nyx followed inside, and after a couple flights of steps and doors, she was inside the warm and cozy apartment. It looked fancy, but in a rustic and non-extravagant way. After the small cloak room (almost filled with coats very similar to the one Jones had been currently wearing), came a small living room, one singular couch and a fireplace, the walls were covered in shelves with old-looking books. Nyx took a while to look around and adjust to the place. Jones led her to the couch and sat her down.

"Is it weird?" Nyx broke the silence.

"What is?"

"Well I have just met you approximately 30 minutes ago, and you're letting me live with you…" she started. Jones shook his head.

"Child, a detective must always be alert of his surroundings and the problems of those around him. You are under-aged for living alone and your case is one I'd quite enjoy perusing." He stated carefully, "I do not simply let any stranger live with me. I should also mention it is a temporary shelter. Once we have you all sorted out you can move back with your original family." He smiled assumingly, filling Nyx up with hope.

"Are you certain you can decipher this though?" despite what her heart was singing to her, her brain thought differently.

"But of course! It wouldn't be difficult. Identity quests are my favorite!" he winked. She grinned, reassuring herself at least just this once.

"You have a nice place." Nyx mentioned, "Do you live alone?"

"Thank you, Nyx. At the moment, I do not. You are here to keep me company." That feeling of connection she felt with those objects in the Darrington Inn returned, towards Jones this time. She had begun to feel powerful sympathy for anyone who was lonely. She chuckled slightly, not wanting to seem pathetic for this.

"Do you fancy something to drink?" he asked her. Nyx refused politely.

"What time is it?" if it weren't for him, she would have definitely fallen asleep right out on the bench.

"Let me check." Jones whipped up his sleeve and glanced at the golden watch on his muscular wrist, "Quarter to eleven." Nyx tilted her head, if learning the punk dialect was hard, this would be impossible. "10:45 pm." he repeated. Nyx yawned once aware of the lateness.

"I think…I think I shall be hitting the hay. We will start looking for clues tomorrow, right?"

"But of course. Let me take you to the bedroom. I'll sleep on the couch for tonight." He walked in front of her through the small hallway, opening the door into a room that looked as if it was designed for a stereotypical teenager; with posters of the latest bands and a desk with a high-tech computer and the lot. Nyx looked around, then back at Jones a little skeptically. He looked around, following her gaze then returning his eyes on her, his expression confused, as if a grown man sleeping in a teenager room was completely normal around these parts.

"Um…I thought you lived alone?" Nyx tilted her head. Jones laughed half-heartedly.

"It's um, a way I gather clues for my personal cases." He turned to leave, flipping on a small lamp next to the bed, which also triggered some twinkling Christmas lights rimming the window, complete with a window seat. Nyx hadn't insisted on finding out what Jones actually meant, in fear of the sudden change in his mood. She kicked off her platforms, flopping onto the bed. At last…a proper bed to rest in. The mattress had been just right and the bedding to fresh it felt as if Jones had never even touched the bed. Nyx didn't even bother to tuck in. She had fallen asleep onto the duvet, hugging an extra pillow. It's okay…it's okay….that phrase was new. It had always referred to the future until that night. But Nyx let the vines of slumber wind around her with a smile on her face. She woke up late the next day. The Christmas lights had stopped their golden twinkle, replaced with the late morning sun. The digital clock ahead of her read 10:50 am. She had never slept so late since she left. Mostly because of comfort problems. And Rox. Despite the fact that she had fallen asleep on the duvet, a red blanket was covering her. She didn't remember that being there when she went to bed, but perhaps it was the warmth that had beckoned her into dream world. She jack-knifed in the bed, getting up at last, her organism satisfied with itself; her sore feet energetic and able again. She stepped onto the wooden floor and made creaky, slow steps to the living room.

"Good morning!" she called, looking around for any signs of Jones. A printed blanket had been neatly folded on the side of the couch, the mold his body had left last night was still slightly dug into the red pillows. A door opened to a room Nyx hadn't recognized before, Jones almost dancing out handling a pan dexterously, flipping the pancake promptly.

"Good morning!" he singsonged back, "did you sleep alright?" Nyx's appetite triggered by that delicious scent; the butterflies floating in her stomach as well as her blush filling her up just right.

"Uh-huh…thanks for the red blanket." She giggled, following him back into the small, peach-tiled kitchen.

"Don't mention it. I checked in on you to switch off the lights and there you stood, pressing that pillow against you and shivering into the dark," her explained, pouring more sizzling batter onto the pan after landing the first pancake onto a plate nearby, "it was what my manly instinct ordered me to do." He laughed, flipping the second pancake, this time with the utility of a spatula.

"Manly instinct, you say?" she smiled, pulling out a white chair who had been tucked behind a small white table which came out of the fall. She sat down in front of the plate and glass of orange juice which was set in front of her. Jones joined her shortly, after replacing her plate with a pile of three round pancakes, though he only sat in front of her with a cup of coffee. Nyx helped herself to making rivers of maple syrup drip from her serving to the bottom of the plate; sweetening everything. He smiled at her, watching her scoff down what he had prepared with so much care. Her hunger was more adorable than contagious; like a baby with a chocolate cake larger than itself. She hadn't even noticed the way her fangs stuck out to acknowledge the sweetness, and the way her eyes were glowing in pleasure. Fortunately, Jones hadn't either. His alertness needed to be refreshed and that would only work if it was with caffeine, which he had been sipping as happily as Nyx had been eating. She left behind a puddle of maple syrup, wiping her mouth with the tissues; her never-ending lipstick leaving black marks on it. She drank the orange juice so quickly; it only lasted for five seconds at most. That was another thing about living on the streets. When it rained there was water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. When it didn't rain…well one could guess that Nyx had gotten rather dehydrated out there. She had been to wrapped out in her bitter mood to notice any of those health matters though.

"Shall we hit the Everfree, Nyx?" Jones suggested as he watched her finish up the last of the maple syrup in a rather messy manner.

"Oh yes! That would be great! Maybe we can find hints about my species then!" She nodded, excited for the further expedition and got up, shoving her chair in. Jones tapped his chin and observed her for a second.

"Your species?"

"Oh," she laughed, hitting her forehead, "I almost forgot to mention that last night." Jones sat up straight, ready to record everything she was about to say mentally. "This has to be a side-effect from the curse or something. When I feel a negative emotion such as anger or adrenalin and it keeps building up inside me, these horrible wings come out of my back and…and splatter gore all over the place!" her hand motions became very animated by this point, "my eyes start glowing and these two perky fangs pop out." She was panting, ready to pick up her next words, "I've been tossed round' and been called a vampire so many times I can't get that terrible taste of bad judgment from my mouth. I know I'm not a vampire. I am not even attracted to killing, or blood of that matter." She added quickly, "Because that's not all. My ears and nose stretch out too. This process is so painful I usually end up on the floor in a puddle of blood, panting out my pain." She grasped onto the age of her chair dramatically. "but you are a professional detective! I'm sure a wild species such as I won't be of much bother for you to find out. In fact, I'm sure you deal with these types of 'mutants' every day for breakfast!" she exclaimed. Jones muttered something inaudibly and shook his head slowly.

"Well," he started, "I am a professional detective but I'd need more evidence to back up my conclusion. And no, I'm not a professional when it comes to wild species." If Jones valued one thing greatly it would be humility. He rarely accepted his rewards or even thank you's from his very satisfied and loyal customers. "But, I do have a pretty clear picture of what you can be. Nyx, be prepared. You certainly aren't a vampire, oh no, something quite far away from that. You are…a warebat." He said almost too gently, leaving Nyx in a jaw-dropped, still, and shocked position. A warebat…a warebat. All those times she was called a vampire, and she had denied it just to find out she was a really close cousin of that breed. A warebat. It didn't sound so bad. She was glad to find that her bat-self hadn't completely disappeared along with the curse. A warebat. Why had it caused her so much pain to be someone who she already was? Nyx had a million questions popping up all at once. Her head started throbbing as if it would sprout wings itself. That, and the fact that Jones' calm, and well-listening instinct made him so much more attractive. He pulled out a pair of square glasses out of a brown case on the table and gingerly wiped their lenses. He pushed them on his face and observed Nyx with a gentle expression.

"Are you alright, Nyx?" he said softly, approaching her.

"Uh huh…it's just…it's a lot of information to carry. Especially since it's the first piece of truth I've heard about myself in years." Nyx wasn't stable on herself. She felt an urge to faint but she swallowed it down.

"Great, then we should really get going. We have quite a lot of investigating to be doing today." He replied, patting her on the back on his way out. Nyx followed shortly, waiting for him to put his coat on.

"So…why the Everfree forest?" she leaned on the wall, ash he was winding himself up in scarves.

"Oh, I just assumed that it would be a brilliant place to look for information as such in. Gives me a vibe of inspiration. Must be that supernatural energy, you know? Believe it or not, it had been a great influence on the way I solved crimes." Jones smiled, opening the door.

"Mhm…sometimes all I need is a heavy dose of that energy and I know That I would be alright…" Nyx mused in reply, walking out. The key had clicked in the lock and their footsteps had begun adhering to the pavement to mark their journey so far. Nyx decided to take this as a time to get to know Jones himself. After all, she wanted to know if her sudden attraction was worth it.

"How long have you been a detective for?" she asked out of the blue, as they were walking down an empty street not far away from the Darrington Inn.

"Been doing it for only ten years now." He said in a hollow voice; Nyx took that as a clue that he had been processing things in his mind. However she had never met a detective before. Just had an idea about how their minds would run.

"And you still managed to be so good?"

"Why, yes!" Jones chuckled, "It's all quite logical. And I have always enjoyed it when the pieces of the puzzle one puts together fit neatly into each other. I believe it had been this passion who had triggered my success."

"Interesting…did you take any form of school or anything?"

"I have worked on my masters in philosophy, however nothing that has to do with being a detective in particular, no." would you ever look into the eyes of a lost, green-haired warebat and tell her sincerely that you lo- "Why the sudden interest in my life, love?" he raised his bushy-yet-not-so-bushy eyebrow at her. His expression had turned perfection down and defied it. Nyx looked away and blushed.

"Oh…sorry…" he stopped her, scooping her chin up with a curled finger gently.

"Hey, that's alright…curiosity is a mutual gift; you learn how to use it on the go." All Nyx would hear was some muffled sounds; if her eyes were animated they would be two throbbing hearts. She had been by now turned complete crimson and her goofy smile stretched from ear to ear. Jones pulled his hand away, ruffling her hair playfully with a chuckle. "That would be enough." He chuckled, resuming the path. As they hit the mossy canopy Nyx looked around. The energy immediately reacting with her senses. She didn't mind the fangs or her glowing eyes now that she knew who she was. Luckily, that was as far as it caused her to morph. "How interesting… I never assumed one of the causes for your transformations would be the energy of the supernatural forest itself." Jones murmured, observing her, yet still observing the surroundings at the same time.

"Oh, it has always been like that. When the strong feeling is positive, that's as far as it goes." She stated, still wishing she could sprout those wings and swoop between the trees, gliding through the air infused with happiness and a rather unknown, but pleasant smell.

"For me it is usually the energy alone that gives me that option. It's quite eerie how you cannot control it." He observed a tree's bark intently. They were in the range of Nyx's singing meadow.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a ware-creature as well, child." He spoke in a low voice, balancing his head on the tree. Nyx remained silent, watching him. "I'm…a timber werewolf." With those words and an agitated scream in what seemed like frustration, two fuzzy stick-like ears stretched on either side of his head, his dark locks extending in a very lion-like fashion, shaping his head. His nose retracting into a small, stretched heart button, the color black swirling into it as if it was blood going to his head. When he turned to her his eyes had lost their pupils, but he could see even better than before. Instead of the precious blue gems, they had been replaced with a pair of neon green ones, their glow oozing out in rays reflected on his face. His fangs had been greater and more ferocious than Nyx's. She again felt like a wimp when she saw Jones's musculous body be outlined yet even more vividly in his morph; with the perky ears, messy hair, bright green eyes and saber fangs, and then there was Nyx with her child-like features and miniature fangs. She felt the need of wanting to impress Jones. He was grasping the tree, panting, but recovering rather rapidly from the pain. Something Nyx couldn't do. She concentrated, squirming with her eyes packed tightly, thinking about every little time she had been called a vampire…thinking about all those times she had been betrayed or betrayed someone herself.. thinking about the adrenalin it took to perform. Surprisingly enough, with a forceful shove given by the energy, all those feelings had successfully built up and Nyx felt that excruciating pain in both her shoulder blades. Apparently forcing it out didn't revile more pain for the transformation. She was gulping up air by now. Jones rushed to her and held her steady. "There, there…are you alright? Get those thoughts out of your mind, child…" he rocked her back and fourth. Tears trickled as slowly as thick honey down her face. She had failed, and made a fool out of herself. Jones pulled her in tighter. She couldn't even focus on how she hadn't even dreamed about his sweet embrace, never mind actually feeling it around her. She squirmed, sniffling, trying to stop. It was on the verge of happening, but the feeling seemed to be slowly crawling itself back to where it started. "It's gonna be okay…" Jones crooned repeatedly into her hair, which he had been stroking softly. They stayed like that for a while until Nyx had finally accepted the fact that, first of all forcing an unnecessary morph is a very bad idea, and second of all it's impossible. "The energy had gotten you there too, hadn't it?" she noticed a slight drop in his voice, now under the control of the transformation. She smiled weakly, not sure how to build up an excuse to that sudden behavior without, well once again, making a fool out of herself in front of Jones. He pushed her away sturdily by her shoulders.

"I was…I was willing to show you the way it occurs to me…" she admitted in a small voice, Jones grinning in understanding manner. "I just realized that I couldn't force a transformation. I suppose one would think of it as very logical if you think about it. You can't force yourself to feel in a certain way…"

"I believe you can, but you can't make the memory of the feeling scar as much as the original." Jones added.

"It's the same with dreams…I've always found that funny…" the resumed wandering the forest again, "one's imagination can get so impossibly maleficent, I mean, doesn't our subconscious decide on our worst nightmares in first place? But then again, with dreams, even facing your greatest fear by memory won't make you feel the same way." Jones approved of Nyx's realization.

"Why do you think that feelings cannot be exactly recreated?" he inquired, her little theory made him think.

"I don't know…why does this have to be so difficult!" she laughed raking a hand through her hair in exasperation.
"Well love, good news for you. It had only become so much simpler." He smiled, stopping in a rather familiar place…not a meadow but more of a path.

