Joyous greetings to you. friends! It is most glorious to see you! Heh… "see"…
Okay, I'll quit "talking" like Starfire…
I am back from my two weeks of perilous doom a.k.a the dreaded Mediterranean cruise… On a brighter note, I found Morocco! Uh, yeah, well, only a few people will know what I am on about here. Basically I have not seen TT Season 5 because British Cartoon Network is lame and probably won't show it for like another year… BUT I do know there is an episode where Robin goes to Morocco. I thought Morocco was in South America for some peculiar reason, had an argument with Quinn and His Quill about it, and it turns out it was in North Africa all along… And I haven't actually been there, but I went to Gibraltar on the cruise, which is also known as "The Last Point in Europe", and it is only SEVEN miles from Africa.
And from the cliffs of it – also know as "The Pillar of Hercules" – you can see Morocco.
So yes, I have found it. I know where it is now. Yay for me, thankyou very much, Elvis has left the building…
Right; new chapter! And stuff actually happens! Stuff that doesn't involve Robin being somebody's whore! Yay!
To:- Phoenix Skyborne (yeah, comfy beds are cool:) And I will be sure to R+R the new chapters of Changes: Nine Months More ASAP!); Seductive Angel (nope, Arella's still alive; this is set in Season TWO, my friend, not Season FOUR. That's how Terra is in it… And hey, I've always been meaning to ask… where exactly did you get the name "Pookie" for Robin?…); YamiTai (glad you liked the chapters, my crazy friend, and I am also glad you like Jonathon:) I'm telling ya, he's the only one with any sense whatsoever… Oh, BTW, you were right; Seth is named after the Egyptian God of Death, but that doesn't exactly make him bad…); Quinn and His Quill (you cannot possibly compare my Seth to your Seth because my Seth says more than four lines and doesn't get knocked out in the seventh paragraph of the story! And he doesn't have to deal with people who lose their swords! And BTW… I found Morocco!); Phasmatis (a new reviewer! Thankyou very much for the kind compliments and don't worry, there will be a helluva lot more RobinxRaven soon enough…); Frostflower (another new reviewer! Yay, I am loved! Thanks for the tip on Arella. I do know what she looks like now but I didn't when I wrote this so copied the 80s New Teen Titans version); Rocky-White Wolf of Curses (jeez, could you have picked a more elaborate name? ;) I am glad that you too like Jonathon Vaughan!); and last but certainly not least, my partner-in-crime… I mean co-writer, Narroch06 (nope, all the senators are not actually necessary, but you can forget about most of them for now. Just focus on Jonathon, Marcus and Seth. Even Arella isn't very important… And as for Robin's demonic possession? They might, as Jonathon said, seem like little kids, but this ain't child's play… You will see…).
Also to other readers/reviewers, including Daybreak25, Aeris-Raven, Thrillzone,Timberfox and any others; this is for you too, my friends! I hope you enjoy it!
Let us allow the curtain to rise…
Echoes in the Darkness
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos…"
Raven sank through the door to Robin's room and straightened up, adjusting her white cloak over her similarly white leotard. It felt right now, to wear white, considering she was home after all this time.
She wasn't supposed to be in here, she knew without the slightest trace of guilt. Marcus had spoken to her alone after Robin had been packed off to the bathroom, and informed her that it would be better if Robin were to be separated from his friends altogether until the demon's grip on him was weakened considerably. The other Teen Titans, Marcus had explained, might influence him to do things he was not supposed to in his present condition. Raven had agreed, and had returned to the left wing quarters of the others to find Beast Boy gone. Cyborg had explained that the shape-shifter had gone to root out Robin and find out the details. Raven had protested and told them of Marcus' assumptions and orders; Starfire had cried about both Robin's dilemma and the fact that she was not allowed to see him.
Raven herself was not sure if the "Turn-Robin-into-a-loner" movement included herself or not, nor did she care. She wanted to see him, to talk to him, and no-one - not Marcus Vandiver, not Jonathon Vaughan, not Seth Elliott - was going to stop her.
