Arc 2 – "Homecoming" – Chapter 13: We'll Get There Yet
A/N: Hey guys! :D
Sorry for the massive delay. Way over a month, I know. Between my wisdom teeth getting massively infected and putting me out of commission for a couple weeks, ice-pick migraines, my general dislike of the holidays, and overall just me being depressed and lethargic for the winter; it's been a rough go of things. But it's done! It's finally done!
Review Responses:
- destroyer63: I'd probably say not; since in order to detect magic, it requires the use of magic... which would make him detectable via said magic.
- Annonmymous: We'll just have to find out! Eh, he's good, but I don't think he's that good. ;)
- The Green Seer: Agreed. Sometimes, the public or media can make engaging "enemies" for the heroes.
- Mr. Ursine: Turning into swarms is among his most under-utilized abilities in my opinion. It's limited, generally to tiny or miniscule creatures, but it can be effective in the right circumstance. As for a new name... hadn't really thought about it honestly (at least not to my recollection); we'll see though.
- LordChico: Yep! X) The Malkarasha's my baby! (in a completely Cyborg-to-car sort of manner, but less weird... I think)
- "Eris": Right now, he only has the two, and they are fundamentally human in origin (though they don't appear that way).
I believe I've mentioned it before, but Beast Boy is solely comprised of a human heart and mind. The animals he can turn into don't possess a voice in his head (otherwise, that would lead to a whole slew of psychological issues I couldn't even begin to diagnose). He becomes, in essence, an animal with the mind and intelligence of a human; he is not lead by animal instinct, or divided by the instinctive pull from multiple forms. It's his mind, so therefore his instincts. He can draw on the animal's base instinctive understanding, but ultimately, his instinct will always win out or be the deciding factor (as seen in the show, how he feels or how he reacts is generally mirrored in the form he takes). That doesn't mean these new "instincts" are any less him. I hope that makes sense.
Disclaimer: Over here! The Disclaimer! You know?! That thing that says I don't own this.
Read and Review if you have Questions, Comments, or Concerns (affectionately QCC)
Without further ado. *Que the dimming of the lights*
Magicks that Bind: Arc 2 – "Homecoming"
Chapter 13: We'll Get There Yet
Cyborg was already pedaling up to speed, taking the easiest drive route to keep from aggravating Raven's shoulder. Not that she could feel it yet. Starfire had already dug into the emergency kit for the cold packs, popping and shaking the chemical reaction in a bag before giving it to Raven. The sorceress gently applied it to her shoulder, inhaling sharply for a moment before breathing at ease.
Starfire was gently poking and feeling her bruises, cataloguing the extent of her own wounds with a practiced care.
"Here," Raven said, offering a hand to Starfire.
The princess just shook her head softly. "Friend, I will heal in due time. Conserve your energy. It will be of most service to your own recovery."
That was the problem. To heal herself, she had to get her shoulder popped back into place. To get her shoulder popped back into place, she had to get this bullet out of her shoulder. To get the bullet out of her shoulder, she needed to be in a sterile environment. Not that she was super concerned with Earth bacteria or antigens; her half-demon blood tended to burn those things away… almost literally. Still, her physiology was still as much of a mystery to her as it was to science.
She nodded in resignation as she looked out the window to watch the city fly by. It helped her cope with the fact that she had gotten her ass royally handed to her. Her shadows had been obliterated by a flashbang. Granted her barrier had been shattered by over sixty-thousand pounds of concentrated PSI focused on point the size of a dot sticker, after absorbing its greater impact. Due to the Armor-Piercing jacket of the bullet, she was fortunate it had stopped at her shoulder bone.
Speaking of which, a simple brush of energy over the area in question gave her a guesstimate of how bad it was. A massive bruise around the entry point (i.e. her whole shoulder) from where the bullet had impacted her suit. Torn muscle and ligaments from the diffusion of force on impact with her shoulder, which had dislocated it, causing further tears in muscle and ligament. And the icing on the cake, her entire… friggin'… shoulder bone was bruised… with a piece of military hardware rubbing up against it. But none of the suit had been taken in with the bullet, so at least there wasn't a chance of anything suppurating and festering. She probably could phase it out, but messing with it sounded like a bad idea right now. Best leave it to the professionals.