"What do you mean by that? Everything sets me in a deeper riddle by the moment, I tell you." She looked around, though it felt familiar she was still confused. Jones tapped his nose with pride.

"Bats may be great with hearing but when it comes to tracking something down, you're going to need one of these. In other words, I have picked up a very old scent of yours. My smell is that sharp. Besides, the Everfree forest does indeed help one pick out an aged scent from a new one. The trail lead over here. I also happened to pick up a trail of…" he sniffed the ground some more. "is that…blood? I may be wrong but it appears to be aged very close to the time of your scent in not in the exact same time…" he mumbled, sniffling at the grass beneath him.

"Blood, Jones…" she said under her breath, concerned, bending down to his level to receive the news faster. Jones shook his head and stood up.

"Yes, it is more than likely it is blood I smelt. Did you happen to have an injury as a bat?" he inquired. Nyx thought hard. She had left the Everfree to live with Crystal long ago.

"Not that I can recall…" she shook her head, still wide-eyed.

"I also picked up the scent of a human. Young, I presume." He added, "Are you certain you haven't had any injuries, around this human?" then it hit her; the timber wolf had torn off her right wing. Of course there was blood. And that human had to be Crystal…

"Yes…I think I have actually…" she spoke slowly, looking around, "A timber wolf…a timber wolf tore my wing off…the human, Crystal that is, told me that I probably had fallen from my nest and he had assumed I was dead, as he probably was on the verge of bringing me to his pack as food. I can now tell that was a lie and that she had only anticipated it…"

"Well, love, those details are very useful believe it or not. Can you recall anything before that?" Jones smiled mildly. Nyx shook her head. Unfortunately, that was when the memory spell had kicked in. "What about an idea of who had cursed you?" Nyx shook her head again, shrugging helplessly.

"That's when I lost my memory. It kicks in really badly." She sighed.

"That would be alright. I know someone to inquire about that unusual form of magic. Her shop is located up in the town of Lizton. Have you ever been?"

"No, not at all. I'm rather new to the city." she smiled.

"Well now, doesn't that sound like an adventure?" Jones chuckled.

"Is it far away from here?" she wanted to know, giving her shoes a side-glance.

"Not quite. It does take two days of our time. I apologize for not owning any form of transport, however it makes my job feel more old-fashioned, more…natural." Nyx understood that; it was the same with Crystal and herself. There were so many forms of modern machinery all build for them to benefit from when constructing and inventing, but Crystal had refused to purchase any of them and use the classic mallet and nails.

"Hey, that would be alright. All you have to think about is the fact that we will get there in the end." She winked. They turned to exit the forest and make their way back to Jones's house to prepare for the journey. All the packing had been complete and they have been sitting in the tight living room quite soon, asking things about each other, both of them with lawyer potential.

"So how did this occur?" Jones referred to Nyx's robotic arm. She clutched it suddenly, self-conscious about it and surprised Jones had even noticed despite the glove distracting from it. She pulled her glove off, putting it in the light, sighing.

"Where's your logic, detective?" she smirked. Jones chuckled.

"A good detective never jumps to conclusions, however I do recall it is you right arm or wing that had been bitten off. Tell me, is this Crystal of yours some technological genius?" Nyx covered her mouth in surprise, he guessed it as if he was a past psychic. He came over to her to take a better look at it, fiddling with her fingers slowly. She tried not to blush too hard, however that was against her power. His touch was addicting; calming and exciting at the same time. All she could imagine right now was the probable dexterous way he'd kiss her. She hadn't dared pose that question yet, though.

"Uh…huh….I used to assist her in the workshop." she slurred. Jones nodded and returned to his seat.
"Well I cannot say I looks bad on you, child. I've always admired the steampunk, however with all I have acquired from you so far is that you would be more punk than steam." He laughed, Nyx joined him.

"That's me! Say, Jones do you sing?" he shook his head, smiling,

"I believe it's better for society that I don't take my singing anywhere outside the shower." Nyx giggled uncontrollably at that. "Did you…did you put graffiti in your hair, Nyx?" he moved his gaze from the graffiti can strapped to her belt to her hair. The color had been matching, however luckily Nyx's hair didn't glow in the dark. She felt her shaggy green pigtails.

"Um, nope. I woke up as a human like this. Why, is it unusual?"

"Not at all, quite unique, like your bionic arm, rather." He replied quickly.

"Have you ever been…married before, Jones?" she asks casually. Jones remained silent. His facial expression changed from neutral to very neutral, turning slightly pale. He hadn't opened his mouth to reply to this question, and Nyx understood the sign.

"Sorry…" she looked down at her feet in disgrace.

"That's alright," he spoke up, weakly, "you had no way of knowing it was a topic I do not prefer discussing about." Well that sparked Nyx's curiosity. And it had stung even more knowing that she couldn't inquire about it. Jones, even though he seemed open, had so much more to him that Nyx was eager to find out. She had to earn his trust first of course, after all, she had to learn that lesson all by herself. "Are you going to be alright, walking in those things?" he glanced at Nyx's shoes. It was the reason of her adopting the human way of walking very slowly, those boots. They looks like regular shoes, only with a huge block of leather stuck to their soles. They looked worn out, although Nyx had only seen them first once she had transformed. They felt as if she had grown into them…and out of them rapidly. Her toes were pushing father than the edge of her boot, leaving her surprised of how the material had been so sturdy and had not torn through, seeing all the walking she had been doing. She would feel guilty for telling Jones the truth, he had been already offering her ever so much, but it was very hard to lie in this situation. She took a deep breath.

"Well…" it also made her feel bad since thy have carried her through all those tough times. Even if they were just a piece of her random outfit, she remembered everything by just looking at them. Just for this journey…she sighed, "They have caused me blisters and I don't believe I will be able to walk with you properly." She admits.

"Not to worry! You can borrow a pair of shoes for the journey." Jones got up with a smile, leaving and returning with a brown shoebox under his arm. He rested it on Nyx's lap, who had opened it carefully, as if some kind of baby animal was sleeping and she didn't want to disturb it. She folded the wrapping paper away, and in the box, neatly placed, was a pair of two black boots; no platforms, just the classing, short lace-up boots, shiny, new…just her size. She glanced up at a very anticipating-looking Jones, who was watching her reaction while twiddling his thumbs impatiently.

"Jones…these are…they are perfect!" she exclaimed, slipping one of them on with ease. Their inside was coated in soft fur; it felt as if she was wearing house slippers for the whole time. She pulled the laces of the other one together, standing up and doing a little twirl, more than satisfied with them. Jones watched her, smiling.

"Well that makes me even more reviled that you like them. And that they fit." The happiness of getting that part sorted out stopped her from even inquiring why he had a spare pair of female boots in her size.

"They fit more than perfect! And look almost like my old ones! But only, what, like 100% better!" She was about to hug Jones for that. She hesitated though. "How did you know my shoe size, anyway?" she finally decided to ask.

"Always gotta have a pair of shoes in the average size of most people with cases. Just to be sure. You never know who will show up at your door in need of your help." He explained with a chuckle, the slightest of a blush visible in his perfectly sculpted cheeks, soon reflected by Nyx to a greater extent.

"You should be heading off to bed, love, we need to start as early as humanly possible." Jones said, again almost sternly.

"But it's only 23:00 pm…" Nyx protested, but Jones crossed his arms in such way showing he wouldn't budge.

"What you call 23:00pm is what I call 'bed time'" he put empathize on his last words.

"When I was at the Darrington Inn, living the life of a rock star with Rox and Scar we started journeys early all the time, but there was no such thing as bedtime." Nyx grumbled, her head bowed to the floor as she picked up her old boots and dragged them to her temporary bedroom.
"I heard that!" Jones called after her. Nyx smiled, but not in a way that he could notice. She closed the door behind her and turned on the flickering Christmas lights, pulling her knees to her chest on her window seat, and gazing afar. The house wasn't facing the back of some old, deteriorated building, but rather to a small but bustling town. It appeared to be more awake at night than at day. She traced the trails of the pearly raindrops, still resting on the window, pressing her head against the cold glass, her hair, however, creating layers. She watched the blur of cars swish by, this atmosphere lulling her to sleep without the need of those words…She awoke tightly wrapped in the covers of her bed, although recalling she had fallen asleep on the window pain. Jones was standing over her bed, as her eyes opened.

"How do you do, Nyx? Apologies for disturbing your dreams, but I couldn't let you sleep longer. We need to at least arrive by Masonville by tonight." Jones grinned, pulling the covers off of Nyx playfully, who groaned and turned to burry her face in the pillow, smiling to herself.

"Coming in a second…" she attempted to sing-song in reply, her voice coming out muffled.

"You mean to say that you will be coming now." He did not budge. Nyx got up, her right pigtail was flipped upwards, stuck to her head, as she wiped a trace of drool from her mouth. She spilt each pigtail in half, pulling on both strands to tighten them. She looked as if she had been in too deep. With other words, what Scar would look like after a night of partying. She yawned, stretching out both arms, and pushing herself back to her feet.

"Thanks for waking me up, love." She smirked, passing by him after lacing up her boots.

"Oh I see how it is," Jones soon followed her, "My way of speaking amuses you terribly, does it not?" he teased back, once they were on their way.

"Well technically only certain…aspects of it?" she giggled. The gravel murmured as Jones was rolling his brown suitcase along, otherwise nothing else could be heard. The nightlife of the city had died down rather drastically, not even lights seemed to be awake. That didn't cause much change; despite the dark grey sky there was still the early light of day, walking hand in hand with the typical crisp air. Though this time, Nyx didn't have to face it alone. She didn't even have to go back to where the jaws of society stood open for her, friendly-looking and welcome from far away, but drooling and blood thirsty as soon as she'd step in. She was finally on the right track. The journey she had betrayed Crystal for. That journey that appeared impossible at first. Now she was walking beside her newly found guy of her dreams. He didn't know that yet, but he was partly why Nyx had always fallen asleep with a smile on her face. The cloud layer only thinned out by midday, and all Nyx could think of was how glorious and pronounced the flavor of the baked goods she had purchased a couple days ago tasted. Her stomach was grumbling softly underneath her sound-protective arm.

"Hey…Jones?" she eventually couldn't resist the haul of hunger, the fact of them walking through a small, rural-renaissance like town made it seem as if all the shops were producing baked goods, and teasing the passerby's by leaving their windows open for the smell to invade the streets and overcome the smell of pine. "How far are we exactly from our set destination?" she inquired. Jones looked around and replied shortly.

"Not exactly, but not too far away, why is that?" She glanced to her side as they passed a pub. A waitress opened the door to get some fresh air, letting out the smell of fresh food and beer spill out. The sound of a good, humid atmosphere soon followed.

"Shouldn't we stop, to have lunch, maybe?" she suggested, almost urgingly.

"Ah," Jones checked his watch, "You are hungry. But of course. It's 16:00pm, and you are still in growth I presume." Nyx rolled her eyes,

"Don't make this complicated, let's just go in and eat. We'll be back on track in less than one hour." She promised, pulling him through the wooden rim of the weak door of the pub. They picked a table quite far away from the drunkees at the bar and the violent gambling games in the front tables. It was one of those restaurants designed to have a couch-booth along the back wall, with tables that separated the seats. Nyx claimed the red couch seat, which looked more comfortable than it seemed. She squirmed in her seat; trying to find a comfortable sitting position, it being rather hard for it to be found on a stale, thick piece of wood coated in a unimaginable thin layer of lush, red leather. Jones hadn't seemed to pleased about the chair-seat either; which he had sat in eagerly. But as usual, the pain was overcome by hunger, causing them to order a full meal, with about five large dishes from their menu. And they licked the plates clean as if they had never seen food before. Nyx at least. Jones had washed it all down with a large mug with ice-cold, golden beer, the white foam overflowing on both sides of the cup. Just when he asked for the bill, Nyx felt her food in her stomach. She had almost eaten more than Jones, and she used most of her performance money on 'survival food', buying Crystal the train ticket and the left overs on snacks. Maybe not all of it, but she was certain only a small number of cents remained left behind. She felt bad to see Jones pay for it, even her hesitation couldn't hold her back.

"T-thanks…I'll figure out a way to repay this…" she said as soon as they reached outside, the fresh air being quite missed after spending time inside.

"No need to, child." Jones smiled generously and waved her off, while Nyx was making mental calculations of how to get her hands on another small stack of money. Another tinge of guilt let out in her stomach, but she pushed it down, forced a smile, and returned her focus to the path. It turned out that the small town they had eaten in was just the entrance to Masonville; which was a very similar town, only more populated and slightly modern. The architecture remained just as impressive to Nyx, this town however having a different vibe, almost beckoning the passerby's without using the charm of food. She was so awestruck by some of the buildings, and the way that the residents were dressed, she bumped right off of Jones's back, as he had stopped abruptly.

Woah there, you aright?" he grabbed hold of her waist from the back to reestablish her balance, pushing her back to her feet. Nyx blushed visibly this time, smiling up at him.
"If you think that being so absolutely amazed by a world you haven't seen before that you cannot see where you're going; almost as if you have been blinded by its beauty, is fine to you, then Jones, I'll tell you I'm wonderful!" she mused turning around again to get a panorama of the place nailed to her mind.

"Glad you are enjoying it." He chuckled, "because we have a great room, with a great view right here." Nyx followed his gaze to a not-so-modest building, combining all the architectural goods found in the ones surrounding it. It had a large, wooden rotunda as its opening. The fancy street-hotel was mostly wood and glass. But it was so well done it had taken Nyx five minutes flat to acknowledge all the detail. And an additional fifteen to take mental pictures. Jones though not his first time, watched Nyx with a feeling that could be nothing other than understanding, thinking about his first expedition into rather mythical lands such as that one; complete different things than the big, and promising city of Los Angeles, though very close to each other. Nyx could tell that Jones preferred it better there.

"Here?!" She gasped at last, Jones was counting the seconds to a perfectly-timed late reaction.

"Absolutely." He nodded curtly, and ushered her inside, through the great wooden doors. The receptionist and concierge have acted ten times more generous than both Theme and Jones put together; all honest and friendly smiles, offering them a room with the best view, and to Nyx's benefit, a window seat. The room had two floors, a high window stretched from the outermost wall of the room to the celling, displaying a magical view of the nightlife. After trampling about in the room and eating all the chocolates left on the pillows, Nyx resided on the window seat, pressing her face to the window as if that would help her get a more precise view of things. Her warm breath left an opaque mark on the window, and shakingly, when Jones wasn't paying attention, she drew a large heart; arrow shooting from it and all, writing the initials N+J in it, a goofy smile peaking through it.