She moved silently into the room and made straight for the huge bed. He would be asleep, of course; the huge clock in the entrance hall had informed her that it was quarter past one in the morning. Sure enough she found him sprawled out on his back, sound asleep. She lit the thick church candle at his bedside so that she could see him properly and the first thing that struck her about him was that he looked… well, dead. He was flat out on his back, the red silk sheets tangled at his waist and showing off his bare chest and a little of his boxer shorts. His black hair was all clean and silky across his masked face, his wings spread right out spanning across the entire width of the king-size mattress, and his skin… Raven frowned as she looked at him. Robin was pale, true, but not this pale. He was white, his whole body almost vampiric, his face utterly bloodless. Her mother's assumption was correct; she didn't know how it was possible, but Robin did look Azarathian. She had seen his eyes before, clear crystalline pools of deep azure that matched many of the Azarathians themselves, he had the same type of silky hair and pale skin, and when she looked at one of his wrists she could see the similarity there too; his veins were a very deep blue, extremely delicate and close to the surface of his near-translucent skin. How he could look like one of her own was a mystery when he was so clearly American, so obviously from Earth, but he did.
She sat on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap as she silently watched him sleep. She couldn't help but be worried about him, even though Marcus had informed her that there really was very little to worry about as long as Robin complied with the senate's orders. But now, just looking at him… there was absolutely no colour in his face, and she didn't know if was true, but she got the feeling that if she touched him he wouldn't be warm. But then, if he was cold, he would be dead, an assumption betrayed by the fact that she could see his pale chest rising and falling in regular breathing stance. Growing up in Azarath, she had seen her fair share of people – Azarathians and humans alike – afflicted by demonic possession, some in worse states than others, but none of them had been like this. She put her hand on his forehead and was slightly surprised when she felt how warm he was. She played with his silky hair, tickling his face with it, but he didn't even twitch. She frowned more deeply; Robin was an extremely light sleeper and she knew that even the slightest touch caused him to wake up. Instead he was just lying there like Sleeping Beauty – with a few vast differences – completely dead to the world. She could always try kissing him…
She smiled slightly at that thought, not sure whether to laugh or not. And then, even as she watched him, one of his wings flexed slightly, the fingers of his open right hand twitched a little…
He didn't know why he was there, or how he had even got there. He was waist-deep in a pool, fully-clothed, dry from his ribcage up. His lower half was understandably soaked as it was submerged, his wet cape floating on the clear deep blue surface. His wings fluttered, droplets of water flicking off them. He looked up and saw the tiled ceiling typical of a swimming pool and could smell the chlorine. Looking across the unstill delphinium surface he saw a piece of red paper bobbing up and down. He splashed over to it, getting wetter and wetter until he was nearly up to his neck as the pool deepened. He grabbed hold of the paper and shook off the excess water before turning it over and reading two words;
You're dead.
Instinctively he turned, cried out in shock as he saw Slade diving headlong at him from out of nowhere. Slade smashed into him, sending him under. He scrabbled to the surface and broke it, gasping for breath. Shaking his soaked hair from his eyes he looked around wildly for Slade; he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Slade punched him directly in the face and he tasted blood; then was grabbed around the throat before he could even get his breath. He heard Slade laughing softly at him.
"You're a monster," Slade mocked him. "How can you be the one destined to save the mortal world when you aren't even human?"
Slade let him go again and before he could retaliate the villain had forced a splayed hand over his face and shoved him under the surface. At once he felt the lack of air burning his lungs as he choked and spluttered, struggling desperately but unable to break Slade's grip on him. The surface seemed to be getting further and further away as Slade cruelly held him under and although his retaliation was becoming more and more violent, almost animalistic, he knew that he was going to drown…
Raven's violet eyes widened in disbelief as Robin, completely inanimate under a minute ago, suddenly came back to life, writhing and kicking and clawing at thin air and thrashing his wings. She stood, staring at him, and knew that he was dreaming. Trouble was, he was really freaking out about it. She reached out and caught hold of one of his wrists; immediately, even in his sleep, he grasped hold of her arm with his other hand and dug his fingers in, hurting her. She cried in pain and felt a burning sensation at the back of her mind as she sensed the evil force within him welling up again. She closed her eyes against the blinding pain and saw flashing visions darting at her from the darkness, nothing she could make sense of… Without thinking, without even opening her own eyes, her fingers found his forehead; he was warm, not cold, and she could feel his panicky breathing against the heel of her hand as the sights in her mind became clearer, enabling her to see what he saw…
Drowning.
He knew it, even as he struggled. He was drowning. He was going to die.
