Supplemental Chapter 1: The Beach Episode

This was quite a surprise. That was the thought on the Regency Academy student body's mind as they awoke on a midweek morning, peered sleepily out of their dorm windows and saw a cavalcade of shuttles awaiting them.

"Good morning, kids," Brannon Phoenix stated. The lithe and lanky giant was letting his glasses hang off his nose due to his morning funk.

"Oi Oi, what's all this then?" Byzantine whistled, leading the pack of apprehensive kids. Despite the bright and early hour, Byz was his usual extravagant self. Always a morning person, that boy.

"Well," Sighed Brannon. This was an idea that had been proposed by the higher-ups. He was all for getting a day off tedious teacher-based paperwork, though he resented the lack of opportunities for study it presented. The general opinion of the Regency governance was that the students had experienced a tragedy, a window of mourning had been observed, and that it was now an appropriate time for some mood-lightening exercises. "We're taking you all on a field trip. A field trip to Brighton beach."

-ONE CAR RIDE LATER-

Brighton had many things to offer a potential visitor. Behind London, it was probably the most buzzing tourist spot in the whole country. There was the historic pier, the sandy beaches, even just exploring the town itself would make for a pleasant day out. In light of the diversity and cultural importance of the city's many attractions, Feldon had stayed up late into the night prior preparing the children an itinerary so they would all get the full experience.

He exited his own car and found nobody else there.

"Brannon?" Feldon asked his riding mate.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Where are the children?"

"I think they left, sire. No time to waste, right? I mean, this heatwave could end at any moment. You gotta get those beach hours in to feel like you got your trip's worth."

"I don't know why I do anything for these brats… I really don't know…"

-MALLORY, SIMON, AND JOHN-

Brighton Palace Pier. A twinkling and majestic beacon of leisure for the country of England. The circus-font signs on the exterior still blinked with those oh so rustic and charming old-timey light bulbs, maintained lovingly to stand up to the passage of time.

"Look at this place!" Mallory exclaimed. She was in a hands-on-hips power pose, her eyes boggling at the tall, light up towers and structures that scraped the sky. She took John's hand, and then slightly hesitantly took Simon's hand, and dragged them forcefully beyond the precipice.

"I don't know why we couldn't have gone to the beach!" Said Simon, trying to be friendly about it.

"I don't like water… And the sand gets in my fur… And-" John stammered.

"Alright, forget I asked!" He laughed. It took them a lot of budging and bustling, especially with John's huge body dragging them down, but eventually, they made it. The pier was even more glorious from the inside. Mallory twirled with glee, and Simon being Simon couldn't help but match her enthusiasm one for one.

"Simon, look! The arcade~" she squeed. The brightest building on the pier, and the only one where the lights inside were probably brighter than the ones outside. John didn't like the look of this. The artificial synthesised sounds rubbed him the wrong way audiovisually. Mallory and Simon seemed ecstatic.

"...John, aren't you coming?" Simon asked. John rubbed his neck graciously.

"Oh, um. I'd rather not. My dad says videogames rot the brain and dull the instincts… Don't worry though! You can go in without me, it's fine!" He stammered, not wanting to be a bother. Shrugging, Simon returned to the task at hand, namely dominating Mallory in a competition of 'last one there's a rotten egg'.

John was alone.

He looked down. The gaps in the wooden planks that made up the floor of the pier looked wider all of a sudden. He saw straight through them to the roiling seawater beneath. He didn't like this one bit. The lion boy's senses perked up as his nervousness increased. He became suddenly aware of all the flashing lights and the churning crowds of noisy people. He looked to and fro, scanning for a quiet place for him to meditate. All that he saw were people staring back at him with a mix of curiosity or fear. This was not good. This was not good at all.

In an effort to calm himself down, John tried to focus in on sounds in specific, hoping to find something therapeutic in among the mess of stressful sounds and sights that were all around him on the busy pier. He focused in on… the crashing of the waves. Nope. That made it worse, actually. Water, ugh. He focused in on… the laughter. Yes, the sounds of happy people having fun. Innocent children, nice old people, Mallory and Simon having fun without him. He did a double-take. Nope, yup, that was definitely those two. He pouted sadly at his second ice cream cone. This field trip was turning out to be a total bust.

Rather than depressed or overloaded, John started to get a little frustrated now. His teeth were bared. Every annoying intrusion into his mind was met with one of a series of increasingly ferocious huffs. This sucked! He hated the beach! He hated sand and the ocean and huge crowds of people staring at him. He hated third-wheeling for Mallory and Simon. I mean, what was that even about? They were all friends, right? What's so special about Simon? Was John just… scary, or something? What a load of bull. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to just go back to his dorm room. What the hell did this even have to do with his hero education! Was he going to… oh… stop a daylight robbery or something? He'd never thought of anything so ridiculous in his life! It actually made him chortle a little bit out loud.

"Stop! Thief!" Shrieked an old woman. "Help! someone?! he has my purse!"

"He has the cash register for my churro stand!" Cried a forty-something Hispanic man.

"The charity box for the orphanage!" Yelled a pimply counter boy in an apron.

"You'll never catch me alive, normie scumbags! Hahaha!" The skinny, six-armed purse snatcher laughed like a supervillain, something he had been practising in the mirror.