"You sure like window seats, don't you?" Jones had approached her, and she was so lost in her daydream it almost felt too sudden. She jumped a little, quickly wiping down her little doodle with an excessive nervous laugh.

"Yeah! Keeps me alert of what is going on outside…" she replied, cringing.

"Well, child, I can relate to that. Must be a detective reflex or something, but window seats are pretty neat." He sad down next to her, peering outside with a look that was clearly unfocused on the nightlife.

"Even as a young bat I have adored looking out the window. Sometimes that leaves me wondering if it has anything to do with homesickness…since I love spending my recollection time in the forest, or outdoors anywhere. But I just feel more secure to know the outside world is still there." She sighed, noticing that there were no cars or streetlights, unlike the landscapes she had been used to back in Los Angeles, this was completely different and Jones had been right.

"I'll have to admire that analogy, Nyx, it is very true." He smiled, "being half another animal does give you the instinct of 'outdoorseyness'." He chuckled. A loud pause of silence had passed between them.

"Jones…?"

"hmm?"

"Do you think that after I find my real family, and if they are still alive, they would still have me back?"

"What a silly question, love," Jones paused for a second, "I believe that they would be the happiest family alive to have found their daughter again." He smiled.

"But…I'm a mutant. And I can't control it." She protested.

"Well, tomorrow, miss Issor will probably explain it all. Once she identifies the magic that was done to you." He explained, "Just hang in there, and don't have any outbursts until then and it would be easier for her.

"What if she can't identify it? Just like all the other witches in the magic shops I've visited…"

"Nyx, do you understand that Lizton is the city for this area? If one needs a spell, a curse, a book of potions…the best ones are found there in Lizton. They are imported all around the other cities, but one would guess the core of magic lies there. Ms. Issor? Ms. Issor wrote numerous magic books. All greater than the rest. She is well-known to every magic user. It is their goal to become as successful as her." Nyx sighed in relief slightly.

"Oh I see…"

"Besides, when I first met her, I was as clueless as you are right now. About everything that was happening to me when I came near the forest. She knew who cursed me, she knew how I've been cursed, and she knew with what I've been cursed; finding these things out really quickly. To be honest, I'm very jealous of her detecting ability. It was she who pushed me to pursue in being a detective. I owe her all the credit!" he chuckled.

"She sounds very wise…and young." Nyx remarked, "like one of those gypsies with long gray hair and deep purple velvet robes, who put up a tent at fairs and peer into a fake crystal ball and predict your future." She chuckled as well. She had always been curious about their ways of predicting without using the least of magic. Just like Crystal's older sister, Diamond, who usually accompanied them to the mobile fairs around the empire, Nyx had never believed in fake magic like that. But she played along to see Crystal fascinated by their obvious accuracy. Her skepticism remained put about this miss Issor, however there was something about how Jones spoke about her that…it gave her curiosity. AS if who ever Jones trust she could trust freely.

"Oh, she's nothing like that. She's quite the ager. Everyone's anticipating her expiration, but it's almost as if God is saying 'one more day, just one more day', every day." He turned his gaze from the window to Nyx.

"It's so hard to believe that after all this time that I've been running in circles, I made it to the proper direction. I'm gonna find out the truth so soon it feels like it will slip away from me any second from now." Nyx pretended that she had the future in her hands and that it was slipping away.

"Well child," Jones sighed bending down and collecting the fallen 'truth' from the ground, "My advice from me to you is, if it slips away, get down there and pick it up." He placed his hands to hers, 'handing it back'. Nyx beamed, accepting the heartfelt advice. Nyx had later decided to push herself into slumber after a consoling shower. After such a long time for a human. Perhaps it was the fact she had always been half bat that her lack of hygiene didn't influence her health. That, or it had been the shower the rain had provided that kept her somewhat clean. The bathroom of their suite as spacious, everything still constructed out of the wood. Nyx had noticed she had worn her clothes so much they had left marks on her pale skin. She was so behind with meals, you could count her ribs and see every bone in her body almost. She stepped cautiously into the shower, turning on the over head option to a mild temperature, letting the pressure of the water rain on her. It almost felt like the rain in Los Angeles, lukewarm, persistent, this time it was pleasuring rather than something one would try find shelter for. Drops of bright green trickled down her body, creating patterns on the white floor. She used all the little sample bottles of soap and shampoo, rubbing them into her hair, letting the water revile the thick layer of dirt, detaching it from her. Once she was freshly clean, she didn't desire to exit the relaxing rain. The cloud of steam followed her out, clouding up the mirror, blocking her reflection. She rubbed the water off of her, letting the towel embrace here hair as well. She slipped back into her clothes, trading her boots for a provided pair of slippers. Jones laying down on the bed of the second floor, Nyx had left him there reading a mystery novel under the weak light of the bed lamp. She made her way to her window seat and resumed gazing out. Not hearing the water running anymore, Jones returned downstairs.

"Alright Nyx?" he called, locating her.

"Yep! Bathroom's free. And awfully green for some reason. Does the whole being half an animal thing have anything to do with why the reason of why the water turns bright green with the contact of my ski-" Nyx paused, Jones was staring at her open-mouthed, an eerie expression in his eyes. "What?"

"Y-your hair, Nyx!" he pointed.

"Well duh, I took out my pigtails to brush it better. Jeez, does it really look that bad?" She ran a hand through her silky shoulder-length hair, offensively.

"Not that! It's not green!" he exclaimed.

"Wait. What?!" Nyx got up

"How didn't you even notice? Didn't you catch a glimpse in the mirror?" Jones picked up a lock of it, observing it as if it was a form of alien material.

"It got clogged with condense. I took a warm shower." She said matter-of-factly, then rushing to the bathroom, freezing in front of the now-vivid mirror. A rushed hand went up to her hair, tugging at the messy bits.

"Ah, you have the messy type. Couldn't really tell with the pig tails." Jones walked in shortly, smiling at her. "You know, I don't find it a particularly bad look on you, Nyx." He ruffled her hair. All her make up had been washed away too. She had normal-colored lips and her eyeliner took away the edge of her bright green eyes. She blushed either way, tilting her head back to Jones.
"Why thank you, detective Jones!" she mused in an exaggerated British accent. Jones chuckled, walking her back out.

"To complete your look it would be elementary to take out those rings of yours." He pointed to her ears, "Then the stereotypes of society would never even touch you, love." Nyx's eyes widened, along with her smile. This was all it took to make people think differently of her first appearance? Soap and water? Had everyone gone pathetic? Nyx was almost outraged by this. It was a simple solution to this complex problem she had been buried under for a long time. It was true; she didn't even look like a punk anymore, much less an addict, a skank…or…a vampire. As a bonus, Jones liked it. She felt as if it couldn't get any better! She reached up to her ears, and pulled out her outer rings, then the star earrings, and the black ball ones. She removed the ring that had bothered her most form her lip, tossing them into the small trash bin on the foot of the writing table, each making clinking noises as they hit the bottom of the hollow plastic container. With each one she took out she felt herself change. Maybe this has all been a test; titled casually survival of the fittest, when in reality it is usually those who are psychologically advanced who score the highest. Nyx covered herself deeply in the covers of the bed located in the bottom floor, taking in the fresh smell of the neatly pressed sheets. It's okay…it's okay…lately even the voices had seemed to approve of what was going on, they remarked that she had reached the finish line and only the best is yet to come. Nyx had though about the last time she had shed a tear, or even transformed. Alright, she thought, not so much in the past. She tried to record all the causes of them; discovering a pattern of self-insecurity. She had lost that now. She was a warebat who looked just like everyone else, acted just like everyone else, and lived just like everyone else.

"Nyx, we really have to get going. I lost track of time and it has been miss Issor herself who has woken me up with a phone call inquiring about our arrival." Jones was shaking her steadily the next morning. He wasn't angry, rather rushed, and excited. Nyx obeyed shortly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She ran a lazy hand through either side of her thick, brown and shaggy locks and pushed her feet into her boots, two bows appearing on both rapidly, due to the aid of her bionic arm. She faced him shortly.

"Alright! What are we waiting for! Let's go fight some crimes!" She laughed. What could she do? Jones' energy so early in the morning was truly something contagious. They were back on the road again, after sadly detaching from the beautiful town of Masonville and the glorious hotel as well. As they walked, Nyx noted the houses changed. From them being further apart they came closer together. Merchant areas became

more common, and the population grew. She was surprised not to receive any side-glances or even to be called names by anyone, forgetting completely that first of all, she was in an area of the world known for its magical features, most likely filled with unusual creatures a lot like her, and secondly, her edgy and unfriendly look had been washed away. But positive things also have their disadvantages. Nyx didn't stand out in the crowd anymore, and the merchants were creating a great amount of crowds, each person more eager than the other to see what marvelous things were displayed on the taverns. She had lost Jones from her eyeshot quite a lot of times, mostly because the market had all sorts of potions; people trying them too. Half of her was looking for a bat spell, and the other half wondering how the magic even worked without…well…real magic. At the end of the fifth market they had gone through, a huge wooden sign arched above the street majestically. In curved letters it read 'Lizton', the sunlight hitting the letters just right.

"Well, here we are." Jones stopped, staring up at the sign. Nyx clenched her fists, taking in a deep breath before pursuing further. This. Is. it. Compared to the outskirts of Masonville, Lizton was nothing. There were no taverns, or brightly colored tents, or merchants, or markets, or crowds…only some sorry excuses for tumbleweed and putrid silence.

"Are you sure…this is the well-known city of magic you were talking about last night?" She wrinkled her nose at the dull horizon. Jones nodded, pulling out two pairs of sunglasses Nyx immediately recognized from the last taverns she saw. He handed her a pair.

"You see, since it's such a special phenomenon, the town must be protected, and it's true beauty is captured by only those of high-magic. Unfortunately, I'm about as useless to magic as you. Therefore, at least, a technology got invented, and it's in the lenses of these sunglasses. I meant at least, because we can't get all the clues by just wearing these, however you could at least see what the city actually looks like to a resident." Nyx turned them around in her hands. For some magic sunglasses, they did look like it. They had huge, yellow frames that had no outer rim. They glittered softly in the light the clouds had provided. Nyx slipped them on, shrugging, but then shortly gasping. It was all a trap for the outsiders, to make them believe it was a forgotten town. With the sunglasses, she was in a completely different world. Even the weather had changed. From the sudden cloudiness, there was loud sunlight spilling from the sky, the buildings were wooden, studious-looking and decorated with flowers at every windowsill. Nyx noted over five huge sundials close to the roof. The streets were paved in uneven stones, every now and then an unknown yet important-looking symbol has been engraved; weather it's the sun or the moon, she guessed it had something to do with the harmony along the residents. They walked around for a while, until even her new, comfortable shoes started hurting, passing by shops titled as; Macey's Ingredients, George's Wands, and Sunspill Cloaks. She gazed at the shop windows, their offers being painted on the glass in sparkly, template letters perfectly. Everything new had an old and dusty to look to it. They walked until they were out of the residential part of the down, the rocky-paved roads turning into a narrow and steep pathway up a large, grassy hill. A cottage was perked on the top, looking as if it had rose out of the ground rather then being man made like the other houses. Three brooms with complicated metallic handles were sunbathing, leaned onto the wall of the perky house. Jones led Nyx up the front porch, and knocked steadily a couple times. Shortly, the small-looking wooden door creaked itself open. In front of them stood a rather tall looking woman. Her long, white hair looked windblown despite there not being any wind around. Despite her obvious age, she possessed a great amount of beauty; with her cheeks, and jaw well defined and visible. She was wearing a deep green cloak over a raggy, red velvet floor-length dress, the embroided hood reached over almost half of her eyes. In her right hand, she was trusting a scrawny looking cane to hold her instability in place.

"Hello Jones." She smiled, her teeth though a little rotten, still looking perfect. Her voice had a scratch to it, but the energy and vibe of a teenager's. She opened the door shortly, stepping out of their way, "How rude of me. Do come in." Nyx stepped in first. The floor of her small adobe was mossy, similar to the forest's floor. This fascinated Nyx, and so did the insides in general. It was a grim house, but the energy was keeping it alight. She led them into a room with a round, floating table, around it were three pillows, and a crystal ball sat in the middle of it. Nyx guessed it was the living room, but it did look familiar to the tents at the fair. She took a seat on one of the pillows, setting her cane down. Jones and Nyx did the same, to their surprise, the pillows began levitating, carrying them to the height of the table. Nyx looked down at the floor, wide-eyed to see her boots dangling into thin air. Though the pillow seemed to weak, it was as comfortable as sitting into a very tall chair. She placed her hands on the table just to be sure she wouldn't fall. Jones had an expression as if he was doing this every day and levitation was everywhere around him. The woman grinned, holding her hand out to Nyx.
"You must be the child Jones had been telling me about." Her cool, bony hand traced the outside of her cheek. Nyx shivered slightly, covering it up by sitting up straighter in her pillow. She nodded.

"Well, yes that is me."

"Odessia, I do beg your pardon for paying you such a random visit, and being late afteral. But it really is an emergency. You see, this child has been cursed I believe."

Jones explained.

"Cursed?" she took Nyx's chin between her fingers and tilted it upward to peer into her eyes.

"Yeah ma'am, cursed." Nyx approved

"Ah…I see…" Odessia murmured, mumbling something under her voice. "Alright child, please peer into here and try not to wince at the light." She motioned towards her crystal ball and pulled her hood neatly down. A bright green dragon-like eye had opened wide on her forehead, which was perfectly outlined by her hair. Her other two eyes had closed shut, she concentrated until a beam of light shot from its pupil, illuminating the crystal ball. Nyx forced herself not to look away despite it looking like it might burst into a million pieces. Luckily it was soon over. Odessia placed her hood back on, a concerned gaze shifting to Nyx.

"What is it, Odessia? What did you see?" Jones looked more anxious than Nyx, who was still partly feeling faint and blinded by the sudden exposure to so much light. Odessia calmly raised two fingers at Jones, motioning for him to be patient and to let her process and think.

"A bat curse." She finally concluded.

"I knew it!" Nyx hit the table with her bionic fist. It wobbled slightly, Nyx cringing at the offended look she seen Odessia have on her face.

"Any other details?" Jones shook his head in amazement.