Slade was really hurting him, and he was trying to hurt him back, to break his grip, but he wasn't strong enough. He couldn't see anything for the splashing and spraying of water, which was turning crimson even as he thrashed and clawed like the monster he was…
His fighting dwindled. His vision blacked, faded, and he lost consciousness…
…Lost life…
Raven gasped and her eyes opened. She stared down at Robin; he was still again, not moving as before. The red sheets were twisted around his lower thighs now, the hand holding her arm no longer digging in but instead slack. But no longer did he look peaceful. His lips were now tinged blue, as though he really had drowned; there was a thin sheen of sweat across his whole body.
Did Robin always dream these things? Or was it an effect of the demon on his mind?...
She watched how still he was, frowning; there was something not right… Her mind raced as she ran her gaze over his still form again. Still… He was too still…
He wasn't breathing.
It took her a second to process it. He had dreamed that Slade had drowned him, and now he had stopped breathing…
Without thinking she slammed her palms onto his bare chest, pushing upwards against his ribcage. He made a sound halfway between a choke and a gasp and she felt his chest heave beneath her fingers. His eyes snapped open behind his mask and he sat up, coughing. The colour flushed back into his face, across his whole body as she knelt beside the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder. His coughing fit subsided and he looked at her, his face expressionless.
"Hello," he said blandly. Raven simply stared at him.
"Your dream…" She shook her head in despair. "Robin, you almost died. You stopped breathing…"
He seemed nonplussed.
"Really?..." He looked at his lap and frowned. "I… I drowned…"
"Yes… somehow… you really did drown…"
"Yeah…" He put a hand to his chest. "Slade… he…"
"He was holding you under," Raven finished quietly. "I know. In your dream… he killed you…"
"Yeah… but drowning?" He sounded confused. "I don't get it. When I was training to be Batman's partner I was taught some basic psychiatry by Alfred, and dreams like that are often conceived by people who have phobias. You know, people afraid of heights dream of being pushed out of airplanes…"
"And people afraid of water dream of drowning," Raven finished with a nod. "Right. But you aren't afraid of water, are you?"
"No." Robin shook his head, then blew his feathery hair out of his face. "No, I've never had any kind of traumatic experiences involving water. I mean, if anything, you think it would be about falling, because-"
He cut himself off abruptly and looked at his lap again. She knew what he was referring to – his own parents, of course – and didn't push him to complete his sentence.
"Robin, tell me what happened," she said instead. "Can you remember?"
He nodded.
"Yeah… I was in this pool, you know, a real one with tiles and stuff, and I found this red piece of paper floating on the surface, and when I read it, it just said "You're dead" or something…"
"And then what?" Raven pressed.
"Should be obvious. Slade jumped outta nowhere and murdered me. Back in the real world, I would have died if you hadn't slam-dunked me."
"Well, if you want to be crass…"
He shrugged.
"It's true, Raven. I don't know why it happened, why I stopped breathing… Some kind of bodily reaction to the dream, I guess…"
Raven shook her head.
"I don't know either… oh, Robin, what would have happened if I hadn't been in here?"
"I would have died." He looked up at her, his expression unreadable. "You'd be powerless. Slade would have won."
"Robin, don't…"
"You asked." He heaved a sigh and collapsed onto the thick mattress. Raven pulled the red silk sheets back up to his ribcage. He looked briefly at her.
"Thanks…" He stared up at the red hangings above stretching across the four posters of the bed and she saw the silk sheets across his body moving as he shifted beneath them restlessly.
"Robin, do you usually have dreams like that?" Raven asked softly. Again, he looked at her very briefly before answering.
"No. Not… drowning…"
Raven frowned at him.
"But… other things?"
"Mmm."
"Like what, Robin?" Raven pressed. "I'll have to tell Marcus about what happened, and any other dreams you've had might imply some kind of pattern."
"They're not important," he said coldly.
"Yes they are," Raven pressed. "Come on, Robin, anything that could be remotely connected with that dream you just had now. Even… even sex dreams…"
"I don't have sex dreams." He didn't even look at her this time.
Raven snorted in disbelief.
"Alright, now you're lying. Of course you have sex dreams, Robin; you're a sixteen year old boy."
"Ok, fine, I'm lying." He smiled oddly. "I have sex dreams of the most wildly erotic variety, you know those fantasies where you're naked and covered in maple syrup and you have about ten beautiful women all licking it off you- Ouch!"
Raven smacked him over the head with one of his many pillows, interrupting him.
"Alright, very funny," she deadpanned, shoving the pillow back at him. "Robin, be serious; I know you aren't being serious right now."