"Hey, he took my Rolex!" Said a tall, balding businessman.

"Whatever happened to my comical bag of money?!" Wailed the aristocrat.

"My pet dog!"

"Stop… right there… you're… under arrest…" Panted the corpulent, piggish police constable. He snorted out of his hog's nose, sweating like a… well… you know.

"Fuck you, plod!" cried the robber, breaching a crowd of oblivious bystanders. Like a mole digging through earth, the criminal parted the people around him with a storm of shoving and elbows. "Nobody can stop me now!"

WHAM.

The robber hit someone's back like a ton of bricks. He bounced off the solid wall of muscle like it was a trampoline and hit the deck hard, scattering ill-gotten cash everywhere. The furious thief looked up at the figure who he had slammed into with disdain until he looked a little more. A lion mutant… freakishly tall…

"N-N-No w-w-way…" He shivered. "B-B-B-B-B-B-Baron roar?! Here?! What the hell?!"

The monstrous pro hero didn't even spare the petty criminal a glance. Their anger returned. Was this guy implying that he wasn't even a criminal worth catching? Sure, Baron Roar was a top-five pro, but he himself was a top-class thievery master! He wouldn't stand for this insult to his craft.

"Don't look down on me you son of a bitch! Check this out!" The thief whipped something out of their sweaty trenchcoat. At least one woman in the gathering crowd screamed so hard she fainted. "That's right mister big shot! It's an improvised explosive, rigged to this trigger! Once I press this, a countdown will begin and the whole boardwalk will go up in flames! Hahaha! You'll rue the day you messed with Master Thief 'Deep Pockets'!"

John turned around. Slowly.

"Did you… bump into me…?"

Deep Pockets gulped.

"I m-m-m-might have…" They whimpered. John's eyes were crimson red. The powerful sun cast a thick, deep shadow over their face. They had a booming, growling voice like hot coals. His claws dug into the cones of his two ice creams. He was in no mood for this shit.

"Apologize…"

"I-I-I-I-I-I-"

"NOW!"

John's voice was like a bomb dropping. It shook the foundations of the pier. He roared like a city-destroying beast. Deep Pockets fainted. And pissed their trousers, but mostly they fainted.

"Baron Roar did it! He stopped the villain with just his voice! What a guy, that's why he's top five!"

John snapped out of it.

"Huh, what? No, I'm not Baron Roar… Baron Roar is my father, actually… I… Um…"

Everyone was looking at him now. They hadn't listed to a word he'd said, either. His voice was too low and timid. They all had this congratulatory expression on their faces. Nobody was afraid of him, they loved him!

"Three cheers for Baron Roar! Hip hip hooray!"

"This is all too much… I… Please…"

Suddenly, the limp body of Deep Pockets stirred. 'Click', went the device under one of his sextuple thumbs. 'Beep beep' went the timer on the bomb. Two minutes. Everyone collectively gulped.

"That can't be good. Someone should… do something," John thought.

"Baron Roar! Do something!" Came the cacophony of the crowd.

"Daw' crap."

-BRIGHTON PIER ARCADE-

"...I'm worried about John…" Mallory said. She picked up the machine gun and mowed down a line of the undead. Their soft flesh exploded into rancid viscera as the bullets ripped through them.

"Hmm… why's that?" Simon inquired, tossing a grenade with an overarm pitch. The explosive vaporised yet more ranks of the undead, reducing them to dark smears and then uprooting the foul earth from which they sprung.

"I kinda just abandoned him out there. I hope he's ok…" Mallory took a bite to the ankle and pumped several magnum slugs into the infected's brain in retaliation. She didn't have long left. The pair were being overrun.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's a tough guy after all!" Said Simon before a tide of ghouls tackled him to the floor and eviscerated him mercilessly. Mallory shrugged, not looking very well consoled. Simon frowned. "Though, that doesn't seem to be much assurance to you, huh? You're losing focus!"

"I wanna go check on him…" Said Mallory. She succumbed to the infection and turned into a flesh-hungry enraged cannibal monster.

Game over.

The pair slid their VR goggled off. Arcades sure are advanced these days!

Mallory looked up, trying to stop with her sulking. Her line of sight met with the exit to the arcade, and she saw John! She waved at him frantically to get his attention. Simon joined in, ruffling his eye-catching feathers. It sorta worked. John half waved back at them and then bellowed into the building.

"Uh, I can't talk right now! Gotta run!"

"See, he seems fine to me!" Simon said.

"He looked kinda anxious about something. And what was that he was holding? Maybe I should go talk to him…"

"Ah, that was not nervousness my friend. I know that look anywhere! Those are the eyes of a fellow with agency! He's on a quest! A man on a mission! Perhaps he made his own fun in our absence? Best to leave him be in my opinion." Simon patted Mallory on the shoulder chummily. She blushed.

"O-Okay… I'll take your word for it. Wanna play hoops?"

"I'm great at hoops!"

"Great! Loser gives up their tickets. Showtime!"

-OUTSIDE-

Aha! He would dispose of the bomb over the pier! John raised it over his head and got ready to toss. The water would make perfect insulation for the blast. He only hoped no local fauna would be harmed.

"Papa! Is that Baron Roar? What's he holding?"