"Oh Jones", she chuckled slowly, "You always want to know the who, what, where, why and how, don't you?" Jones nodded quickly as if he was a teased little puppy. "Very well then", Odessia gleamed, "You have been cursed by none other than the infamous Janine." She gritted her teeth at the sound of that name, "A very, very…" she shuddered, "an attractive outlaw to the magic society. She has made a mistake. Due to her various intoxications, she was going quite insane, and when she gave birth…to you…" Nyx's eyes widened never as big before. Her jaw dropped so heavily, she couldn't pull it back. "it went out of control. You seemed to be about seven years of age when you entered her cauldron room. It wasn't clear about what small thing you had accidentally done that had angered her so, however she did get rather angry and had a panic attack. She shoved you against the shelf, a bright green potion trickling onto your head. That would be the bat potion. That is all I can see from your lost memories. I do know that Janine had shortly committed suicide for her sins." A large knot was forming inside Nyx's throat. The feeling inside of her was as grim as Odessia's voice. The silence lasted for a while.

"Mother…she's…" Nyx squeaked.

"Dead, dear, she had passed away in the sorry vortex of her own sins." Nyx's head collapsed onto the table with a wham. Her shoulders shaking rapidly in rhythm with her heavy sobs. Odessia put a skinny arm around her, but that did no comfort.

"Nyx. Nyx you have to stop!" Jones grabbed the side of her arm, but it didn't make the rivers streaming out of Nyx's eyes to stop. After all, she had come all this way, done all these searches, all to find out that her mother was dead?

"Stop, Nyx stop." Jones shook her gently, her sobbing didn't even pause, "Goddamn it, Nyx! You are unstable!" he shoved her slightly, with a raised tone that shocked both Odessia and stopped Nyx from crying. She wiped her tears, her heavy sighs and sniffles adding a roughness to her breathing.
"Wha-what ab-bout my fa-ather…?" she sniffled, Odessia shook her head.

"Unknown. Just like all the men your mother had slept with remained." She said flatly.

"M…my na-ame?" she gulped.

"Jennifer. Janine's only daughter. And possibly the only thing she hadn't given fake love to." Jennifer… she didn't look like a Jennifer…it felt like such a strange name…it didn't even have an ironic second meaning to it like her other identities did. It was so plain…so ordinary…but then again, so was her new look. For some reason, she felt unsure about trusting Odessia, despite the fact that she is clearly not a scam such as Ashton. Nyx gritted her teeth, trying not to break down in front of someone with such high a title.

"Odessia, this child can't control her powers! It's not like myself, that transforms only due to the supernatural power of the Everfree Forest, but with her, it is the build up of negative feelings!" Jones protested.

"Calm down Jones, this isn't a courtroom where we decide who is guilty." She turned back to Nyx, "I believe you have inherited the emotional instability from your mother." She stroked Nyx's hair slowly, some sort of energy Odessia possessed was helping her feelings. She still felt quite sick, but it felt as if it wasn't affecting her in anyway.
"I…" Nyx lifted her head from the table, "Is my name…is it really Jennifer?" she hiccupped a couple times, still not believing her true person, which was indeed the opposite of who she thought she was all this time. There was no irony, nor jokes…just normality. Why did Nyx dread something she had been yearning for her whole life?
"Well your mother, Janine, usually liked called you Jenny. Jenny Cide." She chuckled at the sound of that, "I believe she had called you that on purpose." Nyx thought for a second. Jenny Cide sounded more like it… her sinking heart immediately returned to it's happy position. Maybe her mother wanted her to be the type who starts genocides, hence her name, but either way this at least made her feel more herself and more at home in a name that didn't fit her. Nyx nodded weakly, as Jones put an arm around her, making her go even deeper in comfort. And sudden blushing.

"Thank you, Odessia." Jones smiled.

"It is always my pleasure, Jones." She chuckled again, "Can I get you guys anything to drink or eat?" she asked gently, as Nyx wiped her eyes again, slightly snuggling into Jones' comfort.

"Brew us a pot of that infamous tea of yours, Odessia, will you?" Jones suggested. Odessia shook her head giggling.
"Still in love with that tea, Jones? I'll go boil it up in an instant. I've freshly baked blue-lavender berry and almond sugar cookies as well, kids are always after those sweets around here. Unfortunately, I didn't know you would be so old, darling…" she looked at Nyx apologetically.
"That's alright…I like cookies…" she sniffled.

"Good. Sugar does make the best medicine, no?" Jones nodded and the both watched as Odessia's pillow lowered from the table. She picked up her cane and pulled herself into the kitchen.

"Nyx...or erm…Jenny…It's okay…" he whispered into her hair, Nyx shuddered slightly.
"I have to find my father…" Jones clutched her tighter at that.

"Yes, we will do all we can. I love new quests, you know?" he tried to be positive.

"Who doesn't?" She looked up at him, a smile forming between her tears. Jones pushed the locks of thick brown hair from her eyes.

"Maybe we can hit up more magical towns like these ones, and stay in hotels with large window seats, what do you say, Nyx?" She blushed, at his offer, at his will to make her feel better, at the way he is still calling her Nyx to prove that nothing had changed.

"Just me and you against the world…" she said softly.

"Besides, I haven't even yet explored half the destinations meant for detectives! Who knows? We might even find clues that indicate more things about you!" As usual, his enthusiasm was very contagious.

"What about that personal case of yours, Jones?" she inquired, "maybe we can find certain things that can help you with that." Jones stopped stroking her shoulder, but smiled at her.
"Well, love, I really couldn't care less about that now. Your story does intrigue me more than that." He explained.

"Ah. I see." Nyx giggled. Shortly, Odessia had returned form the kitchen, a tray of cookies casually levitating above her outstretched hand, the teapot and some glasses levitating around her head in the back. She crossed her legs, sitting on the pillow cautiously, the tray wiggling slightly but not tipping over. The pillow lifted her up and she set everything onto the table, panting in relief.

"I'll tell you, levitation does come with age. The teenagers are the strongest…and now you have me…I can barley carry so many things!" she exclaims.

"Miss Issor, if you don't mind me asking," Nyx started, her comment had rose a couple questions in Nyx's head.

"Yes, darling?" she replied, picking up a cookie and dipping it into the tea she had poured into her cup.

"How old are you, exactly?" she inquired. Jones appeared to be listening intently as well, as if his politeness had beat his curiosity to it, nibbling on a cookie.

"Well, Jenny, I'll have you know that I have lived many lives, believe it or not." She laughed at the question; something old ladies wouldn't even dream of doing. "In this life I am around 109 years old."

"What do you mean about?"

"I don't count birthdays. I always thought that judging someone's age by how many years they have existed for is such a false thing to do, am I right Jones?" she glanced at Jones, helping him to another cup of tea. Nyx took a taste form hers cautiously. She admired the cups more; dark blue ceramic with a golden design, small with no handles. The tea was a bright purple liquid, despite it's color it was still see-through. It looked like the water a busy artist had cleaned his purple paintbrushes in. And she didn't speak anything of the smell. Fragrant was one way to put it. It was almost too strong for her; as if someone mixed every drink in the world to produce this substance. The tea soon came in contact with her curious taste buds, her fangs immediately popping out in approval and her eyes glowing excitedly at the variety of flavors. It then soon morphed into her new favorite flavor; dragon fruit.

"Are you listening, Nyx?" Odessia was snapping at her impatiently. Nyx shook her head quickly, setting the glass down. "That's the only reason why I hate serving the pleasure-tea to people I want to have conversation with." Nyx tilted her head. "This tea works as well as your biggest fear scares you. Once you taste it, the flavors will soon morph into one that you never tasted before and learn to absolutely adore; hypnotizing you. I usually drink it before I go to bed, so the hipnoze doesn't beat my fatigue feeling." She explained, Nyx glanced at her cup again, a little scared to taste it again.

"Sorry, ma'am… what were you saying?" Nyx couldn't face Odessia's bright lavender eyes after falling for the tea.

"I was simply explaining my theory; how one can be as old as I but have the mentality of a teenager. So one would be more accurately categorized by mentality." It wasn't surprising that Odessia beheld so much power in the world of magic. She could have the mentality of an 50,000 year old and still would be determined to share her knowledge with others and learn.

"This has been nice of you Odessia, and thank you once again." Jones smiled once they finished their tea, their pillows levitating to the ground in Odessia's command.

"Where are you two headed off so quickly?" she placed her hands on her hips defiantly.

"Well…we were going to head back to Los Angeles…" Nyx drew patterns with the tip of her boot into the mushy ground. Odessia looked at Jones disappointedly.

"Jones Arthur Brook, how dare you force this child into such a journey after so little rest? Have you no responsibility, mister?!" Nyx couldn't help but giggle at the way Jones was being scolded. He cringed.

"Where else were we to go? We anyways have an overnight break by Masonvi-"

"Nonsense, Jones! It's already so late. You are spending the night here." She stated, with a stop of her cane the door receiving a rather large lock. Jones rolled his eyes.

"Odessia, I really appreciate all you have been doing but I ju-"

"Oh, aren't you a great one for appreciatin'! You're always goin' round' and offering people you just met your life. A gentleman so generous I have never met. But stubbornness gets the most of this individual, I'll tell you. He does the favors but when ya wanna return it he's always refusing'!" Odessia received a slight southern accent in her little rant. Her face turned bright red. Jones shook his head smiling; how could you even argue with this witch? He agreed to spend the night, and Nyx could have been more excited about it, in fact her enthusiasm was so great, she threw her arms around both Jones and Odessia, gathering them into a group hug. Odessia was leading Nyx upstairs. The cottage had small, curved steps, as if you were stepping on a weird form of mushroom. The hallways were narrow, and the walls were smooth.
"You have a very…interesting place! I sure wouldn't mind living here!" Nyx exclaimed.

"Oh aren't you sweet to say so…" she gushed, "I have personally designed it. However you clearly haven't ben inside one of the houses down town have you? This is nothing compared to their mystical indoors." She smiled, opening a door similar to the front one they have entered; the top was perky and formed the frame. It led to a small room; a window shaped like the doorframe was carved next to the round bed with dim daylight streaming through. She wondered if the sunglasses Jones had bought worked on the insides of houses. She pulled her pair out of her back pocket. She still gasped at the sight of her room; it looked as if it was designed for a fairy!

"It's beautiful!" she said in a whisper, scared to ruin its delicateness. Odessia grinned.

"I'm glad you will be enjoying your stay, Jenny."

"What about Jones?" she asked almost automatically.

"He can take the room next to you. Why is that? Do you two usually share a bed?" she raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief; Nyx's face immediately blushing at the thought.

"No, no…just erm…curious." Which was for once, the truth. She said good night to Jones and Odessia and she disappeared into the privacy of the guest room. Nyx finally put her finger on what was missing; a window seat. And this was bothering her since the view of Lizton from the hill top was really something one wouldn't like to miss. She sighed, sitting down on her knees in front of the mirror, greeting the moon which was smiling outside, above her. The windows did not have any glass…only that plus of wood that forms the frame. The nightly breeze sent electric chills down Nyx's back. She would even fight the cold to fall asleep looking outside. Since everyone had their strange obsession; this was Nyx's. Though, unfortunately for her, her tired legs couldn't hold her weight even on her knees sitting down. She gave in and laid down on the bed, just five inches of her feet poking off the edge. After tossing herself and turning around the red covers and bright pillows, she had given in, admitting that this room was meant to be comfortable for witches only, and sat up on the edge of the bed, cupping her head in her hands, frustrated hands running through her tangled hair. Maybe you have inherited this emotional instability from your mother. Odessia's voice seems to be echoing through the room. Nyx spotted a strange glow from the corner of the room; as if someone was sprinkling glitter into the beam of moonlight.

"What in the world…" she grumbled, getting up to take a better look. Her eyes were already glowing in the build up of frustration. She noticed a note she hadn't seen before when she had first entered the room. It was as small as a business card; inked in cursive were some words illegible to her in the terrible light. She tapped inside of her palm with her other hand softly, triggering the light to switch, turning on the soft yellow mushroom lamp on her night table. She squinted at the neat calligraphy.

" 'My dearest Jennifer,'" she muttered the words under her breath, in disbelief, "'You are my only hope, and you have to follow the steps I listed; for I will explain later. Use the blade in your bionic arm and make a cut in your skin. Let one drop of blood fall in this circle here,'" there was an arrow to a perfect circle onto the bottom-right corner of the card. "'Let the teardrop you'll shed fall here,'" that arrow lead to a square on the bottom-left corner of the card. "Once you have the samples repeat the words in between. You'll have only to benefit from this, honey. Love, mom.'" Nyx was shaking with every word she had read further. She held the card as stiffly as she could even though her first instincts was to drop this and scream. Wasn't her mother dead? Before she could even think about the possible consequences, she flipped open the tip of her little tip of her pinkie finger, releasing the buzzing razor. She winced as it's excited end almost came in contact with the skin of her inner wrists. Bighting her tongue, she touched her wrist with it for less then a second, putting the cap back on and pressing the card where it asked for the blood, wiping her exasperated eyes with the square part of the card. Her wrist bled further though.

"United souls seek the same goals, reanimate the life without causing a strife…" she read the words carefully. Nothing happened, and Nyx shrugged, clutching her bionic hand over the deep cut in her other. She laid back down, tucking her hands behind her head and stared up at the celling, leaving the light on. The card had fluttered to the floor with the help of the breeze. Now the consequences returned to her morality. What if it was a card written by Ashton? The little 'words' she had to read out loud rhymed and didn't make any sense whatsoever, much like the riddles she has been told. And the cryptic way she had been asked to donate tears and blood…that was only something Ashton would do. She drifted into sleep thinking about what she would do to Ashton if she had fallen into her trap again, the night getting darker.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed a voice that made Nyx jolt up. "It…it worked!" before her stood a tall lady; an exaggerated hourglass of a silhouette. The cape of her purple cloak was drifting towards the pull of the wind, swaying with her perfectly curled brown hair, which reached back to her waist. Her eyes were large; of a color that could either be a bright yellow or a neon green. They were aimed at Nyx almost anxiously. She turned on the heels of her leather, thigh-high boots, facing her. Nyx noticed she was wearing a black, lacy bodice one-piece and nothing else but that and the cloak. A large, but not-so-extravagant hat was perched on her head. She smiled at Nyx, her teeth straight and sharp.

"Holy…crap…"Nyx tried backing up, but she soon would feel the edge of her bed and fall off. She crossed her arms.

"Now, Jenny, there's no reason to swear about it. Just step into reality with me, what is this your first time seeing magic?" she didn't look old at all, on the contrary, and her voice seemed so loud to Nyx she wondered how Odessia and Jones are still sleeping soundly. Her first instinct was to bring up her finger to her lips to indicate that there are other people in the house and that this must be kept quite secretive. But the lady shook her head, "Darling, you are the only person that can see and hear me. You summoned me with your blood and all that." She giggled, taking a step closer to her, "Don't you recognize me?"