He sighed heavily.
"Well, apart from my wet and wild sex dreams…"
"You didn't have to imply "wet" there…"
"It goes without saying really, doesn't it?…"
"Thankyou, Mr Tactfulness…"
He grinned to himself.
"I love being a guy…"
"One of the many reasons why I can't stick you…"
"Figures. I'm the guy; I "stick" you."
"Robin!" Raven glared at him, furious, but also confused. Why was he being so blunt? It wasn't like him; for a boy, he was usually pretty tactful about how he phrased stuff.
"Sorry…" His smile dropped to a tight line and he was silent.
"Are you alright?" Raven asked. He nodded, his pale face expressionless once more.
"Dreams, Robin. Real ones."
"They're not important," he said again.
"Robin, they are!" Raven snapped, exasperated. He rolled over so that he had his back to her and she could see the roots of his wings protruding from his shoulder blades.
"I don't want to talk about them," he said icily.
"Robin, you have to tell me…" She put a hand on one of his shoulders and he shrugged her off.
"Don't. I don't want to. I don't want you to tell that senator, and I don't want him to tell this Seth Elliott guy."
"Tell him what?" Raven pushed. "Robin, it's important you tell me. It might be the thing that saves you."
He was quiet for a while.
"I can't." His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"You have to."
"No!" He sat up abruptly and faced her. "I don't have to tell you anything!"
"Robin, if we don't get that demon out of you, you'll die," Raven said icily. "Do you want that?"
"No, but… telling you my dreams isn't going to make any difference. I was having them before I was shot with the arrow."
"You'd be surprised by the prophetic abilities of dreams. Robin, please… you're my friend and I care about you. I don't want you to be hurt by whatever has possessed you. You have to give us every chance of helping you that you can."
He looked at her for a very long time.
"Rape," he said finally, his voice barely audible. He looked away as he said it.
Raven blinked and stared at him, speechless. She had not expected that as his answer.
"Robin… Azar, you mean…?…" She trailed off, horrified. "Robin, you don't mean that, do you?..."
He looked back at her slowly, deliberately.
"And if I do?" He didn't smile. "Raven, I know you figured out what happened in Arkham last week; you all did, bar maybe Starfire. I don't know if you just worked it out yourselves or if Bruce told you… It was part of the prophecy."
Raven sat on the edge of the bed again, not taking her eyes from him.
"What, him raping you?"
His expression flickered slightly.
"Not… not quite. I've explained the prophecy to you before… one of the lines was something like "The world will crumble after the sexual tainting of the soul and subsequent death of the Avenger" or something like that…"
"Sexual tainting? But surely…" Raven gazed at him, a slight frown on her pretty face. "Surely it wasn't implying homosexual rape?"
He flinched a little as she said it and she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't touch."
She removed it wordlessly. He sighed.
"No, it wasn't. I couldn't be a virgin."
Raven blinked.
"But you weren't. We-"
"He didn't know that. So he took it into his own hands."
"And you dream about it?"
He nodded.
"Most nights, yeah. Sex dreams, huh?"
"Robin."
Robin sighed heavily and lay back again.
"It's not always him. Sometimes it's… just a figment of my imagination, but it's always male, it's always horrible and frightening…"
"You always have strange dreams, don't you?"
He actually smiled faintly.
"Yeah, if I'm honest. Prophetic ones about Poison Ivy… at least they seemed prophetic. I dreamt about her right before she came back… And remember when I crashed my R-cycle a few months back? Right before the start of the "Joker Incident", as we dubbed it? And I was in a coma for like, a month or something…? I had one in hospital then, about my parents and the Walk of Fame… I was in a weird state of mind then; I seemed to be able to link everything to Hollywood…"
Raven looked oddly at him and he shrugged.
"…And there've been others, you know? I had one last week sometime about becoming Slade and killing all of you – that was the night I was sick in the bathroom sink and then I yelled at you in the gym; the night before I went off to… Arkham - and then I had this other one I while ago which was pretty much the same thing, but I actually unmasked Slade and when I did he was me… and when I was younger I used to have nightmares about the Joker and about my parents and allsorts… I'm not really big into sleeping, as you can probably guess…"
"You're weird, Robin, you know that?" Raven was shaking her head. "Weird, and haunted."
"Haunted?" He looked at his wings briefly. "In more ways than one, I guess."
"Haunting and possession isn't the same thing, Robin."