"I'm not sure kiddo. Keep an eye on that fishing rod!"

Damn! A father and son were fishing in a boat down below. He'd have to dispose of the bomb elsewhere. John's legs moved like the wind. Aha! He would dispose of the bomb in this uninhabited gift shop!

"Sister, is that Baron Roar?"

"Oh sister, I think it is. Our prayers have been answered! Mister Roar, we're huge fans!"

Goddammit! There were nuns in this gift shop! John hadn't seen them since the shop was so dingy. The low light made the pair's black habits excellent camouflage. He had only wasted precious seconds! Beep… Beep… Beep… The digital clock wound down inexorably. John was moving as fast as his feline legs could carry him, turning on a dime and desperately screaming for the mass of pier-goers to make way. He had a dangerous explosive and people still just wanted to go about their business. What was their problem, did they want to die or something?!

He kept running. There had to be somewhere on this pier that he could get rid of an explosive!

"Veterans meeting… School field trip… That guy's churro stand… Damn it! Wait-"

The cat boy spied a promising position. Aha! This line of drinks and ice cream stalls made a narrow little alley that nobody in their right mind would walk down! Especially with all the bird droppings. John pounced like the alleyway were a gazelle on the African plains and he hadn't eaten in weeks. He hit the ground just short, but he managed to slide the rest of the way.

Skidding to a stop, he had his bomb tossing arm primed like it was he was about to score a game-winning touchdown. Then, he had to stop.

An old lady was here, feeding the baby pigeons. As the bomb ticked down passed ten seconds, all John could find himself doing was scratching his head dumbfoundedly.

"Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb…" He sighed. Beep, Five seconds.

Beep, four.

John threw the thing to the ground in a rage. There was only one thing to do.

Beep, three.

With a heroic cry of effort, John overcame his self-preservation instinct. He closed his eyes and thought about home. Then, he threw himself on top of the bomb.

Beep, two.

Beep, one.

Boom.

Or not…

John opened one eye. He was still on the pier. This was not heaven, he took it. Nor was it hell, and he always imagined limbo looking a bit different. Getting to his knees, he inspected the device. Yup, the timer had run out. No explosion though. He looked at it a little closer. There was the digital clock, obviously. There was a… plastic bag of something… and… wires? Coming out of it… no, wait. These are strings! Was this even a bomb to begin with?

The crowd turned the corner. Everywhere John went on the pier, he appeared to have picked up some more people following him. They looked expectantly at him, crouched over the bomb on the floor as he was playing with the 'wires'. They saw the timer which read zero. One brave child spoke up.

"Baron Roar defused the bomb!"

Everybody cheered. John sighed heavily. He had some explaining to do.

-LATER-

Simon and Mallory exited the arcade. Simon breathed in the fresh open air and stretched his resplendent shoulders. Arcades were fun for a little while, but you couldn't beat being under a big blue sky. Flanking him at close range was Mallory, who was hugging her prize close to the chest. A huge spider. Plush, of course. With velvety black skin and big, shiny sewn on button eyes. It's shaggy legs drooped down almost to the wooden ground of the boardwalk. She had her face buried in its cuddly abdomen. Best. Day. Ever.

"Hey, look! There's John!" Simon exclaimed, leaping and fluttering a foot or so off the ground to get to eye level with him. He had to peer over a large crowd that seemed to have gathered around him. John seemingly noticed them, but he had to give them the universal hand gesture for 'one moment please'. Simon sunk back to the ground like a moulted feather in the breeze. How strange.

"Hey, who's that he's… shaking hands with?" Mallory inquired.

"Congratulations… erm… John Arthur, was it?" Said the mysterious woman who shook John's titanic paw up and down.

"Yes, Richard is my father… You can tell because I have both my eyes, no scars and I'm a foot shorter…"

"Well, regardless... Your service to the city of Brighton and Hove today shall not go unnoticed boy!"

"Thank you… Ms Mayor…" John said glumly. On the inside, he was wondering what he had actually done. I mean, the bomb was a fake and the thief passed out on his own. "Am I gonna get in trouble for doing this without a license? I've only been at school for a week…"

"That's more training than I got!" Said the fat pig cop as he dragged the conked out thief into a stout police car by the chains on his multitudinous handcuffs.

"Did he say 'Ms Mayor'...?" Mallory said out of the side of her mouth. Simon nodded.

"I think he did…"

"Oi, you lot get out of the road! I'm gettin' a picture for the local paper!" A cameraman shoved the two apart and in a flash, John's half-blinking dumbfounded face was immortalised surrounded by an adoring, if a little dopey, crowd.

"I don't like getting my picture taken. Gosh, If my dad finds out about this I'm never gonna hear the end of it…" John thought. And thus, Regency Academy's first successful crime-stopping came to a close. An exciting caper, for sure. Mallory put a finger to her chin. She suddenly got the idea for a brand new play. She was sure that a certain someone would be jumping at the chance to play the hero.

-GINGER AND JONATHEN-

Jonathen and Ginger were taking a leisurely stroll down the back of the beach along a line of technicolour beach boxes. The atmosphere was perfectly relaxing. The sound of the waves and of people having fun in the sun, the smell of the sea spray and the woody pine aroma of the pastel beach boxes. The texture of the sand under their feet. If Jonathan was being perfectly honest with himself, he wasn't not enjoying having another person around, which was startlingly out of character for him.

