(Hope I get the dialect right for the OC.)

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Although it was among the last of places he'd ever want to be, Mammoth was still certain that there were other locations far more foreboding, not to mention exponentially less hospitable, than the state's metahuman prison. Even maximum security was bearable, to a degree; most of the people there were bendable, as they recognized him as one of the strongest there, if not the strongest, and he was the only one with the nerve to show resistance to the guards, despite the special weaponry they wielded. Sure, he hurt like Hell the next day- he swore those clubs were maces that could take out Cinderblock's knees- but he made the lasting impression that he had the biggest pair out of anyone there, so no one was to mess with him.

The fact that he didn't even get a real trial pissed him off as well; he assumed that it was part of the reason he had so much frustration to take out on the security when he got there. All he basically had to show up for was for them to decide how long they were going to put him away for, which, thankfully, wasn't very long; thanks to the efforts of Jennifer, while she was still part of their little group, her and Seemore managed to clean up their tracks pretty well, and the Titans weren't brought into this one, strangely enough. They had signed some sort of waiver on business of national security, or something. Boy, his and Mike's luck was starting to take a change for the better, considering what it normally was. If things went how they usually would, the two of them would have had every minute detail brought against them, and they'd have each probably gotten a life sentence apiece. Now, the most they had was about thirty months, considering they only took one or two pieces- oh, did he say two? It's a shame nobody noticed the gold and lapis loupe in his ear along with the other rings. As he lay in his bed, sore and bruised, throbbing over most of his body in general, Mammoth smiled spitefully. He wasn't quite as stupid as they thought.

He had a window cell, although the bars were made of a tungsten alloy that he'd have a hard enough time to bend, and even if and when he did manage to do that, the hole would be too small for him to squeeze through. The concrete was reinforced with some kind of fibrous-tempered rebar bullshit, so busting through the walls would be an utter and complete waste of time. He figured Gizmo would be able to whip something up out of the plasticware and figure out the guards' work patterns within the week, and make an escape plan. He painfully rolled over, grunting at the discomfort, but relishing the few rays of sunlight that rolled atop him through the grate in his window. Little time was offered for him to enjoy his relaxation however; from a distance, he could hear the bang-ang-ang-ang-ang-ang-ang of the guards dragging their clubs across the bars of everyone's cells. Stiffly, he rose from his bed with a grumble; nobody shared a cell with him. He guessed that he was arranged into a solitary cell intentionally, because the cells on either side of him both had pairs of prisoners- the couple to his left he was distinctly aware of.

The guard who was whacking about stopped on Mammoth's, although it wasn't because he chose to do so. Mammoth had stepped up to the bars and snatched the club from the man's hand, snapping it between his thumb and forefinger. Apparently, it wasn't among the ones used for the assault yesterday. Growling, he muttered, "We get the point."

The guard, while a bit stunned at how suddenly it was turning into an exciting morning, managed to maintain his better judgment, and without saying a word, drew what resembled a pistol with a large tube instead of a normal barrel. Pulling the trigger, a whistling noise reached Mammoth's ears, and he felt a prick in his chest; looking down, he saw a little syringe, emptied of its contents, and his eyes suddenly began to droop. Before he could even object, Mammoth was on the floor, face first and in a haze, a small line of drool trailing down his cheek. The last he heard before going unconscious was the click of a walkie-talkie and the guard saying, "Yeah, we got a bit of an issue with Baran Flinders, gonna need some back up to drag him back to the infirmary..."

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To have someone possess you, even if it isn't as bad as something like the Gadarene Demoniacs, would still be pretty terrible. The Titans even had to miss the trial for Mammoth and Gizmo because they had something so perilous, so outright dangerous on their hands. Jinx actually was close enough to those biblical possessions, now that they thought about it; there were points when the coral-haired metahuman would seem to go stark-raving mad for a time and throw a fit, and something about the spirit inside made her strong enough to dent Cyborg's armor, which was probably also strong enough to pop standard chain links if she gave them a hard enough tug. According to their observations, the only things that she had yet to do were slice herself open with rocks and viciously guard some family tomb.