It was a miracle she wasn't screaming in agony all things considered. Thank Azar for adrenaline; and when the adrenaline wore off, thank Azar for whatever Beast Boy had tipped on his stingers.
'Aaaand you had to think about that,' Rude commented.
Of course, it was only natural that she was confused. He'd turned into a Malkarasha. A… Mal-ka-rash-a. Only a species of animal that was notorious, and infallible, in its ability to become, and remain, loyal. After he said that he didn't know how to feel, she would never have expected something so… decisive? While that was a relief in and of itself (if not a little much for Passion's innate fantasies, which were getting swatted away with extra gusto), he seemed aloof and wary. Conflicted. And like in the jungle, violent. And once more, she felt the weight of blame fall on her shoulders as she thought about the repercussions.
'I do that to him.'
She was Suffering, both for what it meant, and for what it drew out in him. What it drew out in her. Not that she had a single word to describe what that was; as convenient as that would make things. It made her feel light and heavy all at once. Accepted and rejected. The back and forth would probably drive her crazy before her emotions would. In her mind, she was once again left trying to associate two different Beast Boy's; even if she knew that they were one and the same, they were strangely opposing forces, and she didn't know how to rectify them. Probably in the same way that he didn't know how to view her after the enormous bomb that she had "Literally merged their bodies and souls."
'Oh Azar. That really does sound like we–' She took a deep breath to moderate the sudden queasy feeling in her stomach. Oh, she was going to hurl! Was this how he'd been feeling the whole time?!
'Guuurl! Finish that thought!' Passion demanded, before seductively – or whatever passed for seductively in Raven's mind – conjuring a counter that she could lean on. 'Sooo, what do you think his stamina is–'
A portal opened up underneath her, black tentacles shooting out and dragging her down, snapping shut with all the speed of a clopped mouth before she could finish.
'No! You do not objectify him you horny bitch!'
All was quiet as the whole Conspiracy looked at a flaring gray cloak as it returned to its calmed state. Timid looked… well… pissed… in a "hide a little deeper in her cloak" kinda way. 'Sh-Sh-Sh-She deserved it,' she stated adamantly before whimpering as the stares persisted.
'Damn! We looked hot!' Brave stated confidently, which caused Timid to wilt even further.
Raven audibly groaned, knocking her head against the window.
"You okay back there?" Cyborg asked, eyeing her through his rear-view mirror with a remote adjustment. "Did B's tail-shit wear off?"
"I wish," she stated, but didn't elaborate at the glance and shrugging shoulders her friends shared.
It wasn't a few minutes later that they were crossing the single lane, retracting bridge that connected the singular jut of rock that was their home to the mainland. Even parking in the garage was a rather quiet ordeal.
"Alright gang," Cyborg called, even as he opened his door and the garage door began closing, "let's get this over with."
"Perhaps I may be of assistance," Starfire stated as both she and Raven exited the car. "I have been present for many battle-field amputations on my home planet."
Both Raven and Cyborg deadpanned at the princess. "Um, Star… I'd like to keep my arm, thank you," Raven stated.
"What she said," Cyborg reaffirmed.
"No," Starfire said back, shaking her head lightly before putting a finger to her lips in thought, trying to figure out how to converse clearly. "I am not one to have the weak stomachs, so I will not do any of thee up-and-chucking over friend Cyborg's clean floor if I do the helping. You must do the trusting, I have seen far worse than a simple metal projectile."
"Oh… well… lead with that next time," Cyborg stated, locking up the T-car before adding under his breath, "Last thing we need is anyone else on the team with scrap for arms."
"If it's all the same to you Starfire, I'd rather you didn't," Raven stated. "I appreciate you putting my arm in a sling, but this is already going to be… uncomfortable for me."
"I see. You are being put in a state of vulnerability, and this is not a preferred position for anyone. It is this "three being a crowd" saying that humans are fond of," Starfire asserted as they made their way to the elevator. "I believe I understand."
"Not quite in the same context, but close enough," Raven shrugged, as Cyborg hit the button.
They ascended the Tower in relieved silence. It felt like the day should be over already with all the eventfulness that had been jam-packed into it. Unfortunately, it wasn't even lunch time. The elevator dinged as they arrived at their floor.