"You want me to... What?" Said Jonathen. The pair stopped. Jonathen almost dropped his popsicle. On an unrelated note, the boy really didn't like how they called them 'ice lollies' in this country. Something about that name felt off to him. He was gonna stick with what he knew.

Tangent thoughts aside, Jonathen was having a conversation right now and had to pay attention. In fact, he should pay extra attention, because he was sure he couldn't have heard that last part right. Ginger repeated.

"Can you just like, stand in front of me with your back turned? I need to get changed into my swimming suit," She asked. Ah yes, a completely usual request of your bare acquaintance. While Ginger slid past him into the private nook between two beach boxes and the stone wall that separated the beach from the elevated town centre, the boy robotically took a guarding position between her and the rest of the world, trying to fill as much of the narrow passageway as possible with his body.

"Ok, done!" Said Ginger remarkably quickly. Seeing that it was safe to turn around, Jonathen once again met his cohort face to face. The angle of his turning let the sun shine directly into the pair's little nook.

The sun hit her skin just so, and it shone. The peculiar British sun whose power, by some meteorological miracle, persisted long into September even in such a dour climate like the one of England, and all for one seeming purpose. Just to give him a good day.

Her pearlescent complexion was almost glittering in the light spots, with the pinkish and less pale areas giving strong definition to her hard-earned musculature. That pose she was in… she was flexing, but trying to look casual about it. She was showing off but trying her hardest to make it look totally effortless.

Oh yeah, and she was wearing her swimsuit now. Jonathen hadn't noticed because… Well, because she was so bright. It was a two-piece, cuz otherwise, you wouldn't be able to see her abs, and then what would be the point? The colour was a flowing, twisting arrangement of orange and bright yellow, with flecks of red and pink. It was kinda like the swirling pattern of Jupiter's clouds, as odd of a comparison that might seem.

All over it, the suit had pretty frills in a highlighted shade. Ginger couldn't seem to get her hands to stop playing with them, constantly. She seemed stoked just to be able to wear it. The edges of her lips were turned up in a narrow, gremlin-esque grin, making her lightly freckled dimples protrude. When she bounced up and down with hardly contained excitement, the frills danced around like the hem of a dress.

"Well?" Ginger inquired, assuming a new pose. Oh great, Jonathen's popsicle- er... ice lolly was melting. "What do you think?" She assumed another brand new pose, but that one looked a bit stupid so she stopped. Jonathen pursed his lips tight.

"I… wish to decline comment. For professional reasons…" He said eventually, after taking a few moments to gawk. Ginger's cheeks puffed up. Air escaped her nose and soon she doubled over chortling. Jonathen gave her a bit of nervous laughter himself. Then, she punched him in the arm. Chummily, of course. Jonathen was flung a couple of steps back, and his arm ached like it had been snapped in two. He yelped, which made Ginger laugh a little more. He didn't mind, actually. Actually, he was more impressed that his ice lolly had un-melted.

"D-Did you do that?" He asked. Ginger nodded. "I didn't know you could do that," He said, regarding it with a surprising amount of awe. Ginger shrugged.

"I mean, it's breaking apart, right? All I did was reverse it…"

"You made it cold again…" Jonathen said, tasting it. Like it had just come out of the freezer. Ginger had moved on from this topic and was looking out to sea. A cold breeze ran off the waves and reached her hair, disturbing it just so.

"Well, uh, I'm gonna go swim for a bit. What about you?" She said. Jonathen paused between licks of his lolly. He hadn't considered getting in the water himself, but it seemed like a good idea now that she proposed it. He had a swimsuit packed in his over-the-shoulder bag, he would just need to get into it.

He looked into the narrow space between the beach huts that Ginger had taken up and shuffled his way in. This time, Ginger stood between him and any theoretical prying eyes. He unzipped his bag and then he realised what had just happened.

"...Ginger…" He said, preceding cautiously.

"Ya?"

"When you got into your swimsuit did you…? Were you…? I mean, did you take your… you know…?" Jonathen babbled uselessly. Ginger half-turned and gave him a sly look.

"Actually," She began. "I was just wearing this underneath my clothes. Aren't you?"

"What? Then what was the point of turning me around?"

"You want to watch me take my clothes off?" Ginger shrieked, covering her chest up with her burly arms. Steam was practically coming out of Jonathen's ears.

"Hey! Don't get the wrong idea!" He hissed. Ginger giggled at his expense. He simmered down a bit, becoming just flustered and grumpy. "Anyway… I didn't do that, so I'm actually gonna have to… well you get the picture."

"I'm not looking!" Ginger said, making a show of covering her eyes. Jonathen also turned the opposite way, limiting the actual amount he could expose even theoretically. He tried to be done as soon as possible. It took him less than thirty seconds, but he dropped his ice lolly in the process. He didn't really feel like picking it back up and doubted that it could be 'fixed' from being coated in sand and detritus.

The two made their way down the beach to the water. Ginger took to it like a dolphin, running far ahead of Jonathen and diving headfirst. She splashed around a little bit just for her own sake and then settled into a relaxed backstroke. The saltwater was undoubtedly bad for her hair, Jonathen thought. She seemed to not be sweating it though.