The morning after the interrogation was unusually silent, and troublingly awkward. Although nothing came to bother them again that night, none of them could help but worry that Jinx might lose control of the situation and her body, and then freak out over everyone again. For all they knew, the thing inside was a fast learner, and probably knew half of their weaknesses by now- it knew everything that Jinx did already, and was probably able to interpret it umpteen times better than she was, even with her training she'd had at the HIVE. It was almost as though she was at the risk of switching between being an all-new Slade and being herself again. Just being around her was unsettling for most of the group. Particularly for Robin and Raven, as Richard thought of her as the most threatening thing to have entered their Tower next to Raven or Slade himself, and Raven's history brought about many feelings that were darkened by her recent encounter, even with the genuine explanation. They let her sit at the table, and everyone ate their food and drank their coffee and tea without saying anything more than necessary, which was mostly just asking for something to be passed and answering. Garfield had even jumped when Jinx offered him honey for his warm drink. After an awkward pause, she sighed and took her teacup to the couch to sit away from the rest of them.

Although everyone else continued eating, Robin stared intently, looking up from his newspaper with an untouched cup of coffee in his hand. He realized that they were all being a bit too paranoid; even he, the one who would push himself beyond normal human limits to ensure the security of his comrades, thought they were applying too much pressure, and that they should apologize. But... he never could do that. Honestly, at least.

Thankfully, Starfire was the one who saved the day. After downing her vile concoction of mustard, horseradish, and fish paste, she floated to the back of the enormous sofa, propping herself up on her hands and leaning over Jinx's shoulder. "Jennifer, you are not feeling welcome?"

Turning to look at the young alien woman depressingly, Jinx answered, "No, Kori, not really."

"Is it that someone threatens to poison your food if you enter their room again?"

Raven choked on her own tea slightly.

"Nah."

"Of course! It is that the underarm of Beast Boy has acquired a repulsive stench, and it is fairly intimidating," Starfire put forth.

Before Beast Boy could voice his objection, Jinx smiled and said, "No, it's not that. He does need to shower, though."

Screwing her face in an effort to come up with what could be bugging her friend so badly, Starfire finally came to a conclusion after ten seconds of what looked like her trying to make her head explode. "Then it must be that you believe us all to be lunatics and serial rapists and are under the impression that we have kidnapped you and hold you prisoner, so you avoid us at any moment you get!"

There was a pause, as those words that had just come out of Starfire's mouth sunk into Jinx's brain, along with everyone else's at the table. It was about four seconds after the dead silence that Jinx burst into laughter, an uncontrollable cackle that resounded throughout the entire building. Soon, Cyborg, then Beast Boy, then Robin followed in the merry mirth. Raven merely smiled. Starfire looked utterly confounded. "What is so humorous?" she asked.

Barely able to convince her lungs that breathing was a good idea, Jinx managed to wheeze, "Kori... you don't know... just how backwards... you are!"

"Backwards?" Starfire turned her head over her shoulder, still floating and turning in a full circle before facing Jinx again. "I am afraid I do not understand, Friend Jennifer."

Snorting, and then calming herself enough to speak clearly, although her trademark Cheshire grin decorated her face, Jinx clarified, "If anything, it's more that everyone else is more afraid that I'll do something to them, Star. I would be closer to being the rapist than any of you guys."

As those words came from her mouth, Jinx suddenly didn't feel so giddy anymore, as though each syllable had its own bitter, unsavory tasting residue to leave on the very tip of her tongue. The thought struck her again that she was indeed very dangerous, and was being held here for more than just her own safety. It made the pit of her stomach twist itself into unthinkably complicated and painful knots; at least, that was how she visualized it, considering how it felt. Considering the silence that befell the rest of the room, it seemed they had all come to the same conclusion and held similar feelings towards the situation. Beast Boy slouched his shoulders and looked to the linoleum floor, kicking his feet depressingly. "Whoa... total buzzkill..."

Setting down the newspaper, Robin changed the subject sharply. "I'd say it's about time to head into the training room. We've always got to stay in top shape, you know. Also, it would give us a chance to see just what's up with Jinx and whatever's in the stone around her neck." Everyone except for Jinx and Raven nodded, Raven merely keeping her neutral expression and Jinx looking slightly worried, as she recognized this for what it was: testing.

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"Alright, everyone who's got anything fragile is wearing the armor they need, right?"

Nearly everyone was wearing some sort of impractically strong armor for the sake of their own protection. Beast Boy had a vest that would stretch and conform to his body as he changed, if only to a certain extent. Cyborg had nanotube fibers under carbon steel plating; that night hadn't been forgotten. And Robin himself wore something that looked like nanotubes and Kevlar, as if he was just making sure. Starfire wore nothing extra, as she matched the excess strength Jinx was bestowed, and Raven considered her powers more than enough to protect herself.