"We'll see ya later Star," Cyborg said, walking out after Raven. "Make sure to meditate and get plenty of rest. I'll check up on ya later." He turned to leave but swung back around in after-thought. "And NO Dick! I am not walking in on no hanky-panky!"
The princess had the nerve to blush cutely, her fingers poking together innocently. Riiiight! "Innocently". "Friend, I have nothing but honorable intentions this eve. This hanking-of-panking sounds most scandalous. I would not dare to slander my Gen'da'hen's honor."
Cyborg just raised an eyebrow. "Mmm-hmm," he exclaimed sassily. "That's what I thought."
He proceeded to pull Raven along, grumbling under his breath. "I wish you a most eased time of doctoring, friends. Please ensure you are both back in a singular piece," Starfire called out as they left, pressing the button for her floor.
"One piece? Why would I be in multiple pieces?" He turned to see Raven giving him a cocked eyebrow. "Riiight. You start feeling anything, I'm bringin' out the anesthesia."
"Can't you just… pop the bullet out?" she asked, unsure as they made their way to the Med-Bay.
"I could, but I need to make sure that your shoulder getting dislocated didn't shift the entrance wound too much. We don't want any unforeseen consequences, which is why I assume you didn't just phase it out." He looked her over carefully. "We're lucky. Between your powers, your suit, and your dense-ass bones, the pressure cavity could have been so much worse. In fact, I'd think the reason you absorbed the shock so well was because of how your muscle fibers are woven too. The elasticity allowed it to expand the cavity and contract back into place."
"I don't understand the science of it," she admitted, shrugging her good shoulder. "But yeah, I didn't want to just mess around with it."
"Just remember to thank B for his muscles," Cyborg teased. 'Worth it,' he thought painfully as the lights flickered and the walls crumpled like the inside of a soda can, exposing some of the Towers innards. "But seriously, that muscle-weave you two have probably just save your butt. Or in this case, your shoulder. I'd love to be able to analyze it's full applications."
Raven stopped as soon as she recognized the room they were heading for. "Med-Bay Four?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm getting nameplates engraved, no worries," Cyborg dismissed with a wave.
She was going to mention that it was the exact same one they had been in this morning, but he didn't seem bothered by it. The door opened automatically, and both Titan's stopped at the crumpled gurney moved off to the side. "That's a reinforced aluminum frame. Did I miss something this morning?"
"Not sure," Raven stated. "It was intact when I left."
Cyborg murmured, "The little shit, breakin' my shit," under his breath. There may have been a mini-rant afterward, but Raven tuned him out, standing next to the computer and holo-prompts.
"So what now?"
He pulled up a chair. "Now, I need to do a quick scan." She nodded and followed his lead. He carefully slid the sling off before peeling away the impromptu patch. "Good. Good. No discoloration from the wound," he said as he observed the bleed. His robotic eye glowed a little brighter as it projected two scanning red lines across the entrance wound. His face didn't seem to change as he finished. "The cavity is skewed slightly, but the bullet didn't take any of your suit in with it. So there's some good news. How's it holding up?"
She wiggled her fingers a little. "Well, my shoulder is still numb, but I can move my fingers." She frowned slightly. "Is that okay?"
"Probably better that way," he answered. "Now normally, we'd cut the suit to get at your shoulder. Buuut…."
"You made it resistant to scissors," she stated with a sigh.
He nodded. "Anything short of a scalpel won't cut it, and we don't wanna risk cutting into your arm."
"So what happens if the zipper breaks?" she asked, smirking to herself when his face balked.
"Just let me dig a bullet out of your arm," he demanded, ignoring her question. He waved his hand in front of part of the wall, prompting a holo-keypad to appear. He quickly typed in a code before a segment opened up, revealing one of his robotic arm, just… white and red. "Interchangeability," he answered her silent question as he detached his current arm, easily swapping out for the new one. "My normal arm can only have so many functions before it gets overloaded and I wanted something a little more delicate and hands-on for stability. So I built one specifically for the Med-Bay's. Pretty sweet, huh? Figured if I was going to have Situational Launch Platforms (SLP, or "Slip") for a bunch of my other stuff, it might pay to have some of those installed in the Tower."