"I…um…I…" Nyx didn't know what to say. Memories of what she saw in the crystal ball; they didn't even appear like they happened to her. Yet at the same time they did… "From a distant memory I presume, yes I do remember you." She spoke softly, reaching out her bionic hand, meeting it with the ladies' fingers, "m-mother?" Janine nodded slowly, her eyes tearing up. She gathered Nyx into her arms; her ghostly form still keeping her solid somehow. They both burst into tears; but not the type that made Nyx grow fangs and sprout wings. After what seemed like forever of this grim family reunion, Janine held her back and examined her, eloquent eyes shooting to the bionic arm which she had immediately picked up in a dark-gloved hand.

"What happened to this?" she asked warily.

"Timber wolf bit me before I became a pet bat." Nyx shrugged as if being part robot was no biggie whatsoever. Janine grimaced, standing up, pulling Nyx with her.

"We really need to bond some. Though I think it's too late for you to create a different impression of me that isn't negative, I can at least try to, right?" she smiled, "Come on, I want to show you something. But you need your wings for that." She tapped Nyx's back, the wings popping out cleanly and painlessly. Nyx tried to glance back in shock. She hesitated at first.

"I can't…they will get worried if I leave and I do-"

"Rule number one, my Jenny, always trust mother." She smirked, "Besides, I'll make sure you're back here early enough that no one would know what happened. No one but your memory." For some reason, that assured Nyx. She felt like she could trust her with her life now. Almost. Then she recalled the fact that her mother committed suicide, because she was insane. Because she was emotionally unstable. Because that was the only trait she had given Nyx. Because if was she who had cursed her with her dreaded bat-half. She still took her hand and they floated out the window and into the open dark of the night. The hill led to a small forest ahead of them, and Janine navigated like an arrow through the trees. They raced through meadow after meadow, slalomed through tree after tree, touched every moonlit body of water; small or large. It really appeared smaller than it was. They flew until Janine hit the breaks to their graceful gliding at the edge of a cliff. Down below was a field of poison-joke flowers; that pulled a little prank on you if you disturbed them, the other half of the field was of sleepy lavender. The two types of plants seemed to clash each other for the title of the most significant. Nyx stared in awe; it looked like a battlefield of fairies. Everything in Lizton, in fact, seemed to be fae-related.

"I used to come here all the time to recollect." Janine confessed, sitting down onto the tip exactly, letting her long legs dangle down. Nyx copied her, sitting alike in silence. Everyone she'd met had a place of recollection…this one was one she had felt a true connection to however. "When you were little and you would keep me awake by crying all night, I'd wander around the forest until I found this place. Though these large masses of weeds aren't anything special; something about the ways of nature had always seemed to tranquil you in a way beyond my powers." She spoke softly into the sheer darkness. One more clue down; Nyx wasn't a bat at soul, and no one could have told her this truth but her mother herself. Then again, it was her mother who had cursed her with this in the beginning.

"Mother?" she daren't look at her face for the following question, so she stared off into the dark patch of poison joke instead.
"Yes, Jenny?"

"Why have you cursed me? Was it really an accident, like Odessia told me?" the silence from before resumed, and prospered. Janine sighed.

"Odessia and I…we used to go to the same school." Was her answer. Nyx wasn't satisfied with that.

"Yeah, okay, but…why am I standing here as a bat now?"

"Well for someone so troubled you sure are impatient child!" Janine almost scolded, shaking her head in disgrace, "You are a warebat, first off, and secondly, I was going to get to the point." Nyx felt the instinct to roll her eyes at this lecture almost natural. "Jenny, sometimes a point needs a backstory in order to be proven." Nyx anticipated that one simple answer anyway. "Me and Odessia went to the same magic academy. She was obviously the special one…and I clearly was not."

"Well then how come she's a freakin' grandma and you're a model?" Nyx was already counting the possible lies on her fingers.

"Once you die, my Jenny, you hold your same age when you are summoned back to life." She explained, "As well as the fact that, indeed, Odessia had lived many lives. She was a chosen one from the supreme witch council." She said those words mystically, letting their significance give weight to the darkness. "If you go to a magic academy, every first-year student dreams about being in the council. The meetings; though significant, are top secret, and all one knows is that the selections aren't democratic, but rather reincarnations of witches who have passed." Jannine's round eyes seem to reflect the moonlight more as she spoke.
"How do you know you're a reincarnation though?" Nyx wanted to know.

"That is simple, Jenny…the magic academy is what you would call 'high school'. Four years of your life dedicated to shaping your future. By the half term of the second year, though, half those students, dedicated with their lives to the witch counsil…well they become victims of alcohol, drug usage, or even depression." Janine's voice became more gentle, "Students who were able to graduate have the option to take a test. Because that's how they figure out who'se destiny lies in the council and who's fails to."

"Wait…but...how does this relate to Odessia?"

"For the love of Pete, Jenny! You would really make a terrible detective. Listen for a change, would you?" Janine snapped and Nyx muttered an apology. "As I was saying, we used to go to the same school. Heck, we were insepreble for all I can say; everything we had was in common, from crushes to dreams about the future. And that would be that one dream in particular. It all lasted until year eleven. Let's say I got side-tracked later than the vast majority. And…and the sudden attention I was receiving from the opposite gender suddenly appeared more appealing to me than the theories and formulas of magic potion class." She paused for a second, looking at Nyx, out of character from the story, "Jenny? Do you know about the birds and the bees, yet?"

"Mo-om!" she immediately reacted, cringing deeply, "I'm sixteen!"

"Oh…well I'm not very good at this mothering thing, am I?" Janine bowed her head down in shame, "Sorry…"

"Hey," Nyx smiled asuringly, "at least you didn't go into extremely graphic detail without assuming I was clueless!" then she chuckled, "please don't though, okay?" she looked at Nyx from the corners of her eyes, a tinge of surprise in her stare.
"Jenny…? How do you know about what happened?"

"Well…duuh! I've been spending the past couple of hours of my life with one of the best-known and wisest figures of magic in the world!" Janine sighed.
"Oh, well, of course she told you. I would do the same if I was in Odessia's place. I have betrayed her severely and I do deserve all the consequences."

"How have you managed to drop out of high school, have so many lovers, betray your best friend, and become a huge rebel to magic in such little time?" Nyx asked without any sympathy. Which was something she immediately regretted. It was probably from the time she'd spent back at the Darrington Inn; confidence and self-insecurity were two synonyms of each other, with Rox being the head of the dictionary. "Sorry…I guess I'm not too good at the whole daughtering thing either." Nyx resumed her interest in the plants again.
"That's alright. It makes up for my mothering." Janine chuckled pulling Nyx in close and bopping her nose.

"Well, look who'se assuming I've finished a point!" Nyx smirked, "I'm not done, you should listen for once, Janine." She mock-scolded, making Janine laugh. "despite all those sins you've done in that inpressingly short amount of time…I may not be great at judging people so feel free to beg to differ…you made up for them. By being yourself. Maybe your destiny was to be a rebel. I'm sure if morality hadn't clawed those two things up, mom, you'd be just as good as Odessia. If not even better." She smiled, receiving a warm hug from Janine in return.

"You know, for someone who listens so badly, you do have the hearing of the bat. You're so sharp, Jenny, you can hear between the lines of whatever I'm saying!" she exclaimed, "Which…worries me. I wonder how much of that substance had dripped onto you and mixed with your blood…" she tapped her chin.

"That doesn't matter. See? That was another thing you've done accidentally. Without you cursing me for half my life, I would've taught myself to be what the others thought I was, you know? I've kept telling myself over and over in my head that…"

"it's gonna be okay…" they said simultaneously. Nyx froze and turned to Janine.
"can you…can you repeat that?" she said warily.

"I said, it's gonna be okay." She smiled.

"that voice…that voice!" Nyx shouted getting up, "That voice! Those words!"

"What the hell ails you, Jenny?! Sit back down!" Janine commanded, though Nyx didn't obey.
"Those four damn words…" she was pointing accusingly at her, "those four. Damn. Words. They filled me up with false encouragement and determination to keep going until I realized I was going no where. But only when I reached the end did it make sense!" She put a finger in the air, in triumph of her latest discovery.

"Why, yes! They are part of a lullaby I used to sing to you as a child." Nyx sat back down rapidly, staring at Janine and listening intently. "You want me to sing for you?" she rised an eyebrow, Nyx nodded excitedly, like a little child being asked weather or not they wanted a lollipop as big as their head. Janine rolled her eyes. "I may not remember all the words to i-"

"Sing it!" Nyx demanded, "I need to know the rest of the lyrics!" Janine sighed.

"The day has gone, come to end, time to rest deeply in your bed. Your wildest dreams, are breaking the seams, but have no fear to chase them back. When there are times, you'll feel betrayed, just remember…it's gonna be okay…" Janine's voice was gentle, and the acceptable atmosphere of the night was coaxing Nyx's insomnia. She was about to fall asleep but the song was soon over.

"It's a beautiful song…" Nyx whispered, "but how come do I only remember the last verse ever from that whole thing?"

"Well after a while, that was all it took." She chuckled.

"All it took to what?" Nyx looked puzzled.

"all it took to put you to sleep." That explains it. Nyx thought.

"Mother? Are you really emotionally unstable?" after this long, assuring talk it really didn't feel like the feeling could build a wall between them anymore.

"I have stabilized myself over the years as a corpse." She laughed slightly, "but yes, the overdose of intoxication with both drugs and alcohol wasn't a great addition to my reputation already. This forced me into depression…and look at us how we're jumping from story to story! You know everything about me now. I want to know everything about you! You are the best mistake I've ever made after all."

"Mistake? What do you mean?"

"I was so drunk when I realized you were, well…inside me, that I completely forgot to mix up an abortion-potion. You were the only child that survived. Not to mention the fact that you placed me back on the right track with responsibilities. Perhaps calling you a mistake is a mistake by itself." Nyx didn't like the truth as much as the reality. And yes, they are two different things. But she learned to accept them both; just like she did with herself, in other words.

"Oh…I see…" she said softly. They had stayed out on that hill until hints of the sun rays were perking up above the limited horizon rimmed with the clashing flowers. The morning got cooler and Nyx already felt the damp dew on her skin, shivering at it's crispness every now and then.

"I have to get you back now. There's one more thing I have to explain before we go though." Janine stood both of them up. Nyx tilted her head.

"That would be?"

"Nyx, you can summon me once a month; any day you wish. Just say the words I've written on the card. No blood. No tears."

"What do you mean I can summon you? You're right here to stay right?" Janine gave Nyx a sad smiled.

"Unfortunately not, child…you become a ghost for a reason. It's an unfair way for nature to give you the chance to repay for the sins that you have done in the past." She shook her head, tearing up a bit, but hiding it in her hair. Nyx's eyes gave off a glow in approval of the melancholic situation.

"Oh. Right…" she squeaked, keeping her head down. But Janine reached forward and tipped her head upright, giving her a weak smile. They flew back through the same pathway of grim trees crying over bodies of water; the trail that seemed releasing and quite enjoyable now a pathway Nyx never wanted to remember again so the tears wouldn't return. They floated back through the window and into the small room. Nyx had been surprised to see that neither Odessia or Jones had been disturbed by the commotion they caused at first and went up to investigate. Everything was the same as it was left. Nyx hugged Janine tightly, her skinny body fitting securely into her mother's arms. She finally felt truly at home there. With love that even though generous was also true. It was hard to bid farewell to probably one of the most important person in one's life. But the summon-spell was limited, as well as other forms of magic, and Nyx had ended up hugging the thin air instead of Janine. She flopped onto her back on the round bed; exuberant though exhausted. She didn't even care it was too small for her; she just slept right the way she fell; her arms extending to either side and gently tipping over the edge. She hummed the lullaby over and over until the melody became a muffle and her dreams began projecting themselves on the walls. She recalled the first time she'd slept in an actual bed after her time on the streets; and that would have been at Jones' home. She remembered how late she'd slept and the surprise red blanket she found over her. She had never slept so good in her entire life…as a human. But this? It definitely defied that experience. It was the love that was keeping Nyx afloat from all conflict and discomfort, but something about the way Janine had cared for her was different than the love she had felt before. And no, it was not due to the maternal characteristics she beheld. The way she addressed Nyx; as if she was her best friend or a fellow adult who understood everything about her, not to even mention the way she was admitting her mistakes without a shame. Many, including the wise Odessia herself, would say that Janine was the worst role-model any child could have. But it was always the contrary. If Janine did anything, she had portrayed these sins as taboos Nyx would never even dream of committing now. Almost as if others were learning from her mistakes rather than their own. Then it all occurred to her; the perfectionist view of things and the more rebellious view of things always contradicted eachtoher, and society had often chosen the perfectionist's way. However there was never a valid reason behind this spontaneous decision.

"Jenny, darling?" a soft voice followed by a knock on the door was heard ever so faintly in Nyx's dreams. She rolled over and muttered a 'come in' greeting into her pillow. Odessia had opened the door slowly and graced her way to Nyx's bed. She turned towards Odessia, the light hurting her eyes. Nyx felt guilty to hear that Odessia has been lying to her; but doing it accidentally all because of payback, but either way she was happy to see her. This day Odessia was wearing a lacy-layery white dress; it was very flowy and almost ghost like if it weren't for the roses woven in at the seams. It made her hair and eyes stand out despite them holding the same dusty color. She was wearing a crème hat instead of a hooded-cloak to match the dress; the had being just as floral as the dress. She looked sophisticated and dainty, however still wise and collected at the same time. Nyx stood up and stretched.

"Good morning, Miss. Issor!" she yawned, stretching her numb limbs. The bed had really made her back ache.

"Have you not slept well?" Odessia tilted her head, concerned of Nyx's state.
"Huh? Oh, no! I've slept beyond fine!" she laughed slightly. Odessia didn't fall for it and approached her rather sternly, grabbing her face to take a closer look; rubbing a finger to her under eye, then two fingers together.

"Hmm…definitely not make up. Why do you have those extremely dark circles around your eyes?" she interrogated, "Did you sneak out or pull an all-nighter, young lady?" the more this moment had stretched, the more was Nyx wishing Janine was here. She wouldn't have questioned her for the way she had spent her night, but rather mixed up a potion that would wake her up. Nyx just shook her head, deciding to keep the precious little memory from last night all to herself.