"Mm." He closed his masked eyes, suddenly not feeling so good.
"Robin, you aren't going to fall asleep, are you?" Raven asked, a worried edge to her voice.
"Yeah, I think I'll have another wild sex dream…"
"Robin, stop it! This is serious. You might have another reflexive drowning action or something…"
"So I can't sleep ever again?" He opened his eyes again. He wiped his forehead as though he felt hot. "Ok, yeah, sleeping isn't one of my biggest past-times, and I don't need all that much of it, but I still need some."
"I know, just…" Raven sounded frustrated. "Oh, what are we going to do? If you sleep you might stop breathing again…"
He shrugged and closed his masked eyes again.
"Robin!" She shook him roughly.
"I'm awake," he said grouchily. "Quit it!"
She put her hand on his forehead and blinked. He was burning up.
"Don't fall asleep," she told him firmly. "I'm going to get Marcus or one of the other senators."
"No, don't…"
She could see his condition rapidly deteriorating even as she watched him and was confused at why. He had been alright a moment ago; been his usual obnoxious, sarcastic, all-American self. She had seen demonic possession before, but not like this. Robin's body didn't seem to be able to handle it, or was it maybe a different kind of demon to the ones usually found feasting on human souls? Either way, he was in a bad way, first with the overwhelming evil she could sense in him, then the drowning-in-his-sleep-out-of-water, and now some kind of fever. She didn't even want to think about it, but she knew that if the demon – or whatever was possessing him – wasn't exorcised from him soon, Robin would die.
"Robin, please stay awake," Raven pleaded, feeling his wrist for a pulse. "Just for a few minutes more so I can get Marcus or Jonathon…"
He didn't protest this time, but instead put one of his own hands to his hot forehead, pushing his too-long sticky fringe from his eyes.
"Raven… I really don't feel so good…"
"I know…" Raven bit her lip. In the state he was in, she didn't want to leave him on his own. But she knew she couldn't help him by herself. She needed Marcus, Jonathon, her own mother…
I wish Seth was here in Azarath right now…
"Robin, I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise…"
She got up and started to leave.
"Raven! Don't go!" She heard him cry after her. She turned back to him and saw him sitting up slightly, his hand outstretched after her. His masked eyes were wide and his face, now far from the white it had been before, was flushed with colour, advertising the fever he seemed to have contracted within the past two minutes.
He closed his eyes again and his hand found its way back to his sweaty forehead.
"I can taste blood," he said, almost matter-of-factly. Raven cautiously went back to his side, thinking maybe the fever was making him deluded. He looked at her.
"I'm going to be sick," he told her breathlessly. He moaned slightly and she pulled back his covers.
"Alright," she said, feeling as though she herself was in a trance. She offered him her hand and he took it; she could feel how sticky with sweat his fingers were as she helped him up and led him across the soft-carpeted room. She pushed open the bathroom door and he fled for the huge marble sink. She watched his wings open as he was violently sick into the sink, then went to his side.
"You alright?" She asked softly, placing a hand on his back.
"I feel like I'm dying…" he muttered, spitting into the sink.
You are.
"You're going to be fine," Raven assured him.
As long as the demon doesn't kill you before we can get it out of you.
"Sure doesn't feel like it…"
She removed her hand as he bent more deeply over the sink and threw up again.
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" He said breathlessly as he came up again.
"No," Raven said firmly. "I'm sure you feel terrible, but Seth will be able to help you; all of the senate will. Marcus and Jonathon and my mother… they'll save you, Robin, I promise."
He threw up some more and she winced. He probably didn't believe her, not right now when he was chucking up his guts and…
She saw a glimpse of red in the sink and looked wildly up at him. He seemed to be ok for now and she pushed him aside. A lot of it had drained but she could see that the majority of what he was throwing up was… blood…
She looked at him again, horrified. He had acquired a towel and was wiping his mouth on it. She could see smears of crimson on that too.
"Told you I could taste blood," he murmured. He sighed as Raven silently filled a crystal glass with water and handed it to him. He washed out his mouth then drained the rest.
"I feel awful," he muttered. He shivered a little, but judging by the colour still in his face, he was still running a fever.
"You aren't well, Robin. Of course you feel awful."
He backcombed his hair roughly and handed her back the glass. She took it and gestured with it towards the tap.