The room was huge, about fifty yards long, forty wide, and the floor was a variety of terrains: everything from a grassy field to a moist dirt road, a forest floor to a sandy beach. In the center was a hill that had a gentle incline, starting out with a convergence of the terrains, and then turning into gravel, and then a small crag at the top. All of the Titans were scattered throughout, Jinx positioned on the far end from Robin. "Try not to take this personally Jinx, but we need to know just what that stone has made you capable of. One of the biggest things we noticed was it made you stronger and more reflexive, and testing it out in here would be the best place we've got," Robin explained.

"Sure, Dick," Jinx replied snidely, placing a hand on her hip as she waited for the signal to start. Robin coughed as though she'd struck a nerve.

"Go!"

Wearing a pair of jeans and a tee herself, Jinx shot forward at Beast Boy, who immediately transformed into a gorilla. Without changing her speed one jot, she elegantly flipped onto the ape's head, from which she made a bounding leap to the gravelly hill. Here Starfire waited, and anticipated the twist that Jinx casually performed. After all, Jinx wasn't trying very hard, and was expecting-

'Foolish girl, bow!'

Her legs suddenly, and quite painfully, shot apart as she bent forward and ducked Starfire's attempt to tackle her to the ground. With a free arm, she even delivered a push that knocked Starfire down, and then kicked the alien, somehow with enough force to fling her behind Beast Boy, who had begun rushing her as a wolf. 'Fist, to thine right!'

And as hard as she could, Jinx punched directly to her right without looking, and felt her knuckles impact a metal plate that was repelled by her blow. A quick glance was all that it took to see Cyborg grinding into the earth. Although her hand throbbed, she ignored it for the moment, and focused on the green lupine that dashed madly at her, making a leap for her chest. Catching his forepaws, Jinx held him back and threw him down, stunning him long enough for her to punt him over the hill. Just as she'd finished this, Jinx had turned to catch the remaining three coming for her, Robin at the peak of the triangle. She ran for them as well, but not in a straight line; she arched in Raven's direction, but was unable to really get anywhere, for as she'd almost gotten to her, Robin threw out a series of smoke bombs. Robin was trained with these, she was sure. Cyborg had the technology, and Raven was able to sense more than just someone's heartbeat. As she began to choke on the foul smoke, Jinx merely stood where she was, and waited for the blows to come. She figured that she was screwed anyway.

'Bend!'

Doing as she was told without even considering what was being told to her, Jinx leaned backwards almost far enough to be in the bridge position, and watched the smoke above her stomach swirl three times: once from a staff, another from a beam, and the last time from a wave of dark force. 'Leap to thine right and kick!'

Obeying explicitly, feeling as though she had no control of her body anyway, Jinx flung herself to the right and made a blind roundhouse that she felt connect with someone's side. Raven. She heard Raven yelp in pain, and although she wanted to stop the session, the force that drove her to kick like that made her continue fighting. As soon as she landed, Jinx charged through the smoke, making a small jump as she drove her knee into Cyborg's lower torso. She had ran so fast that as her joint made contact, Cyborg was the one to bounce off yet again, this time with a ding in his armor. Looking down, as he'd cleared the smoke, he laughed to himself. She actually dinged him, in some of his best armor too.

Finally being left between her and Robin, Jinx skidded to a halt and watched as the smoke cleared. She stood on a mix of pine needles and soft, mossy soil, while he was firmly planted on clay, ochre, and embedded gravel. Whipping out his extendable bo, Robin struck his fighting pose and beckoned Jinx forth with a taunting hand. 'Ignore his lure, the Robin wishes to do naught but draw thee into his trap,' the spirit warned her.

Taking heed, Jinx began to circle instead of running forward, Robin following suit. Their eyes never left contact, the both of them taking each step with such care and intent is was as though they were tigers, judging the last possible moment to leap in at their prey. In fact, they were so focused on each other that, were it not for the warning inside her head, Jinx would have been knocked over by a dirt clod the size of a Volkswagen beetle. Dropping to the floor, she watched Robin jump and clear the lump of clay, just far enough to land in the moist earth and slip, falling face first. Jinx took advantage of the moment and swept her leg in Raven's direction again, hitting nothing, but it gave her the momentum to kick off the ground fluidly and avoid another earthen projectile.

Raven hovered mere inches off of the ground, one hand clutching her side, the other held outward as she attempted to find something to launch in the metahuman's direction. Nothing was coming, and Jinx was rushing as fast as she could in her direction. 'Drive thy heel to her face!' Jinx heard, and she leapt to the air, doing as she was told, a look of desperation on both of their faces as the shoe was about to make contact-

WHAM.

