There were no oceans on Azarath. There were fountains, baths, and gardens with little ponds in them, but until the day Raven came to Earth she had never seen the ocean. It was completely unlike anything she had ever seen. Unlike those fountains, baths, and little ponds back home, the ocean was dirty, filled with sand, salt, and brine. It had things in it, little swimming things that glided like birds in a liquid sky. It was so different. It was so alive.
For the longest time however, it also terrified her. She had long since gotten over that fear, but back then, when everything was still so new and unusual to her, she struggled to keep that fear in check whenever she flew over the bay. It all went back to the first and last time she ever jumped in. She knew she shouldn't have, but that small part of her, the part of her that usually kept quiet, the part that never spoke its mind, the part that had foolishly told Beast Boy that he was funny all those years ago, wanted to know what it was like to be caressed by those blue waves.
So she jumped.
It was amazing. The temperature changed instantly from a warm summer day to a cold winter night. The water rushed up to meet her, as curious of her as she was of it. It felt along every inch of her skin, every crevice of her body. It was gentle, but knew what it wanted.
At least at first.
Than its desire overwhelmed its concern. It forced its way up her nose and into her mouth. She could taste the salt as it coerced its way down her throat. It takes very little water to begin the drowning process, and once it begins the body takes over. She couldn't move her legs, and her arms were flapping from side to side against her will. Her instincts forced her head back and her eyes opened wide at the wide blue sky she knew she'd never see again. Panicking, her breaths came faster and faster, but since she couldn't get her head above the water that only dragged more seawater into her lungs. With each inhale, her thoughts grew fuzzier and she began to see things: the spires of Azarath, the stern face of Azar, her mother's apparent apathy, four cruel, terrible, yellow eyes. Darkness encroached on the edge of her vision.
"No."
BOOM!
The blast that saved her life looked like a miniature Hiroshima made of pure dark energy. All the water in a ten-foot radius around her was instantly vaporized, and Raven was left vomiting up seawater in a protective sphere of blackness.
Elsewhere, in a place where fire scorched flesh on bodies that could not die, a terrible tyrant smiled to himself. His investment had been saved.
.
.
.
"About time you got here!"
Raven pushed off his arm and tried to force her way through the crowd. Her annoyance radiated off of her in empathic waves as her powers spiked in intensity from the sudden exposure to such a jubilant crowd. Their smiles and laughter felt like a haze of raw emotion and Raven had to focus hard to keep herself from losing control. Garfield's grinning face wasn't helping either.
"Hey, I got you something!"
Garfield produced several plastic bags full of comic books. From the massive assortment he pulled out a thick volume. On the cover Raven could see a bright yellow smiley face with a single drop of blood splattered on its plastic surface. She barely paid attention as she made her way through the crowd and towards the bookstore, with its promised peace and quiet.
The haze grew stronger as the voices of the crowd forced their way through her ears and into her brain. Raw emotion threatened to burst out. She had to get out of here. This wasn't a sea of saltwater, these were people. Vaporize them and she'd do a lot more than just vomit.
"Hey, wait up!"
Just a few more steps and you'll be fine. Raven dearly wished she could just fly or teleport out of here, but it was better not to risk using her powers. She might accidentally levitate some people into the sky with her, or teleport some of the crowd onto the moon or something else terrible.
"Aren't you even going to look?!"
Although maybe she should just teleport Beast Boy onto the moon. No Raven, you need to focus. You're mellow now, remember? Calm, collected, and mellow.
"You know I had to fight off wave after wave of fans to get this copy, right? It's got Alan Moore's signature on it-"
Raven snapped. She whirled around and lashed out with her hand, knocking the object out of Beast Boy's hands. It sailed off into the crowd and Beast Boy could only watch helplessly as the graphic novel was lost in the crowd of feet.
"Rae!"
By the time he turned to confront his fellow Titan she was already gone. He would have gone after her, but he had to save that book! He dived into the fray, searching the pavement with panicking eyes. Morphing into a dachshund he dashed his nimble body into the forest of legs, nose pointed downward as he followed the scent of the book. He almost got to it when a pair of legs in skinny jeans and converse sneakers reached down and grabbed it first.
"Um, excuse me?" he said, morphing back into a human. He was about to ask if he could have his book back when he got a good look at her. Standing at his height, her pale skin contrasted well against her scarlet hair. Every movement she made caused it to flow like the flames of a bonfire, and her green eyes shined similar to his. They even gleamed in the sun like his, only his held the spark of laughter and merriment, while hers glowed with a certain sense of malice. She had a voluptuous body with curves in all the right places and not a single deformity could be seen. Simply put, she was hot. So he responded to her in the way that all inexperienced teenage boy do after suddenly finding themselves in the presence of an incredibly sexy woman.
"Umm, hi. Book. You. Give. Please. Hi?" Garfield found that despite how tongue-tied he was, he could still taste the foot in his mouth.
"That book's a good choice. I especially love how it repeatedly proves how dangerous concentrated power is, particularly in the hands of superheroes."
Garfield didn't hear a word of it. He did however try once again to introduce himself. Shaking his head to clear away the hormones he stretched out his hand and said, in a hopefully confident voice, "Hi, my name's Beast B-err, Garfield."
She smiled, the sun flashing off her pearly whites as she reciprocated the gesture. "Call me Pam."
"Like the cooking spray!" Garfield practically flinched as soon as he heard himself say it. Smooth move, comparing her to an aerosol can of cooking oil.
To Garfield's relief she just laughed. Garfield laughed with her, hoping he could pass off his lameness as a joke. When she was finished she handed the graphic novel back to Garfield.
With a mischievous look bordering on malicious, she gave him a smile that excited every hormone in his body. "You wanna head over to the café and discuss that comic over some coffee?"
Garfield didn't even drink coffee, yet no man on Earth could have resisted the look she was giving him. At least that was the thought which served as his excuse.
He had no idea how right he was.