"What are you still doing up there you pansy? Get in the water!" Ginger waved him over expectantly. He lingered in the area just before where the tide reached. They had not yet passed the partition where wet sand met dry. "What's the holdup?"

"The water… is it cold?" Jonathen asked, squirming uncomfortably. Ginger tilted her head and looked up in thought. She righted her body in the water and just felt it for a little while.

"...Feels fine to me!" She responded at last. Jonathen nodded and bounced on the balls of his feet. He hyped himself up a bit, before running and leaping just as Ginger had.

Bad move.

"Jesus CHRIST-" Jonathen yelped, leaping out of the water like the majestic toad. It was fucking ice cold. Arctic cold. Liquid nitrogen cold. It seriously felt like that. He knew perfectly well what that felt like, just based on proximity to a certain other girl in the class, and that was it. "G-G-Ginger… what's wrong with you? How are you just… in there?" Shivered Jonathen. She put a finger on her chin while she thought of a response.

"I don't know… I grew up in Scotland, it's pretty cold up there. Maybe that has something to do with it?" She suggested.

"Ginger I was born in Russia! Just… How?"

Ginger thought a little harder. She rubbed her chin like she had an invisible beard. Then she silently made a eureka gesture.

"It must be all those ice baths I used to take! For my skin, you know?"

"You know what? I don't, actually. That doesn't mean I'm surprised, though…" Jonathen sighed.

"Well, you can stay up there all you want if you're too scared of some water, but I'll be down here having fun by myself~"

A sound like an explosion roused the pair. A spray of sand and debris was shot into the sky at Jonathen's feet, and a blastwave made him stagger.

Ginger and Jonathen both paused their swimming escapade for a moment. That horrifying bang like a meteorite struck the beach totally took them out of the moment. The pair about turned, their hero instincts tingling at the feeling of a show of force.

Oh, it was only Daniel. And Gawain, for that matter. Standing opposed from each other in a court marked by cleanly devoured lines in the sand with a net between them. And oh look, they had rackets. Wait, were they playing badminton?

Ginger and Jonathen looked in the impact crater nearby. Within it was the tattered remains of what could have been a shuttlecock but what was definitely not a tennis ball. They looked at each other, and then back at Daniel and Gawain.

"Let's go… Swim a little farther down the beach…" Jonathen suggested.

"Yeah, we'll get a… uh... a better view that way…"

-GAWAIN AND DANIEL-

"Welp, I've only the one shuttlecock left," Complained Gawain.

"Fuck yeah! I rule at this stupid game!" Roared Daniel, punching the air. Gawain, who was looking forward to a nice, relaxing game as he might have had on his home estate, was not pleased. Least of all because Daniel had just blown his favourite shuttlecock.

"Does anyone else want to play? Anyone at all?" He sighed. The number of people not talking in Gawain's vicinity actually increased. The only audible sound was the crashing of the waves and Daniel's heavy breathing. Gawain looked at Laura, who was sitting on a ridiculously high chair.

"Don't look at me, I'm the umpire," She said, turning her nose up at him. She twirled her shading parasol, sending a noticeable cool breeze down the back of Biz, who was sitting at the base of the tall chair and awaiting the coming spectacle.

"We can do a doubles if you'd like? Anyone?" Gawain pressed. Still nobody bit.

"What's the matter Gawain? Scared?" Daniel said, tromping around his half of the sandy badminton court.

"Very well then. Daniel, that's one-love-"

"Yes!"

"-To me. I scored the point. You have to get the shuttlecock inside the lines. It's like colouring? Ever do that? Do you struggle with it?"

"Bullcrap! I hit the thingy harder than you so I win! You're making this shit up as you go along aren't you?"

"He is in fact not making this up, Daniel," confirmed Laura, looking up the rules on her phone. Gawain bowed thankfully.

"Yeah, whatever. Just gimme the shuttle ball or whatever its called!" The wolf-boy grumbled. Gawain shook his head at him.

"Technically, I won the rally so it's my serve again, but I'll let you have this one."

"That's against the rules, Williams," Barked Laura. He shrugged.

"Whoever got anywhere without bending the rules in their favour a little bit?"

Daniel chuckled, and Gawain instantly focused on him with a hawk gaze. What was he snickering about? The boy held his racket a little tighter. Not aggressively hard, but with readying firmness.

"Alright, what's got you so mirthful, pup?" He snarked. As he said this, he made a cursory serve and popped the shuttlecock over the net. Daniel caught it in his claws.

"You really think that this is 'in your favour', don't you?" He growled. Gawain scoffed.

"Prove me wrong, pup,"

"Hey, Laura!" Daniel shouted. The girl's head turned mechanically to answer the player.

"Yes?"

"How many points do I need to win again?"

"Games are played to twenty-one points…"

"Perfect, that's like none at all."

WHAM.

Each one of Daniel's strikes made a cracking sound. The fury and ferocity with which he played was something Gawain wasn't used to in the field of sporting. No, only in combat. His style changed after that amateurish first serve. He was fast, aggressive, and reckless.