"What does it do?" she asked, cocking her head slightly in curiosity. She jumped as the whole arm seemed to expand, its outer plating breaking apart as it calibrated to his current system, going through a preliminary diagnostic check even as his nerves – both natural and artificial – adjusted to the new arm.
"A lot of things," he stated simply, even as the fingers turned into a mass of miniature robotic tendrils at were almost surgical small, some hair-thin at best. "And hopefully, I'll never have to use them all." His fingers returned to normal before he situated it just near the wound. "Now hold still. I don't want to damage the muscle around."
She nodded, watching as one of his fingers returned to its tendril state before some broke apart to the thickness of a paperclip wire. They slinked forward, Raven almost tempted to flinch once she saw them entered the wound, her skin visibly expanding. But she didn't feel anything. It was weird. She didn't even feel them when the bullet slowly began to retract from her shoulder.
Cyborg held it up for her to see. "Souvenir." He quickly set if off to the side, doing another scan over her shoulder. "Okay, so I'm gonna have to pop your shoulder back into place. Then we need to see about getting it back up to rotation. It's been stuck like that for… well, more time than can be good for it."
She nodded, even as she turned the chair around to face away from him. He did a few quick preliminary feels around her back to see where exactly everything was, before he breathed. "Alright, I'm gonna count to three. Not sure if this will hurt or not. Ready?"
She nodded, expecting him to pull the trick where he pulled on "One" instead of "Three".
"One." She breathed, wondering why she didn't feel the tug on her arm. "Two. Three." Aaand there it was, again she didn't feel anything. Whatever Beast Boy had injected her with was… strong. Really strong. She was vaguely aware of Cyborg checking over her shoulder before nodding in approval. "Alright, one more scan."
She waited patiently, knowing that for anyone "normal", this would have been a very different conversation. Even then, she was going to rest for a bit and be back up to snuff in a couple hours anyway. But what else was there to do? They were heroes. Almost lose an arm? No worries! We'll get you fighting fit in a day or less! It was no different here. If anything, she dreaded what kind of damages it would take for her to require more than a couple days to heal.
"Alright, everything looks good. Just make sure you change so I can get that hole patched in your suit. And dress your shoulder with a clean bandage, even if the bleeding stops," he instructed. "Chances are, your whole shoulder's gonna be one big bruise. While I've seen how effective your Healing Trance is, I'm still gonna hold a prescription for at least half-a-weeks' worth of pain meds. Might need to double-check to make sure it healed properly. I'm not sure how far you'll be able to heal yourself in one go with all of today's excitement."
"Can't I just meditate? I can ignore the pain just fine," she stated.
"You could, but then people tend to sing a different tune when they're actually in pain," he said back, already changing his arm back. "If you can't heal it all in one go, let me know, and I'll get you some meds. It's much easier to stay ahead of the pain than it is to catch back up to it. And trust, that's gonna pack a wallop if it catches up. You can thank adrenaline and BB for the assist to your pain tolerance thus far, but I wouldn't count on a second dose of either."
"Fine," she relented, self-conscious of her limb, even though it was properly aligned now. As tempted as she was, she didn't want to start rotating it yet. "I'm going to go rest then."
"Take care," Cyborg waved, wrapping up his business as she left. As soon as she left, his face was showing a different frame of mind.
Almost immediately, his databanks began updating. New information lead to new questions; on top of the slew of old ones as well. He absently picked up the green spine he'd been using as a paperweight, now knowing that it was a quill, and it was from that form B had used at the bank. Everything he knew about it was now listed out before his eye as he catalogued and observed it as a new species; listed among the other strange beasts B had turned into. That was one question answered at least.
There were others, of course: Why did B morph into most forms, transform into others, and what was the difference? And what about the Sakutia Virus? What about B made it so that it gave him superpowers where it had killed all other recorded cases? What were those little fluttery things he'd turned into four months ago before lightning scrubbed the cameras? Maybe, get some info on why B didn't look like Yoda after Mad Mod stole enough years off him to return to his prime? (Personally, he was betting money on some jellyfish gene) So many questions; which is why he needed skin cell and blood samples.