"Not that I can recall! I slept fine and dandy, thank you very much!" she declared jumping up with a sudden jolt of energy.

"I sure hope it's me seeing things because your journey back isn't something that will be supported by a lack of sleep that severe." Odessia had walked out of the room ahead of Nyx and had disappeared into the kitchen most likely. She continued her way down the mushy steps to the exactly as mushy living room, to find the table in its regular levitating position with Jones perched onto a pillow, leaning into his elbows, bent over a cup. He was cupping his head in his hands in a form of frustration Nyx had never seen on him before. She took her seat and joined him promptly. Her first instinct was to take one of his hands.

"Hey…" she said gently, "are you alright?" Jones almost lost his balance in surprise.

"Ny- erm…Jenny!" he exclaimed, with a hint of cringe in his face. "I was just…um…I didn't sleep very well last night." He muttered. Nyx raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely." He pulled his hand away gently and used it to take a long sip of his coffee, "I've been thinking, that you're gonna probably wish to remember our journey."

"Why, I wouldn't forget this for the world, Jones! I'll always remember it!"

"No, child, that's not what I meant," he chuckled, "I was willing to pass by a magic store since Odessia is also visiting the town today. Perhaps you can find yourself a useful souvenir for further travel, right?" he smiled. Nyx nodded,
"That would be very nice!" The clinking of metalling silverware, trays and bowls was hear down the hall, and was soon matched to the image of the busy-looking-Odessia, which wasn't breaking news to either of them. She clumsily managed to set the tray on the table, lifting up the carved metal covers to release the heat from a batch of fresh-looking lavender bagels with a side of white sauce Nyx did not recognize. What she did recognize was the hunger that somehow went by unnoticeable for this whole time. She helped herself to two larger ones, smoldering them with cream that melted through the bun in an almost sizzling way. She consumed her breakfast very animalically, trying to gulp down the heavy stares of disapproval of table manners she was being shot by Odessia along with her food. Odessia eventually cleared her throat.
"I can see you are enjoying them very much." She said flatly, but then gave n and chuckled, "Jenny what pains you? It looks as if you have never seen food in all your life!" she exclaimed and turned to Jones who was helplessly smiling as well. "does she do that a lot Jones?"

"For all I can say, this young lady sure has a big appetite!" Nyx was cringing the more the talked about her.

"It's not my fault I always run into good food!" she protested.

"Why thank you, Jennifer. That was a very heartfelt compliment. I really do my best to keep the spices normal and separate from the ones I use in potions and whatnot."

"Isn't potion-making and cooking the same thing, Odessia?" Jones questioned, and was soon playfully stuck on the back of his head by Odessia.

"Jones Arthur Brook! How dare you make such an inconsiderable statement!" she mocked being angry, "Of course cooking and potion making are two subjects of their own. That is, unless you are a mutant who enjoys to eat mixtures like eye of the newt and cinnamon." She chuckled, "that's always a good stereotype for witchcraft." She explained to Nyx, who eventually nodded at her little reference. Their breakfast had lasted longer than Nyx had slept and almost turned into a brunch if it wasn't for Jones' irresponsibleness to keep an eye on the clock.

"Are you really that eager to leave, Jones? Makes me feel like a bad hostess, you know?" Odessia pouted, looking up at him with her chin tilted down.

"Odessia, you know very well how much of a daring doll you are," Jones picked up her delicate laced hand and pecked it almost half-heartedly, "But you must understand that we need to go home. I have to record Jenny into my records in order for us to pursue our further investigations and…"
"We have so many towns to explore!" Nyx butted in, almost pulling Jones out.

"You do go ahead then. If you really wish to head to town this early in the day, I don't blame you. There's a great magic shop down by the clock tower; I overheard you two wanting to go check that out." She was already ushering them out.

"You take care of yourself, Odessia. We need you around here and you know that." Jones said firmly.

"You think I'm just a scrawny old lady, now don't ya?" she pushed him slightly, "I'll show you, Jones Arthur, I'll show you alright!" she laughed meticulously closing the door, leaving Nyx and Jones to exchanged confused glances and shrugs.

"Is she…" Nyx trailed off, scared that maybe Odessia has hearing as sharp as Ashton.

"Mental?" Jones smiled, "Kind of. But that's normal." He shrugged, putting a hand around her back to slightly maneuver her to the right path.

"Kind of? How is that normal?"
"When you got too into witchcraft, child," Jones sighed, tossing his hands into his pockets, "one does get slightly crazy from getting 'in too deep' so to speak" he explained as they hiked down the winding hill together.

"In too deep?" Nyx cursed herself inside her head for not asking Janine how she got 'intoxicated', because now she knew for sure that the whole truth wasn't being spoken.

"Never mind that, Jenny, Odessia's just old. Let's check out that magic shop she had intended for us to try." Jones pointed at the clock tower and to a shop titled Okley's Mirth Emporium. Instead of wands or dresses or hats displayed in wiry mannequins in the shop window, there were shelves and shelves of jars with suspicious ingredients. Nyx was sure to have seen one filled with eyes and one filled with ears. She wrinkled her nose at the strange smell of dusty wood as her boots trampled against the creaky flooring. The shop was clearly divided into 'professional witches only' and 'tourists', without needing any labels. She saw a shelf of enchanted comics, five wand designs; each one more generic-looking than the other. The particles of dust were visible in every place the sun got a chance to send a ray in. Nyx was getting anxious with the noises behind a velvet courtain at the back of the shop.

"Jones….?" She whispered, "remember that time you said that Odessia was a little…off?" she laughs nervously.

"Why, yes."

"Isn't this a little suspicious for you?" she empathized on the word little. Jones wrinkled his nose. Then, with one look to the side his eyes widen and he smiles. "would you look at that…" he spoke softly, approaching a shelf and picking up a glittery ball.

"What's that, Jones?" She looked over his shoulder. He shook the ball a couple times; it chimed as if it was attached to one million bells.

"I haven't seen one of these since I was in my early teens!" he cheered, then presented it to Nyx. "This may look like a silly little toy to you, but really it's what helped us ace multiple choice questions. Have you ever heard of a magic 8-ball, Jenny?" she nodded, remembering how Crystal used to use one of those as a silly sleepover game, or even between Nyx and herself. "These are somewhat like them only they aren't limited to just yes or no questions. They can answer absolutely any type of question you impose them and they do it detailed as well. As if answering wasn't enough!" he laughed and slapped his thigh as if it was the funniest thing in existence. "You can only buy these in magic towns like this one and being very cheap, they usually have a 20-question limit. It's as if you have your own pocket Odessia!" he grinned handing Nyx one. It felt like jelly in her hand, the glitter floating around the transparent gook randomly. The fact that it was warm grossed her out even more. She almost dropped it, but hesitant, she caught the squishy material again. She shook it, curious now, but nothing got displayed on the screen. "You have to purchase it in order for it to work." Jones explained. "Would you like one? It's helpful and you can keep them afterwards as a memory. Plus, they fit to the shape of anything; and they don't always remain this gooky." He chuckled.

"I…um…" Nyx stuttered, "I'll go look some more."

"Jenny. It can tell you the truth, child!" Jones insisted. Nyx sighed, rolling her eyes, but once again falling for his gallant charm.

"Fine. I'll get one of those." She approached the counter. They stood around awkwardly and waited for someone to come and take their money. Jones cleared his throat a couple of times in impatience. Suddenly, a shadow behind the velvet curtain morphed and pushed through. A hunched looking man, beholding the stereotypical features of a goblin; green-ish skin, numerous warts and the lot. He put his hands, folded together on the counter and sat his fat self on the comfy chair.

"How can I help you?" his voice was as rotten as his teeth.

"Good day, sir, I would like to purchase these two watch putties and one of these." Jones puts the balls onto the table and leans across the counter to grab two lollipop-looking tings. He had refused to let Jenny pay once again, which made her blush, naturally. He handed back the items in a brown tote bag and grumbled a half-hearted thanks for shopping. His hands were worn out and his nails were so rotten, worms would have an easy time living underneath them. If they weren't already. Nyx wondered if that was because of a curse he couldn't get out of. Halfway back to Masonville they had been spent in silence, apart from the crowd and the merchants luring everyone in with offers. Jones decided to take a way Nyx has not recognized before and Jones seemed to be going on it rather persistently. She felt that if she were to question where they were headed, it would seem like she didn't trust him and she didn't want him to get that idea. She smiled instead, and tried to walk closer by his side, a little nervous herself as the crowds became smaller and smaller, the population of trees bigger and bigger. Soon they were wandering through a forest.

"Is this the Everfree?" was the one thing Nyx thought was appropriate enough to question.

"Not quite, love, it is a forest that has not been named yet. It is very similar to the Everfree, landscape wise, but it's the only forest that I enjoy wandering, without that terrible energy that turns me into someone who I'm not." He grinned at Nyx. She smiled back, then looking around in the same awe she was viewing Masonville and Lizton with.

"I think I've found my new favorite forest!" she laughed. They stepped over various tree roots and vines for quite a while, it relating to the obstacle course of avoiding crowds very soon.

"Jenny I don't want to you worry, now. I took a slight shortcut to get to a town near Masonville I really haven't visited in a long time. That magic shop sure got me thinking about my early life…" Nyx was more than happy to hear that. Jones seemed to know the best villages anyway, and the fact that she would be learning more about this intriguing character was really putting her high on cloud nine.

"Sounds great!" she smiled. The forest ceased in something that looked like a gate formed by nature with trees. The entrance to this town seemed to be from a narrow alley between two houses. The sudden change in light, though slight, still got her to wince. Her eye's resistance to light got worse and worse by the day. Nyx would swear that fact was true. Looked around, awaiting for something special to occur…though she had felt no special connection with that place. Jones on the other hand was looking around exasperatingly, eyes wide, smile wide, heart wide. He seemed to remember everything; from the buildings to every tile they had stepped on. Nyx didn't find the architecture of the place anything special either; it was a couple steps down from what she had seen in Lizton (without wearing the glasses).The buildings looked in a way magical, but as if they were trying to hard to be pieces of modern architecture. It wasn't a very clean town either. More like the polluted metropolis in Los Angeles than anything, but shrunk in size. She tried to keep a neutral face other than break down all disappointed in all that Jones had made her walk through (ruining her boots in the forest mud) to get to a town that beheld nothing special to her at all. Then again, she'd think to keep her back on track, Jones had helped me all this time, the least I can do is break his happiness. Perhaps this has something to do with his personal quest that he hates discussing… the towns people didn't give them strange glances, but they weren't treating them with the same respect and welcoming spirit as they did with the other tourists. Jones seemed to greet every one of them very politely, however, with little bows and gestures like letting them pass in front. Their clothing style was funny. Of course, the way she was dressed compared to the fashion sense in Lizton were completely opposite things; but even if she were to wear a witches' outfit; out here she would look completely out of place. But Jones seemed to blend in pretty well. Perhaps it was his spirit of not taking in the negatives from society that was making him act so. Probably a profession disorder…Nyx followed next to him less energetically then she had pursued the rest of the journey. Her hands had dug deep into her back pockets, and she was fiddling with the business card Janine had given her. It had already become a more prized possession than her guitar. You can summon me once a month…Nyx wanted more answers. But she knew she couldn't break the rules. She had to tell Jones somehow, but she wasn't exactly sure how to explain the fact that ghosts have the ability to communicate to the living like that. Nyx had learned not to be afraid of those things. But she also learned that being different was bad. Or perhaps not bad; but it never got her anywhere outside the range of the Darrington Inn. That reminded her.

"Jones…? Is there a post office around?" she tugged on Jones' sleeve, who was too distracted with what was going on around him to reply to a simple message as such without some for of action involved.

"Post office, child?" he gazed into her eyes, his happiness reflecting in her bright-greens. Nyx nodded light-headed. "Right this way!" he smiled, taking her hand and veering her through the crowd rather efficiently, reaching a post office that looked a lot like the Darrington Inn's shape. He held the broken glass door open for her without a sign of suspicion. He even selected a postcard for her.
"Thanks!" she beamed, pulling a pen out of the small jar set on the counter and began writing. Dear Rox and Scar, I haven't forgot to write, so don't even worry about it. I really have to visit you guys soon. How's preforming going so far? And have you recorded with Theme yet? I look forward to seeing you guys. She caught Jones watching her from the corner of her eyes and her lovesick smile grew bigger. I've been struck with the best of luck since I left you guys. I met this very….very attractive detective. I think he's into me! That, and we have gone on journeys through magic towns together! I've found out so much more about myself and the only way of sharing this with you guys is if we meet. Until then! Sincerely, Jennifer Ann Cide (aka Harlow)

PS. I've attached this nifty little tool I've purchased in a magic store. Ask it anything and it will give you a detailed answer! But it only lasts for twenty questions, so use it wisely! She pulled the glittery ball from her pocket and placed it into a small box Jones had brought for her to the counter, tucking her postcard into an envelope and printing out the address of the Darrington Inn neatly on the cover, adhering a postal stamp. Jones pushed the small package into the postal box, the money into a box next to it. Nyx didn't recognize the postal system, but Jones looked as if he knew what he was doing.

"You are very good at writing, has anyone ever told you that, love?" he grinned; Nyx giggled.

"Just a letter to some of my friends back in L.A. Can we…can we visit them? They aren't very far away from the bawogas…" she almost pleaded.

"The what-now?"

"The big ass wall of graffiti and stuff!" she said matter-of-factly, happy that she couldn't now talk in code as well and no one would understand.

"Ah. That wall where you portrayed your art?" he chuckled, "Of course we can give them a visit. I do fancy meeting them." A wind so cold that had nothing to do with the atmosphere outside swung the glass door open, shattering it worse and breaking the glass in the display window, pushing Nyx into Jones, shuddering. The flickery neon lights in the post-office had also broken down for some reason. There was a loud, high-pitched static noise around as well. Nyx urged herself to turn towards the door. There, standing in the doorframe, surrounded by electrical lightning, cape fluttering back and face covered by the hat, stood Ashton. Nyx squinted at her as soon as the static noise stopped. She was…growling under her breath.

"Surprise!" she singsonged, putting dark boot in front of the other, sashaying her way over to half of the room. The energy that she had brought it was very against Nyx's liking. She felt her food reach her neck, gagging, Jones' support not helping her this time. Ashton's bright smirk illuminating the room. Nyx fell to the floor, her wings exploding from her back and her claws digging into the floor. She stood up to face Ashton, panting. Somehow, her current morph gave her confidence and power. Just remember, Jenny…I'm always there. A familiar voice rung inside her eyes.