A loud cracking sound was heard as the rock from the center of the training facility was slung into Jinx's body, flinging her from Raven's face to the far end of the arena. The rock stopped and fell to the ground in front of Raven, but the sorceress had not, and at that, she was unconscious and bleeding, completely motionless, save for her shallow breaths. "Jennifer!" Raven gasped.

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His eyes hurt.

His head hurt.

His chest hurt.

Hell, his ass hurt, and he really didn't wanna know why on that one. Feeling a slight pain in his wrists, Mammoth looked down and saw that his hands were shackled, but in a cleverly sinister and effective way: the bands were only low-grade steel, but the bands had sharp spikes built into them that had already pierced his skin. If he so much as twitched a fingertip, they'd dig in deeper, and soon enough, he'd bleed to death. They'd already bled out a little, but nothing worth worrying about. Around him stood what looked like a small army of prison guards, about twenty of them, all armed with those heavy clubs. Now that he could get a better look at what they were, without having them plowing through his face, Mammoth saw that they had the handles, which were already thick enough, accompanied by a hefty striking area that was perfectly rounded and lined with studs that looked like steel turtle shells, giving the things a resemblance to a small kanabō. It was no wonder that they hurt so badly.

The warden of the prison was a tall and foreboding man, and although he was slender, not even Mammoth would dare to make a move against him. There seemed to be something more about him, and that it wouldn't be wise to do anything against his will. Ice blue eyes locked into Mammoth's dark orbs, bare, smooth face resting over his interlocked fingers as he stared intently at the hulking mass of muscle and confusion for a few strained, awkward seconds. His jet black hair slicked back shone in the flourescent lighting as his brow furrowed; Mammoth could feel the sweat drops beading on his forehead while the tension built steadily in the room, the silence only becoming all the more unbearable.

Suddenly shattering that unnerving quiet with his own cool, suave, yet still to-the-point voice, the warden said, "So, Flinders, it has come to my attention that you don't think you've made your point yet."

Mammoth simply raised a brow. His gaze unwavering, the warden stood from his chair and walked over to Mammoth, actually tall enough to look him down, which was fairly impressive, even if he was sitting. "You actually attempted to intimidate a guard? Take his blackjack and snap it, acting like that would impress him? I have each and every one of my guards here armed to the teeth, with enough ammunition and drugs to render unconscious, if not kill, five of you for each of them. Breaking a stick in front of him is not impressive."

At that, Mammoth growled, feeling rather helpless and small at the moment, but trying to still sound strong. At the noise, the warden stopped moving at all, and sharply turned his head in Mammoth's direction, a snarl on his face. "You think you're so tough? You've got nothing, Flinders, freaking nothing!" and at that, he backhanded the immense man so hard that he fell from his chair; the fall made the spikes in the shackles sink further into his wrists.

His world spinning slightly from such a hard impact, Mammoth wondered how such a skinny man made such a devastating blow. He dared not push him any further, should he actually deliver something more substantial. "Lucky for you, you're not under my authority anymore. A very benevolent and generous man came by and paid for your bail. How in the Hell he came up with the money is beyond me, but he got it. In jail one day, and out the next. Nice to see, isn't it?" he spat, as though he had an extremely unpleasant taste on the back of his tongue.

Without even sparing Mammoth another look, he waved off his guards, telling them, "Take off the cuffs, and patch him up. Can't have him looking too bad when he gets picked up," as he sat back down in his chair, looking out the window behind his desk.

The shackles came off with a click and a grunt of pain from Mammoth, and he was lifted from the floor by about five guards, each of them straining to get him up. The infirmary was nearby, and he was soon bandaged properly, leaving only small red dots visible under the layers of gauze. Taken then to the release hall of the prison, chaperoned by pair of armed guards, Mammoth was given a set of clothes that somehow fit him, however tightly, and met with an office woman who simply told him the terms on which he was released. He apparently, in spite of the fact that he was bailed, would still be kept under surveillance, because of his record, among "other legitimate reasons", or so they said. Pshaw. They were just being racist bastards who were afraid of him because he wasn't quite human and was stronger than them.

Taking his papers, Mammoth swaggered back into the hall, feeling free, except around the waist, and took a deep breath as he walked towards the exit. It was when he saw a tall, chiseled man with white hair, one eye, a well kempt goatee and a sinister grin standing at the door, staring at him. It wasn't the man himself, but the air about him that was so eerily familiar, and Mammoth couldn't shake it; it made him want to turn back and have another go at the warden. "Ah, Baran," he didn't say so much as molest when the words fell from his lips, "it's so nice to see you. I'm the one who's going to be watching over you for the next month."