Otherwise, he was keeping both the changeling's and the sorceress's files close together, side-by-side as he continued to observe how their bodies had adapted. He needed a clearer frame of reference. Maybe another pair of eyes on this would help… or at the very least, someone else who was aware of what happened. It just so happened, he had one particular person in mind.
But for now, he needed to clean up and prep those meds.
And turn that bullet into a trophy for Raven.
Meanwhile, in the back of a police van…
"And that's it?"
"Yep."
"Nothing else?"
Beast Boy sighed. Recounting what he knew – and didn't know – was a chore in and of itself. There was only so much he could remember about that day, and most of it had been unpleasant. Evidently, he'd been dying, according to Raven. That was a sobering thought.
Not to mention some of the important parts – read: whenever he lost control – were all big ol' blanks. Evidently, some important bits were missing there. At least he could remember most of kicking Adonis' ass, at least up until the end of it. You know… when he'd blacked out.
'But I won,' he thought with only semi-amusement, before he remembered why he'd had to wall-stomp the villain in the first place. 'He ever pulls that shit again, and I'll do more than tear into his suit!'
"That's all I can remember," he confirmed, huddling a little tighter under the large blanket that had been provided for him. He got why Raven liked her cloaks so much now; he was otherwise completely – and literally – exposed, and the blanket completely encompassed his body. It smelled a little stale, but it was warm at least. November was not the time to be butt-naked in Jump City; not that he'd feel the cold much.
At least they were seated in the back of a police van with the heat on.
"Is there anything else Commissioner?" Nightwing asked.
Commissioner Stevens sighed as he finished the recording on his phone. "It's not as much as I would like, and the higher-ups won't like it, but I'll see if I can make it work," he stated. "If you're going on air, you need to have answers to those blanks though. If you say "I don't know"…."
"…Then people will fill in the blanks themselves," Nightwing finished off. "And generally, that will be worse than the truth."
"Which means you'll need to talk to Raven," Stevens stated, noting the way Beast Boy's shoulders tensed up, "since she was the only one who can confirm any of what happened, save the villains that were present too. And I prefer not to use their testimonies as evidence. Gizmo's was… colorfully indulgent, to say the least."
Beast Boy snorted humorously. "I'm sure I was fifteen feet with horns, a spaded tail, breathing fire, chanting in Latin, and lobbing boogers."
"That's… surprisingly accurate," Stevens commented, rubbing the back of his neck stressfully. "And an overview and summary of the last four months might also be good, since you've been out of the public eye for so long."
"We've brought it up a couple times," Nightwing stated, "but we'll be sure to take the time to go over it properly."
"I still think this is your guys' fault for lying in the first place," Beast Boy stated. "If you guys had been straight, then there wouldn't be any of this cloak and dagger stuff."
"Maybe, but it is what it is," Stevens stated. "The Titans are the only multi-national fighting force on Earth that can be deployed anywhere indiscriminately. It's comprised of the youngest conglomerate of young adult and teenage heroes – super or otherwise – that Earth has ever seen; much less, having taken down an organization as high-tiered as the Brotherhood of Evil.
"As it stands, outside of any major conflict with a single, or group, of villains, the Titans have the largest publicity circle; even when compared to more notable and long-standing groups such as the Justice League, Doom Patrol, or Justice Society. Unfortunately, that puts you guys in the limelight. A lot."
"Well when you put it like that, it makes us sound like we did something great," Beast Boy commented sarcastically. "We just did what we always do: get dragged into someone else's conflict, and hope we don't get bit in the butt when we're stuck playing for the long-haul."
Nightwing raised a finger to protest before dropping it back down a second later in realization. "Shit."
"And people do realize that we almost lost to the Brotherhood of Evil, right?"
Commissioner Stevens shrugged. "But you didn't, and now you're all famous. The best we can do right now is keep the Titans in good standing. Unfortunately, that means minimizing damage to your public image."
Beast Boy raised an eyebrow critically. "You do know that the higher up on the pedestal people put us, the bigger the crash when it all comes tumbling down, right? And why do you know so much about hero-public relations?"