"What have you done?!" Jones demanded, approaching Ashton rapidly. She chuckled evilly.

"Oh, Jones! How protective you have gotten!" she wined at him, "Not going to work on me, baby!" She pulled him in for an unwanted passionate kiss, paralyzing him with the stating running up and down her. Nyx rose up from the ground, closing her eyes. It's gonna be okay… A green force was forming around her clawed hands.

"Enough, Ashton!" she screamed, pointing a sharp finger at her, a ray of bright green shooting out of it, breaking the chains of static and tossing Ashton to the floor. Jones shook his head, rubbing the back of his head confused, and then shocked at the situation. Nyx landed onto the floor almost gracefully. "I can handle this. But it can get ugly, so you might want to hide under the counter." She instructed Jones. Even her voice sounded differently. Jones obeyed…half of her command, he watched her cautiously, letting half his own morph show up. Ashton threw her hat aside, her messy fire-hair all over the place. She looked to the side spitting a mouthful of blood. She got up, however, looking disturbed at the least.

"Alright, Jenny," she spat, "I see you wanna play that way. Show time." She threw her cape out of the way as well, rubbing her nails onto her red one piece; "Whenever you're ready!" she observed their shine. Nyx charged at her, but as soon as she was about to sink her claws into her neck, she passed through Ashton, who soon appeared casually behind her, levitating delicately, mocking a yawn as if fighting her was so boring. Then when Nyx was looking angrily around for her, Ashton struck from the back, pinning Nyx to the wooden floor, who had eventually swallowed some splinters, digging the heel of her boot into her back. Nyx screamed, pushing herself back up with power, enough to push Ashton off anyway. As soon as she turned around rapidly to slice her curves in half, Ashton had skillfully caught both of her claws by the wrist, and tazered both of them, letting them go all shaky and uncontrollable. She sent another paralization ray in Jones' direction and returned to Nyx, summer saulting and nailing her to the floor once more rapidly, a sharp heel landing in Nyx's mouth this time, digging into her throat.

"I told you, you don't really want to mess with me!" she let more blood trickle down on Nyx's face, who was squirming underneath her, not being able to breathe so well. Ashton put her gloved hands together, pulling them apart with a large ball of energy between them, growing larger, casting shadows of fire across Nyx's face. She was almost crying, as it got closer to her. "Time do pay for your betrayal you annoying little basta-" suddenly Aston's head began bleeding, slowly as honey at first, then quickly. She collapsed back fast.

"Show's over motherfucker. " Rox jammed her fist onto Ashton's skull, two red eyes popping out, dangling on either side of her bleeding skull useless.

"Harlow!" Scar rushed up to Nyx and stood her up with a hug. Her wings had long disappeared, along with her other features. She had never been so glad to see one since she had met Crystal in the park. She threw her arms around Scar, breaking down into tears.

"Vampy!" Rox chuckled, fist-bumping her. The lighting in the room changed, Theme rushed in holding a pink pistol down at her side.

"Did I hit her?" seeing Ashton sprawled in that position that looked anything but alive made Theme beam with pride.

"Nice shot Themie!" Scar jumped up and down, starting a group hug, a rather disturbing one, over Ashton's corpse.

"You guys! Ashton had…she had paralyzed Jones!" she pointed at Jones' frozen position.

"Nice bait, girl! Is it hot in here or is it just him?" Theme gushed, and Nyx cringed.

"We aren't actually an item…but how are we gonna unfreeze him?"

"That's easy!" Theme smiled, pointed her hands in peace signs towards him, the pink power shooting from her fingers quicker than a bullet. Jones awoke immediately, and they all stared in awe at Theme's advanced spell. "What? I can break a spell every twenty years." Theme explained, casually, "Hmmm" she thought, "probably shouldn't have wasted it."

"Jones!" Nyx rushed up to him and held the hug for a long time.

"I'm impressed, child! You took that criminal down as easily as your mother would." He smiled. Nyx winked, then glanced back at her friends.
"Actually, Jones, it was Theme over here who shot her. I was pinned to my death until they got here, but letters do travel quicker than I thought."

"Oh? Are these the residents of the Darrington Inn?"

"Official music producer and radio host, Theme Song, at your service!" Theme approached him quickly, handing him a business card, motioning for him to call her. He chuckled, Rox rolling her eyes.

"That's our Theme!" Nyx smiled, "the biggest flirt you'll ever meet. And that?" she pointed at Rox, "She's Rox, and really she's the blade here. You're just paper, okay?" Jones waved shyly at Rox who nodded curtly at him.

"Hi detective Jones!" Scar waved all giggly, "I'm Scar, remember me?" Jones nodded with a sigh,

"How could one possibly forget you, Scarlet."

"Remember her?" Nyx raised an eyebrow.

"This young lady had run away from home. Her parents had hired no one but me to find her, but the child really did have problems. It was me who introduced her to the Darrington Inn, knowing that she will prosper better there." He grinned at her, "good to see you all grown up, 'Scar'!"

"The world is so small sometimes…" Nyx shook her head slowly.

"Are we seriously having emotional conversations over a corpse, you guys?" Rox crossed her arms.

"Oh, well this is one grim way to put it. I brought Jenny here because I have a home in the area. Perhaps there would be a better place for discussions." Jones suggested.

"That would be best." Theme looked around her haughty looks almost weary, "The cops will be wanting to find out what happened after they heard that gunshot…" they all seemed to strongly agree upon that statement, and ushered themselves out the door within seconds. Jones' home was this time, a real house; with a small front lawn and the lot. It was slightly bigger than the one in Los Angeles; almost like a weekend home. Inside, the British architecture was lost, and it looked just like the other houses in the town; a mixture between modern architecture and something rural. It was the type of house with the living room on the bottom floor and stairs leading to the bedroom. By the looks of it; Jones had not set foot inside it for quite a while. Hints of cobwebs were hanging from every other corner and the leather furniture was still covered in some form of plastic wrap. They all pulled off the loud covers, piling them up into one large ball of plastic; collapsing in the surprisingly comfortable couches.

"Once again, Jones, your place is so amazing!" Nyx exclaimed, Jones winked meekly,

"This was my first home. I grew up here so to speak." He explained, "ever since I moved to Los Angeles, I haven't had the chance to ever visit; even on those long journeys I preferred staying in Masonville for the night. Homesickness does conquer all though."

"Right." Rox was clearly wanting to get straight into business, as she was leaning in and folding her hands and squinting at everyone like a lawyer in court. All the attention, naturally, went to her. "What the hell happened, vampy?" she referred to Nyx, who eventually tilted her head. "What did you find out?"

"Yeah! You never wrote!" Rox pouted,

"And rumor has it you just gave that criminal your $50,000…" Theme added.

"Long story short, y'all. I give Jones over here all the credit." it was almost as if he'd known her, after all. "Back on the fact that we went on this quest."

"Well duh! We want to hear all about that!" Rox exclaimed.

"Start with the easy questions," Jones glanced at her, sensing her overwhelment, "Who, what, where, why, and how." Her face heated up. She would have to work around what her mother had told her.

"Who." She cleared her throat, "My name is Jennifer Anne Cide, commonly known as Jenny Cide." Rox stifled an aggressive laugh, and Nyx shot her something that looked similar to a glare. "What." She resumed, "I am a warebat. Not a vampire." Scar punched her the air with her fist in victory, chanting 'yes' under her breath. "Where…" she turned to Jones after a while of thinking, "Where what?"

"Where are you from I presume. That would be the best to fit this situation.

"Well since mother is from Lizton, I'll assume I'm from the magical town of Lizton myself. I may be wrong here."

"Mother? You never mentioned her before." Theme murmured.

"Do elaborate." Rox nodded.

"My the knowledge of my mother is limited," she warned, "She had committed suicide." A couple of winces followed. She swallowed, "She was a magic-academy dropout. A complete rebel and…" all these words had stung her tongue to even utter. She knew Janine had done nothing of the sort. Or, at least, nothing so severe of the sort. They were just Odessia's words of revenge. There was no other option, "Due to her un-proper ways, my father is left unknown." She was studying the tips of her boots intently. "According to well-known witch in Lizton, Odessia Issor, my mother was incredibly intoxicated by god-knows-what when I walked into the hut where she mixes her potions. Do note I was seven by then." They were all watching her, ears open; all as hungry for information as Nyx was hungry for alimentation out on the streets a couple days ago. "She got mad for some little thing I have done, and pushed me into a shelf, the bottles on the top collapsing on me. The bat curse had received enough time to enter my blood and release my sudden concussion. It also dyed my hair green. The other bottle was a memory spell." She nodded at Rox's expression; she looked as if she were a schoolgirl who had finally figured out a difficult concept in a subject she was having trouble with. " Yes, Ashton was right about one thing: and that would be the fact that I did have a memory spell cast upon me. But that was simply obvious. Anyways, I'm surprised you all had recognized me! When I finally put soap in contact with my hair for one of the first times, all this green gook started dripping leaving me with this!" she almost laughed, "How normal is that!"

"Not a bad look for you, girlfriend!" Theme smirked, "I do have to say, the whole green-hair thing? You were scaring the other gender away more than attracting them. But now…that luscious color of brown; it fits you so amaz-"

"Thanks Theme…"she cringed, "But how did you even recognize me? Even Jones had trouble figuring out just who in the world had entered our hotel room!" Rox raised an eyebrow, but Scar had been right ahead of her.
"Well, how many bat-people do you find, being pinned down by an obnoxious so-called witch in a broken down post office?"

"You gotta admire the child's talent. It really does hurt not to have you as a partner in crime fighting anymore, miss Scarlet." Jones said.

"Don't worry Jones, what's good comes in small doses." She smirked. For the second time, the insane Scar Nyx had grown familiar to, became wiser than anyone.

"That statement is damn right. You all should just let Scar do all the work in instances like this, no?" Rox rolled her eyes.

"She's as capable of solving mysteries as being careful of how much she drinks."

"I'd really like to say something in my defense here!" Scar protested, then smiled sheepishly at Jones, giving off a sweet shrug, "but I can't."

"We were at 'when'." Theme broke the fight.

"Well since this really can't adhere to our situation and I have already answered 'why' as well as 'how'…I guess you guys know as much about me as I do myself!" Nyx laughed nervously. They all nodded in satisfaction.

"So. How are you ladies planning of sleeping tonight?" Jones got up from the sofa-chair.

"If there's no space, I wouldn't mind sharing a bed…" Theme cooed. Jones almost shuddered, but denied politely.

"Well, how many rooms are available?" Rox reflected is movement and rose up as well.

"We were four kids in the family. The girls shared a room and the guys shared a room. I reckon you are fine with sharing a room?"

"Absolutely!" Nyx said quickly, before Theme can elaborate on any other ideas and plans.

"Scar, you're sleeping with Theme, Vampy sleeps with me. Clear?" Rox said. Nyx liked the fact that despite Rox being older then them, and very mother-like at times, she most of the times fell under the big sister stereotype. They nodded curtly, like in the army, and trampled up the steps, leaving Jones to slink back into his chair and lounge, wallowing in the leisure and nostalgia surrounding him.

"Ooh! Maybe I should take a shower too! Do you think I'm half animal?" and…wise Scar was nowhere to be found. Nyx smiled, rolling her eyes.

"Wouldn't want to mess up the beautiful red you already have got in there." Scar shook it off,

"It's not fake, Harlow. It's my natural hair color, believe it or not." She fluffed slightly.

"So is mine!" Theme piped in, adjusting her hot-pink low pigtails. One thing she had noticed about Theme was that she always dressed for the occasion; in a skimpy, pink and girly version of that specific character. Today she was dressed like a gangster; a pinstripe light pink suit, with a skirt so short you could see her pink pistol hanging tight in a belt strapped around her upper thigh, her shoes being a pair of black-and-pink brass knuckle heels; her look was complete with a small top hat. Somehow, if someone else had attempted to pull off this sort of outfit they would look tarty and very unpleasant. Theme on the other hand? She gave a playful spin to it. Perhaps getting into character was what helped her best with handling situations. What was also disturbing was the fact that she had killed Ashton. Yes, one might understand that Ashton was a criminal, and she had deserved all this, but Theme wasn't even the slightest stirred by the fact that she had committed murder. Like a real gangster. The night before had added heavy weight to Nyx's journey, and staying up too long to respond to all of Rox's strict interrogations was an ability becoming more out of reach for Nyx the more the night continued to fall. The rooms weren't large, but again weren't small. The wall dented in diagonally; the roof of the house having being built low, but other than that, only the beds (which surprisingly still had bedding on them) occupied the space in the room. Theme and Scar next door, though, were doing absolutely everything but sleeping. Wherever Theme went, the music went with her. Wherever Scar went; the party followed. It sounded like there were other people in the room, though clearly they were only Scar and Theme. Rox grunted and punched the wall a couple times, the wall sounding hollow and giving the feel that if she were to punch it one more time, her fist would break right through and into the other room. It was almost as if she had hit the pause button, because all noise ceased to exist, apart from Janine's soothing words that eased slowly back into Nyx's mind and helped her to sleep.

"Wake up the house is on fire…" Rox singsonged. Nyx shot up from her comfortable sleeping position.

"What?!"

"And the cat's caught in the dryer…" she was dancing around the room; making her bed, cleaning up the cobwebs. Nyx sighed, her shoulders reaching back down from their perked-up position.

"You scared the sleep right out of me, girl." She got up, shaking her head.

"Jesus of Suburbia, can't you take the joke? It's a pretty Green Day outside." Was Rox's reply. Nyx laughed; she missed performing with Death by Dolls, seeing Theme smiling in the judging booth was all they needed to defeat the rest of the bands. "Where's your guitar, Vampy?" she smirked, "Come on…I know you're itching to shred some…"

"I left it back at the Inn, remember?" she laughed, "But check this out!" she mimicked an air guitar; only instead of it being pretend, it did have sound. She played a short but loud solo.

"Dude! That's wack!" Rox clasped her hands to her cheeks in shock.

"It's a spell Miss Issor taught me the other day. Pretty cool, eh?" the fact that her mother was a witch did give Nyx certain characteristics of holding magic that were efficient.

"That's it." Rox crossed her arms, "You are coming back and preforming with us. With that." Nyx shook her head humbly, but then smirked.

"That's not all; I can also switch from electric to acoustic faster than with my old guitar! Did I mention I don't need an amplifier?"

"I hate you." Rox decided and opened the door to the hallway. Nyx chuckled and followed her.

"I can teach you the one for drums if you want. You don't need powers for this spell. You just need to have the music in your blood!" she said the last part very spiritually.