"Do you want another…"
She trailed off as he found the sink once and was sick all over again. This time she could here him actually choking up the blood and spitting it out and she winced. This was far more than him eating something that hadn't agreed with him. She didn't know why he was throwing up blood along with the contents of his stomach, but she knew it wasn't a good thing.
"Raven… I want you to leave…"
She blinked.
"To get Marcus?" She inquired. "No, I'm not going until you're finished-"
"No," he interrupted. He spat another mouthful of blood into the sink. "No… I want you to go… please, leave…"
"But Robin… why?" Raven was shocked.
His wings fluttered slightly and he looked up at her. There was a trickle of crimson liquid down his chin from his mouth and his masked eyes were narrowed as he looked at her.
"Because I want to hurt you," he reasoned coldly.
She blinked.
"Robin, what do you-"
"Raven, go."
She would not recognize it as a desperate plea, but he could feel something savage overriding his senses. Something evil, something demonic… For the first time his wings truly felt part of him, he could feel the power and the potential in them as though they had always been there, as though he had always been this way. He didn't like Raven standing there and he wanted to hurt her, to kill her even… But there was still enough of Robin left in him to tell her to get out before he turned on her.
Raven took one look at him and knew he meant it. But she also knew that it was not his own feeling and he was instead being manipulated by whatever was inside him. She had to help him fight it off, but couldn't do it alone, and knew that if he felt threatened by her presence it would best if she complied to his wish and left. Provoking him in this savage state was not a brilliant idea.
"Alright," she said softly. "I'll leave…"
And get Marcus and Jonathon…
She took one final look at him and left; as she did so she heard him throw up into the sink once again.
Poor Robin…
He was a pain in the butt sometimes, true, but he didn't ask for these things. Yet trouble just seemed to seek him out; this past couple of months in particular he had been having a hard time of it, first with Poison Ivy, then the whole "Joker Incident", and then… then Slade… and now this…
She found Marcus Vandiver's room as quickly as possible and knocked on his door. He responded almost immediately, still fully-clothed. He was wearing small square reading glasses and removed them as he saw her standing there.
"Lady Raven? Is there a problem?" He inquired, frowning.
"It's Robin," Raven said quickly. "He's throwing up blood and he told me to get out because he wanted to hurt me. You have to come and help him. He's burning up, running some kind of fever, and before that he had a dream about being drowned and he stopped breathing. He's in a bad way, Marcus."
Marcus simply nodded.
"Alright, I'll go to him. You shouldn't have been in his room, but it's just as well you were."
The Vice-Head senator swept past her and strode down the corridor towards the right wing staircase.
"Go and wake Jonathon, and get Michael, James, Lawrence and Zachariah," he said over his shoulder. "If the demon is trying to take over him we may need some back-up."
Raven nodded. It made sense. Jonathon and Marcus were powerful in all aspects of Azarathian magic. James Sinclair and Zachariah Warrix were known as Spellcasters, focusing on offensive types of magic used for fighting such as barriers and telepathy, whereas Michael Shelley and Lawrence Westten were Spellbinders, using magic of a defensive variety such as bodylocks and forcefields. The female senators controlled certain elements and used books and potions instead of inner energy. Her mother Arella was like Robin; human and powerless.
But all of them knew how to kill.
She could only hope they wouldn't have to…
And I will say it again; Elvis has left the building!
Let us replace the word "Elvis" with the words "plotless babbling" and see how we go from there… Yes, we have entered what you might call… not the "Twilight Zone"… Okay, um… "The Land of Major Storylines!". Whoo-hoo! Yes, there are to be little more filler parts, like Robin watching TV, or Beast Boy bitch-slapping said Boy Wonder out of jealousy… :)
Ah, demonic possession; what a plot device. I am most certainly not the first person to use it, and I will most certainly not be the last. I do, however, hope you were not bored by it.
What exactly is going on? All will be revealed… whenever I update. You want me to update, you gotta review. I even accept smiley faces as reviews… I collect them, you see. Some people collect stamps, other people collect butterfly corpses and pin them to their walls, for some odd reason…
I collect reviews.
More fun next time, dudes and dudettes! Slade's back for a miniscule amount of time, and then…
Yes, I wrote a BRAND NEW CHAPTER NOBODY HAS EVER READ! Especially for you guys! All my friends who read the illustrated carbon copy of this last year have NOT read this new chapter, so yay for you! It has involved a lot of construction to the surrounding text, but I think it will be worth it…
Stuff happens in that too.
'Til next time, my duckies!
- RobinRocks xXx