Gawain had natural talent, he had trained in the game and played for leisure hundreds of times over. It was a rich kid hobby. When Daniel put all of his force into a lob or a lift, the shuttlecock went way high and gave the boy plenty of time to react and plan, but if the wolf happened to land a drop shot, dive or smash, then catching it was beyond him. He could only do it maybe once out of every five times, and that was only if he saw it coming. The worst thing was that his opponent clearly didn't even know what he was doing.

The difference was pure physicality. Willpower versus technique. And much to Gawain' chagrin, it was about even. Despite looking a bit of a prat with a badminton racket in his hand, Daniel was a force to be reckoned with. It turns out that training to be a hero for your whole life gives you some degree of acclimatisation when it comes to sports and athletics.

The shuttlecock came down. It was on Gawain's side. It was Daniel's point, and since he won the rally it was his serve.

"It's twenty all… that means you've entered deuces…" Laura said.

Daniel had the shuttlecock balanced on the end of the racket, it's flayed bottom resting on the string bed. He had an expression that could only be read as boredom. That ticked Gawain off. No respect for the game at all.

"Gawain, I'm gonna be honest. This prissy bitch game is starting to bore me."

"Why you-"

"How about we spice it up a little?" The wold interjected moments before Gawain ripped into him verbally. It was an interesting proposition.

"However do you mean?" Asked Gawain.

"Quirks allowed," grinned Daniel. As he did so, electricity welled from inside him, making him glow ever so slightly and ruffling his hair for him. Gawain couldn't help but smile aswell. But whereas Daniel's smile was plucky, Gawain's was borderline sadistic.

"Agreed~" He laughed.

"Hey, Hachi!" Daniel called. She arrived soon after, curious about what the call was about but not wanting to get between Daniel and Gawain's catfighting. "Do me a favour," he continued. Daniel craned the racket and shuttlecock over to her at around waist height.

"Let me guess, you want me to turn these into gold?" She said, flicking some of her long feminine hair out of her eyes.

"What else?" Replied Daniel.

"Wait a minute!" Laura interjected. "Hachi is outside of the game! She's not allowed to interfere!"

"Pssh," Gawain and Daniel dismissed in unison.

"I only said 'quirks allowed', I didn't say they had to be ours!"

Laura sunk into her seat. He was technically correct. The best kind of correct. She had been intellectually defeated by a kid who marked their territory by pissing on the trees around the grounds.

Hachi obliged Daniel's request. Gold flowed over both instruments, the racket and shuttlecock, like a thick liquid, and when it was done they were both resplendent and honey-coloured. Daniel felt them, waved them around. He was feeling their weight.

"Somewhere between a bowling ball and a shot put…" He grinned. That was what he wanted to happen.

"If you take that to the face you're going straight to the hospital. Heck, if it lands on your toes you won't be walking right for weeks. Don't say I didn't warn you~" Hachi said, sashaying off.

"Thanks, Hachi."

"She never offered to do mine…" Gawain said glumly. "Oh well, I would have turned her down anyway."

"What, you think you're so much better than me?"

"Guess~" Gawain replied.

"Enough flirting, you two, serve the damn thing!" Biz heckled. Daniel huffed and took the shuttlecock in an overarm throw position. Tossing it heftily up into the air, he summoned all the electricity he had saved. A mighty burst of strength came to him. A superhuman force. The rally began.

SMACK.

The shuttlecock went up. Way up. Up and up until it was only a dot, and then it disappeared behind the only cloud in the sky. Gawain got the sun's glare in his eyes just trying to spy it on its skyward trajectory. Then Daniel got a cloud of his own. It wasn't clear if Daniel was calling upon it or it was merely coming to him of its own accord, but a storm cloud began to gather. A dark black nimbus that hung low in the sky from its weight, and appeared ready to burst at any moment. It shuddered and lit up in brilliant blue. All the beachgoers heard it. Thunder. Some ran to their cars, anticipating a sudden storm. Others huddled under their umbrellas. Only the present students understood what the true source of the highly localised bad weather was.

Dylan splayed out, puffing his chest out to the sky, and howled to the storm. A bolt came down, a solid column of azure light that screamed with energy. It made the world in a ten-meter radius all around the badminton court dark as night and then lit it as bright as day before disappearing all in an instant. The sand was turned to misty crystalline glass in the blink of an eye and made a ring around Daniel's feet. The cloud dispersed like the smoke from an explosion, Daniel having taken from it what he needed. Electricity. He was full of it now. His whole body bristled, little bolts falling off him and shooting away as if he were a tesla coil. His hair and ears standing to attention. His eyes blue and his veins surging. Gawain felt a static pull. His own hair was being tugged at, and his heart felt uneasy. There was a tingling heat on his skin.

He gripped his racket, made gold by Hachi's quirk, so hard that it was moulded into the shape of his fist. Not only was his strength multiplied in this state, but the sheer heat coming off of his body was more than enough to change the soft, melty metal into a consistency resembling clay. It was irrelevant. With all the power he was storing up, Daniel could hit the shuttlecock back with a wet pool noodle and still, he would have enough force to punch a hole in sheet metal.

The shuttlecock was surely coming down by now. Gawain prepared, never letting his smug grin waver. He awoke his own quirk, and Jormungandr seethed and rose like Gawain were wearing a predatory crocodile or some kind of big cat around his neck. It spiralled around his neck and down his chest. Up to his arm it went, and then it came to his hand. It filled it like Gawain was gripping black fire, and rose around the contours of his racket, enflaming it in velvet coloured energy which pulsed hot and hungrily.