He felt his spine melt into nothingness as the words floated into his ears. Although he didn't remember ever meeting this man, he swore that he must have before, because every instinct his brain had was telling him to run away, to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction of that man. The utter wrongness of just how he sounded, how he felt, made Mammoth want to flee and hide away for a very, very long time. Stepping forward, his smile only stretching ever wider, the man continued in his disturbing voice, "Is something wrong? Perhaps it's because I haven't introduced myself? You may call me Mr. Wilson," extending a hand.

Mammoth looked down at the Mr. Wilson's palm. It looked as though it had seen much use, but he still took fine care of it- scars decorated his skin, but much of it appeared to be soft and supple. Taking hold of it with a great amount of reluctance, Mammoth felt that it did indeed feel soft, but he could tell that it had a certain resilience as well. All it did was make him trust Wilson even less, as it was just all the more strange and therefore more dangerous in Mammoth's eyes.

They parted hands quickly. "Alright then, Baran, let's get going. I've got your only ride, and I'm sure you want to get out of here as soon as you can."

As much as he hated to admit it, Mr. Wilson was right; he had the only practical way out of the joint. Unless he wanted to walk from there to his apartment, which was miles upon miles away, he was stuck. "... Shit."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Reaching the SUV in the parking lot, Mammoth got into the thing, feeling somewhat cramped in the passenger's seat. He simply stared forward, unwilling to look in Mr. Wilson's direction, for fear of seeing something that would make him soil himself. He may have the audacity and power to sway other prisoners to his will, but this wasn't the place to flaunt strength and try to make people think one was tough. Someone as creepy as him was on the list of people not to associate with to any degree. "It's almost a shame that you're so quiet, Baran. No one can always be silent, going through life without making themselves known. Although..." Mr. Wilson said with a stroke to his chin, "silence does have its advantages."

Making a short glance towards Mammoth, raising his brow, Mr. Wilson awaited an answer. "Nothing? Not even another one of your colorful grumbles? Oh, you're no fun at all," he snorted, waving off Mammoth's utter refusal to speak.

The rest of the drive to Mammoth's home was rather uneventful, save the moment that they passed through what Mammoth recognized as the neighborhood that was Jinx's current residence. It wasn't totally run down, but he had to admit that it was pretty ghetto altogether; at least it wasn't the bunch of slums that he and Gizmo lived in. Unexpectedly, Mr. Wilson waved a hand to the left, and told Mammoth, "You know, I have an apartment a few blocks from here. I'll give you my number, and you can stop by if you need any help."

Rather stunned, and somewhat disturbed by the offer, Mammoth confirmed nothing to the man. Mr. Wilson simply laughed softly to himself. As they continued down the avenue, the buildings continued to deteriorate into decrepit, ruinous things, most of them looking either condemned or otherwise unlivable. Finally stopping at one of the more healthy looking constructions, Mr. Wilson stepped from the SUV, and saw what looked to be a metahuman beggar at his feet, covered in ragged clothes and filth. He sniffed distastefully, kicking him out of the way as he walked up to the front door and opened it for Mammoth, letting him in, and taking a look inside himself. At the sight of the mess of gadgets and food wrappers, along with some unidentifiable stench that wafted along the heavy air upon opening the door, Mr. Wilson wrinkled his nose. "Baran, you have got to clean up this place. You can't possibly be this lazy."

Mammoth stepped up to the door with a tired expression. "Don't call me Baran."

A look of surprise suddenly came to Mr. Wilson's face to replace the disgusted expression as he suddenly remembered, "Oh, before I forget Baran, I've gotten you a little gift," reaching into his pocket and drawing out a cell phone as he ignored Mammoth's words altogether. "Don't worry about minutes, and the range is excellent. You can call me from anywhere in Jump City, and a good range out of city limits. You can text as well, if you don't feel like speaking. Here's your charger."

Handing Mammoth all of the parts, Mr. Wilson waved to him as he walked towards the SUV. "I'll see you tomorrow, Baran. We've got to find you a job."

"Don't call me Baran!" Mammoth snarled through gritted teeth.

As Mammoth stepped inside and shut the door, he felt the cell phone vibrate, signaling a text message. Flipping it open to read the message, he saw that it came from Mr. Wilson, and it read: 'WHAT ABOUT MR. FLINDERS?'

Shutting the phone, Mammoth roared as loudly as he could, the roof shaking visibly as he did so, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

(A/N: And yes, i realize this tool longer than I said it would, but I've been having writer's block lately. I've labeled this Romance/Humor for a reason, and I've tried to make some parts of it funny, at least a little.)