"Did I hear music in your blood?" Theme's head popped out the door of their room so suddenly it almost made them jump. That girl could really make millions working in a haunted house some times.

"Come out y'all! See what Vampy can do!" Rox knocked on the door 'softly' after pushing Theme's energetic face back inside. Scar and Theme immediately came out, as soon as Rox finished her command, to be precise.

"Show us, Har!" Nyx glanced at Rox.

"Only if you promise to try it with me." Rox rolled her eyes,

"Whatever…let's do...hmm whatever you wish. Start us off." Nyx concentrated for a second, and then began her air-guitar strumming. A solo quick, professional, but easy to play. A few faint drumbeats were heard in the background of her small song, followed by an excited sound from Rox, and yet more loud drumbeats. They were literarily playing the air. But they were doing it so well, Theme and Scar were frozen. It even made Jones come up the stair to question where the sound was generating from. They stopped eventually, the last powerful beat causing the vase with putrid flowers resting on the small hallway table shake.

"Jenny! I never knew you could play guitar this well." Jones spoke up first. Nyx blushed deeper than before,

"You should really come to one of our gigs, detective!" Rox grinned.

"I think I have just added that to my agenda!" he grinned back, patting Nyx on her back. Their moment of glory was disturbed by the sound of grumbling coming for Theme's stomach. She immediately covered it in embarrassment.

"Um…are we going to have breakfast?" she asked quietly.

"Well yes. What would you like to eat? I can fix you anything."

"Anything? Jones, this house if filled with cobwebs, I doubt there would be any edible food in the fridge by this time." Nyx protested.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Jones shook his finger at Nyx, singsonging. "Remember those lollipops I have purchased at the magic shop so enthusiastically?" Nyx nodded. "They are called meal-pops. I bought two of them; they equal two large meals of one's choice. The instructions are to speak up what meal you want, then we each have to take a bite, through some technology unknown to myself, that bight fills you up with the taste of the food you desired and fills you up as if you ate the whole meal." Nyx gaped at the lollipops he pulled out of his pocket in awe. "Perfect for traveling!" he winked.

"Are you kidding me? What, is there like, a spell for everything these days?!" Rox picked up the lollipops in disbelief, then shook her head, "magic in the present…unbelievable, I tell you!" Nyx shrugged, smiling,

"Sounds good to me!" Scar giggled,

"Yeah, I don't get why Rox is complaining. It's super-convenient that way. How much were these anyway?" Theme wanted to know.

"Not as expensive as they sound." Jones replied as Rox was unwrapping one.

"Breakfast." She spoke slowly and loudly into the candy, and took a bite out of its cake-ey surface, chewing, then her face being crossed by a very pleased expression; the one, one gets after finally tasting their favorite meal done better than before after a long time. Scar snatched the stick out of her hands rapidly, eagerly. She took a bite herself.

"Yum! Pancakes!" she exclaimed.

"Whatever, Jones, the taste of pancakes that thing generates would have a hard time beating yours!" Nyx grinned, taking the lollipop next and immediately regretting what she had just confessed. Theme took in next,

"Wow! I never knew something else could generate the sweetness of my regular breakfast! Nerds and Pixie Stick dust for the win!" she squealed. No wonder she had so much energy. Rox raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Girl, if you have pure sugar for breakfast, what the hell do you have for lunch and dinner?"

"Um…" Theme brought a finger to her mouth, blinking innocently, "Lunch I usually go for my usual energy dust for soup, for the main course I usually scoff down seven Twinkies, and for desert-"

"Desert?!" they all exclaimed.

"Well duh! I have a whole bag of Hershey's all to myself and wash it all down with some Jolly Rancher soda in blue raspberry, of course!" she laughed.

"Of course you do…" Jones said sympathetically, taking a bit of his own. The lollipop still had some more content left over on the stick.

"You guys gonna eat that?" Rox asked, reaching out to get the stick, but Jones refused to hand it over.
"A bite stands for one full breakfast. It takes about an hour or so for it to function and fill you up. If you eat too much…well who eats two large breakfasts anyway?" he asked. Rox grunted, pouting.

"Alright. Well, you tell the inventor of this that the only way I'm ever buying it again is if you can eat the whole thing at once and not have your stomach pop out or whatnot."

"So are you guys coming back with us?" Nyx asked hopeful, imposing her question as an invitation, more than anything.

"We will kind of have to anyway. Rox refused to the take the bike when we were following you, so you wouldn't notice…" Scar admitted softly, being shot by more visual daggers from Rox. She was so strong, even her looks hurt.
"That was only because I had a feeling Ashton was not going to let you off the hook without paying for her lies." Rox admitted.

"Hey, but it was fun! I shot my first criminal!" Theme cheered. Jones glanced at his watch.
"Well, we really need to get going if we want to get somewhere. It's getting pretty late." Jones said, followed by a harmonic chorus of aw's. They obeyed anyway and started back into Los Angeles. Nyx noticed the change in houses again. Only, it was getting worse by the step. She felt very bad to leave her memories in the towns of magic; locked in their inexistent vortex of mystical deeds. She walked quietly, her expression altering from time to time usually from a short bicker-session between Scar and Rox, or something Theme would say. By the time they have arrived at the Darrington Inn, it the sun was beginning to set; leaving burnt marks of orange on the pink sky. It had been a warm fall. Nyx felt even more pangs of guilt to see them off, even though she knew that she could come by and visit them anytime, even play with them in gigs. She tried not to tear up in from of Rox, and through a lot of self-control, and group hugs it fortunately worked. Then Jones took her hand and led her back to the bawogas in a dream, almost. They went back up to his house, lounging in the living room in no time.

"You know, Jones…" Nyx started.

"No, but I'm about to, Jenny." He replied, she chuckled.
"I'm actually quite tired. Is it alright with you if I head off to bed a little early today?" she wondered.
"Jenny, you are sixteen! I do believe you can make decisions as such by yourself without the aid of an adult. If you'd really want my opinion, I would say that it would be a great idea due to the all-nighter you have pulled back at Odessia's."

"I haven't pulled an all-," she protested.

"Jenny, love, I am an experienced detective. Things like that come naturally to me. It's completely human not to sleep well on all nights." He explained gently, "It is scientifically proven that if you sleep n a new bed it takes a couple of nights for your body to truly receive its rest, after all." Nyx smiled. She admired it when Jones turned one's mistakes and sins into things that seemed pleasant and light to carry. She got up from her spot and bid her good night to Jones, heading to her room. Only…what Jones had told her wasn't right. If one does take more than one night to get used to a bed…why had she slept so well over there? The thought of Jones came to her mind once more. She blushed, gazing outside from her window seat.

"It's also scientifically proven that if one falls asleep with one's loved one, they will sleep deeper and faster." She sighed, a goofy smile spreading across her face. She glanced back at her bed where the red blanket from the first night lay folded neatly on the edge, then, almost scared that Jones would see her stare like that, despite the fact he wasn't even in the room, she returned her look to her window. She pulled Janine's card from her pocket and felt its corners and edges. One thing the had omitted from their limited and quite brief time they have spend together, was of course, her feelings for Jones. She omitted them to everyone but herself, eventually. They have been growing deeper every day. An edge of something glistening in the moonlight caught her eye. She tilted her head, and squinted past her own the reflection into the outdoors. She heard a couple of recognizable footsteps…though outside, and they sounded as if their owner was climbing. She creaked her window open, and cautiously stepped outside on the piece of roof available ahead of her balcony. She looked around, hearing closely. A ladder was glued to the side of the house to the right; fastened tightly by metal clamps. She looked up to where it led; the exact perfection of the top of the room. She shrugged, wondering how she had never noticed it before. She concentrated for a second, receiving her wings as painlessly as if her mother had granted them. She stretched them out, fluttering upward gently, a smile spreading on her face; the adrenalin of curiosity was making this better for her. It took her a while to reach the top, since Nyx was doing her best to savor her small moment of flying. Just when she was about to fly above the last edge however, her wings suddenly disappeared against her will. She gasped loudly, letting her fast reflexes urge her bionic arm to hold onto the edge. Just a look down made her insides moan in the swelling the vertigo was causing.

"Jenny?" Jones called into the dark, the footsteps approaching the ledge quickly. "Dear god, Jennifer!" he exclaimed, pulling her up quickly, Nyx once again, letting herself be carried up by his powerful arms, pulling him into a hug once her feet were on the ground of the roof.

"What is this place?" she asked, releasing him.

"Well it's the top of the house. Pretty self-explanatory, is it not?" he chuckled, placing a hand on Nyx's head to brush her bangs out of her eyes. Nyx shivered almost.

"What are you doing out here, then?" she asked him softly.

"What are you doing here? I thought you're tired." He retorted, crossing his arms and squinting at her suspiciously. Nyx cringed, laughing nervously and looked down at the floor, tracing a crack in the roof with the tip of her boot.

"I heard you climbing up here and…" she mumbled, "I was just curious to see where you were going…"

"I always come up here, love. Cures my insomnia." He explained and sat down on the ledge. Nyx sat down next to him, the situation reminding her of Janine very sharply.

"Jones?" she remembered she still had the card tucked inside her glove.

"Yes, Jen?"

"I didn't actually pull an all-nighter at Odessia's…" she said softly.

"I know you didn't, love. You told me so." He gently placed a hand over hers, and she let her head rest on his shoulder, the gap between it and his head was perfect to fit hers.

"No…" she protested, "It wasn't because of comfort issues."

"Then what happened, love?" Jones wondered. A small river of tears formed under Nyx's eyes. She sniffled, pulling out the card. "What's that?" Jones took it from her fingers.

"I found it in a pile of raining glitter in the corner of the room…" she wiped her eyes, "it's from mother…and it only works once a month. Well, I have used that card and I spent the night talking with her…" Jones stiffened, the blood almost freezing in his veins.

"J-Janine?" he muttered. Nyx nodded.

"I know the truth. The way Odessia spoke of her? It was only because of revenge. One would be blind not to notice so."
"Of course…" he seemed to be counting the facts on his fingers, "Of course…"

"I…I just wanted to tell you that."

"No, I understand. It was a wise choice. Odessia would have put her through sever consequences if she found out." He explained.

"How? Do you even know Janine?" she squeaked. Silence.

"Almost too well, my Jennifer…" he admitted. It was Nyx's time to freeze.

"What do you mean?" Jones sighed, but he didn't march forward into answering the question. After a while it seemed to have been combined with the atmosphere and forgotten, anyway. Nyx nuzzled her head into his shoulder again. She could fall asleep like this any time. The cold wind that struck them along with the loud sound of midnight falling made Nyx shiver. "It's getting cold, Jones…" she whispered, "we best be going inside. It's late too." Jones grunted and stood up, pulling Nyx up with him.

"Jenny, we can take the ladder leading to my office, you hear?" he hugged her tightly, "It would be easier to explain everything there." Nyx tilted her head, but did anticipate the answer. She followed him down the ladder carefully, and he helped her through the window. Jones' study was unlike the other rooms in his house. Though there were bookshelves in the living room, books were pretty much the room's form of wallpaper. A cherry wood desk, holding its back to the window had a candle, flickering softly, the hot wax dripping onto the table. A large leather chair was tucked between compartments of the desk; in front of it were two other chairs. Nyx, though, had suddenly lost interest in knowing the answer. In knowing any answer. Her anticipation became as extinct as her ermophobia and her fear of knowing herself. Though she had one goal ahead of her. Jones also deserved to know the truth. She watched him, pace around the room like a tiger in a cage. She had never seen him so stressed before. Maybe it would be a bad idea…she thought, but if not now, then…when? Jones paused, and returned to his desk. He opened up a drawer and rummaged through all the files in his possession, eventually pulling one out on the table (which had a built in light, similar to the one a doctor views the x-rays on) for Nyx to see. It was written in fine print on its brown cover: 'Janine Cide', a picture of her mother smiling tentatively held the file closed with a paper clip. Nyx approached the table, pushing one of the chairs back, and then opening the file cautiously. What she found inside were old news for her. She knew everything about Janine as well. It was anyways mostly what Janine had told her. Jones raked a hand through his hair and resumed pacing around the room. Nyx attempted to keep up with his pacing, until she had him pretty much pinned to a wall. Her current blush dropped a couple shades deeper. She reached her hands forward to lace her fingers through his.

"Hey…" she breathed, "it's alright…I know she's gone. But as long as I can see her once a month for a while is enough for me…really." She smiled, gazing into Jones' deep brown eyes. Jones untangled his fingers from Nyx's and places his hands on her shoulders, grinning back.

"Child…"

"Jones…I really believe you deserve to taste at least a small amount of the truth…" she spoke softly, taking his hands back down from her shoulders, and clasping them with hers again. Jones tilted his head and watched her intently.

"Jenny…" he protested, but Nyx's feelings had never been stronger than now. There was a burning urge inside of her just to lean in and kiss him hard. She looked back into his eyes, realizing that all she had been staring at were his luscious, prefect lips. She bit hers in return,

"Jones I…I…" she stuttered, "I've never felt this way about somebody before…"

"No. Jenny, no." he said sternly, but barley audible. Nyx was acting as if she was drinking her feelings steadily, like Scar during a party. She brought her hands up, slowly wrapping them around his neck. She was leaning in for her most desired kiss slowly, savoring every second of the moment. Jones pushes her back abruptly.

"Jennifer, you don't understand!" he hit his head against the wall behind him in slight frustration.

"But I…I lo-" she couldn't bring herself up to say it. Not because she was nervous…not because she was a coward…not because Jones told her not to. Behind Jones was a certificate, it's dainty frame lit up by its own lights, kind of like a very important painting in an art exposition in a museum. This certificate of declaration is representing… Nyx squinted to read what it said, great dedication in the area of crime fighting, ambitious efficiency in graduating from the regal academy of detectives, as well as further success in the future… Nyx froze as she read on, her eyes were widening by the sentence. Jones was watching her warily, rushing up to her side to follow her gaze. A sickening expression crossed his face when he spotted the certificate himself.

"Jenny…" he tried to pull her eyes away from reading it, tugging at her sleeve, though it might have already been too late. The name 'Jones Arthur Cide' was written boldly in calligraphy on the line of dedication of the certificate.

"Wait…" she whispered, feeling faint herself, "Jones Cide…Jones…Cide…?"she tried to fit the last bits of the puzzle together but no matter how much she turned them, they wouldn't have the perfect fit. "Does that mean that…" Jones nodded almost grimly.

"Yes, Jennifer…" he gulped, "I'm your father."

114