Tendrils sprung out from every point on Jormungandr's surface, and each one warped around the tip, forcing itself into the shape of a lattice stretched between a ring. He was making more rackets. A lot more. More than a dozen extra, probably.

"Grim Reaper Dance: Rally,"

Biz and Laura observed the spectacle helplessly. Of everyone in the class, these two had to have the showiest quirks.

"I don't think this is regulation…" Laura muttered, gripping her chair so hard her knuckles became white. It teetered from the force of the wind, which she could only do so much to stabilise with her nitrogen dominion. Biz did his part to hold it steady, his eyes glued to the match. The next volley would be it. Theres no way they could continue at this level for more than one or two more swiped of the racket without it turning into mortal combat.

"I can't help but think they're taking this a wee little bit too fucking seriously, eh?" Exclaimed Biz.

"Intriguing…" Muttered Brannon, who was crouched behind the umpire's chair the whole time. He jotted furiously in his notebook. Biz jumped out of his skin when he saw a teacher gawking at this horrific display of self-control.

"A-A-Are we gettin' in trouble for this, teach…?" Biz stammered, his first concern being his own incrimination. Brannon shrugged, looking incredibly gung ho about it the consequences and more interested in the spectacle. He was too relaxed about this. Way too relaxed.

"Only if Feldon finds out. Or if the police find out… are you recording this?"

"What? No!"

"...Can you?"

The shuttlecock began to come down. It was on Gawain's side, of course, meaning he would get the first move. The solid gold glinted in the sun and dropped like a rock, no aerodynamics surviving the transition of materials. It still whistled as it fell, somewhat like a bomb.

After bated breath and a standoff that made things feel like high noon when it was only a touch after ten, the shuttlecock entered Gawain's incredible range.

A drop shot. With his real racket. The rest of the tentacles all spread out behind him, forming a superlattice comprised of their false shafts and string beds. When Gawain hit it, he put everything he and jormungandr had into the shot. His hips moved with it, and the force was such that the boy spun around once at a skewed sideways angle.

The shuttlecock was now moving faster than the eye could see, and on a direct collision course with the area of the midcourt in front of Daniel's feet. Daniel was faster than even that. His speed surpassed what the typical mind could process. Sending a billowing cloud of sand into the sky as he shot off, Daniel lunged for the shuttlecock. He was forgoing any sense of decorum or technique, swinging the racket like a caveman's club. It would have been clear to anyone observing his form, or lack thereof, that he did not intend to defeat Gawain by getting more points than him.

He intended to win by default.

The noise reverberated like a thunderstorm was going on in your ears. The noise of Daniel hitting the shuttlecock. It was not aimed up, it was not aimed down. It wasn't even aimed around the net. Daniel hit it straight forward. He blew a hole in the net, and now the molten, misshapen mass of heavy gold that was once the shuttlecock was shot like a bullet directly at Gawain.

Jormungandr reacted before Gawain was able to. The beast took the reins for a microsecond, just enough time to put about five or six rackets, the real one included, between Gawain and Daniel's serve.

It was like trying to stop a bullet train. Gawain skidded back in a fashion that felt eerily familiar to him, his feet digging shin-deep into the sand. When Gawain's legs failed and his back started to bend, Jormungandr sunk its claws into the terrain. It wasn't as much help as Gawain hoped. The sand was too fine to provide any resistance. He was thrown backwards helplessly. Jormungandr came apart like an overfilled plastic bag, and Gawain clattered to his knees at the very edge of the forecourt.

The shuttlecock fell to the ground like a dropped brick. Daniel's point.

"YES!" Daniel howled, jumping on the spot. His energy was spent, but the victory was his! Gawain dusted himself off and got to his feet, trying not to pay attention to the wolf's gloating. "I WIN! EAT SHIT!"

"Actually Daniel, you need a two-point lead to win deuces," explained Laura faintly. Daniel sunk a bit, then Gawain extended his tendrils again.

"Grim Reaper Dance: Rally…"

It didn't take long after that.

Gawain scored three in a row and clinched the win. Still, no matter how smug he made his face, and he was a master at putting on an incredibly smug face, it felt hollow somehow. He hated to admit it even only mentally to himself, but the moral victory was not his.

"Tch… unsatisfying for both parties. This is why you don't make a rival out of a runt."

One thing was for sure, he was going to need a new beach badminton set.

-TANITH AND LOLA-

Back in town, parked within eyesight of the beach, there was one girl who never strayed far from the shuttles. Tanith Haneyama occupied the time she had tediously thumbing through stacks and stack of premium digital images, hunting relentlessly for the fleeting dopamine hit of the one with a funny outfit and slightly flashier border. Was it, objectively speaking, a waste of time and money? Sure, but it was her time to waste and her money to spend. Being an affluent girl, and being too cripplingly shy to set foot on a beach, she had plenty of both.

"Hey girl friend, What the hell are you still doing here on your own?" A familiar voice intruded on Tanith's peace and quiet.

"Are we 'friends'? When did that happen?" Tanith buried her head deeper into her phone. Lola was sitting on the hood of the shuttle, right in the eyeline of the animatronic chauffeur.

"When you decided to get out of this dinghy limo and come down to the beach with me, you fart," Lola grinned.

"Why would I do that, exactly?" Tanith asked, not taking her eyes off her phone.

"It's fun, duh. Come on, you can socialise, swim, get a tan maybe-"

"Absolutely not. I mean, I don't even have a swimsuit. I didn't just forget to bring one, I literally don't own one because I would never ever wear something like that-"

"Well you're in luck, I brought a spare," the other girl smiled. Tanith looked at what she was wearing right now. A bright pink two-piece that skirted the line of what would be considered taboo. She frowned.

"Yeah, unlike you when I put clothes on it's because I expect them to cover something," She groaned.

"It's a one-piece! It covers the tummy and stuff!" Lola yelped, sounding offended. "Hell, why do you think I decided to wear this one instead?"

"Look, I don't know how you got this idea that I wanted your encouragement or that I enjoy talking to you or would even theoretically enjoy 'socialising' around you or something? You are basically the exact kind of person I don't like!" Tanith growled.

"Oh? What kind of person is that?" Inquired Lola, lowering her sunglasses. Tanith strained her hands in frustration, making her fingers twitch.

"You… You're a vain… shallow-"

"Oh, so I'm prettier than you? Is that it?"

"I'm literally blind you… you Strumpet!"

"Oh, ok miss background character," Snarked Lola.

"Bitch!" Tanith said, lunging at the other girl. Lola stopped her by holding one hand out and merely uttering a few words.

"Tanith, people might see~"

The manticore instantly slinked back into the recesses of the car, fuming at her own shyness.

"...It's… Not just that I don't like you, y'know…" Said Tanith, folding herself into a fetal position.

"It's not?" Said Lola, sounding surprised.

"No. It's… How do I say this to a person like… you…? Hmm… I'm not really into the whole boy chasing thing. Like, at all. I have less than zero interest in seeing anyone else in that way or having anyone see me that way and I never will. And It's not just because I got low self-esteem or whatever. I just don't like it. I don't wanna wear swimsuits and prance around public places and be seen. You could call me… cold… I suppose…" She explained tentatively.

"What, so you're like, asexual?" Lola said. Tanith was surprised that any of her rant managed to resonate inside of her air-filled head, but she was right on the money. She let the other girl know with an apprehensive nod.

"Girl, if a man sees a lady having fun on the beach with some platonic pals and his first reaction is to turn into a slathering pig that's his problem. You're just you in swimming clothes! That shouldn't mean anything on its own."

"It shouldn't... But what if-?"

"How's this," Lola interjected. "You promise to cheer up a little and stop being such a fuddy-duddy, and I promise to send any boy that comes within ten feet of you to the emergency room. Deal?"

Tanith was silent. She was kinda stunned to be honest. Why the hell was Lola doing any of this? She made her feelings about her quite clear. At least, she thought she did. As of now, most of the anger that Lola made her feel had faded and was replaced by something else. Maybe it was just her attitude rubbing off on her, but she felt… slightly more confident somehow? She relaxed her pose.

"...I'll think about it."

Lola slid off the hood of the shuttle, smiling at what she considered an absolute win.

"I'm leaving my bag here. If you ever make your mind up, the suit's in there. Now I'm gonna get back to the beach since I'm losing sunlight. Ciao~"

Tanith watched her strut away. As promised, she left her bag right there on the hood. Reaching out as far as she could without actually leaving the vehicle, Tanith yanked the pack onto her lap. She thought a little more about it. She was actually thinking about it! Had she gone crazy? She felt suddenly queasy. Maybe she wouldn't after all… Or maybe…

-THE BEACH-

"So, how'd it go?" Jazzmin inquired. Lola laid back on her beach towel giving off a completely self-assured aura.

"Swimmingly~" She mewed. A few beats later, like clockwork, Tanith entered view. She assumed a low profile kneeling position on the sand next to where Lola was reclining. The corners of Lola's lips curled up.

"Well, it was a bold strategy… Good thing it paid off, huh?" Said Jazzmin. Tanith scoffed and folded her arms.

"I don't know why the hell you even wanted me to come out here in the first place, but I guess this isn't the worst place to play gacha…" Tanith mumbled.

"What's wrong with a girl wanting to network a little bit?" Lola said.

"She heard you were rich," Jazzmin admitted. Lola smacked her on the back of the head and grunted. Tanith, despite the whole 'admission of just wanting to be friends with a rich person' thing, actually found the situation funny. Funny enough to make her breath out her nose a little harder, anyway. She didn't actually laugh, it was gonna take a lot more than that to get an actual rise out of her.

"So…" Lola began awkwardly. "...Do you… Wanna go swimming?"

"Baby steps," Tanith answered, taking her phone out. Lola shrugged. Progress was progress.

All in all, not a bad day.

TO BE CONTINUED

Not got a lot to say this week. Please enjoy this silly suplemental beach chapter I decided to write just to indulge myself. A bit of R&R for the students and the author! Next week, we will be back to plot development. Look forward to it everyone! And remember to review, PM if you want, join the discord, read the wiki, etc etc. All the usual things! And as always, thanks for reading. I'll see you in the next one.