"Because politics are a bitch, and I have to listen to it near all day long," the Commissioner stated with annoyance, clearly not irritated. At all. He then waved a hand absently as he moved toward the back door of the van. "You guys prepare what you can. It's all I can do to keep a maximum-security detail on the villains as is."
"How are they doing anyway?" Beast Boy asked, not particularly caring about their well-being. He just needed to know how soon he could be expecting to put them back in the hospital. For some reason, he felt that stir a low-toned growl from the back of his mind.
"Unfortunately, that's info I can't divulge," Stevens stated reluctantly. "You can probably expect a few restraining orders though."
Beast Boy's eyes narrowed. "People do know that they're the ones who attack and destroy city property, right? We intervene to stop said rampages. How do they expect us to do the hero gig if we have to constantly stay a minimum of thirty feet away, even when their being dicks?"
"Doesn't matter," Nightwing sighed, equally peeved. "Criminals have some rights too. Otherwise the system can get abused. It doesn't matter how much we dislike it, those standards are in place so we don't cross the line. So we don't sink to their level. But thankfully, there are some rational thinkers that keep things reasonable. Stevens has been especially adamant in our case."
Beast Boy hated it, but he nodded in understanding anyway. He'd had some criminal law grilled into him by Mento, and he understood that he had to take the moral high-ground… even if that meant he had to somehow deal with a restraining order or two. As much as he comprehended that, some part of him knew that he would black out again. And a part of him would welcome it. The only thing that scared him though, was the "how" that black out came about.
Like any good mind-numbing rage, there was a trigger event, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to figure out what would pull the pin on that particular hand grenade.
"You boys take care," Stevens farewelled, clicking open the back of the van. "Do what'cha can to alleviate public concerns, get back up to your best-standing, and try to stay out of trouble. Save us all some paperwork, hmm?"
"We'll try," Nightwing returned with a chuckle. In a moment, it was just the two of them in the back of the van.
They didn't speak, and for once, Beast Boy was glad. It wasn't as oppressive as any of the other times he was left alone with Ro-… Nightwing (He'd get it right eventually). Instead, it was relatively… almost calm.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Nightwing asked, leaning back against a seat he'd taken up.
Beast Boy chuckled wryly. "If I'd known the politics were going to be this bad, I would have stayed in the jungle. At least I didn't have to restrain myself there."
Nightwing returned the chuckle with one of his own. "It would make things easier." His chuckle faded to a frown. "But I get that. The bad guys are escalating. We're not kids anymore, and they're acting like it."
"What kept you guys back there anyway?" Beast Boy asked, seriously curious. "Bullets don't normally keep you guys stranded." He pondered what he had buzzed in on. "Although, Star did have a bunch of bruises."
Nightwing tensed up at that, but quickly eased himself. "Yeah. Armor-piercing rounds. Military hardware. They reserved them for Star. Used a flashbang on Raven before taking a shot at her. She deflected most of the damage, but she was blinded for most of the fight. Personally, she's lucky to still have her arm."
He watched the changeling carefully as his face and neck seemed to crawl with moving webs and veins for a moment, unsure what he was seeing, but not drawing attention to it. Chances were that Beast Boy didn't even notice. "Speaking of which, thanks for the save. We were a little pinned."
"Hey, you told me "desperate", and I was pretty sure that counted!" he jabbed gently. As quickly as it had come though, he was back to frowning in thought. "But why wasn't Star going in starbolts firing?"
"New restrictions," Nightwing stated bitterly. "They want us to restrict ourselves depending on threat escalation. The weaker the the threat, the more restrictions; and vice versa."
"That's dumb."
"Tell me about it," he agreed. "But don't worry too much. Cyborg and I have been billing them for damages on our end, which is starting to add up now. At this rate, we're basically independent contractors now that we've all but completely established the Tower off the city's grid." He paused for a moment before something else that had been nagging at him came front and center. "Sooo… you basically crippled that one guy."
Beast Boy tensed up all over again, not bothering to try and hide it.
"Thanks."
He smirked at the whiplash force the changeling swung around with. He quickly poked a clawed pinky in his ear and wiggled it around slightly. "Uhhh, wha? You might need to repeat that. I'm pretty sure I just misheard you."
Nightwing smiled. "Thanks," he repeated without hesitating. "That was the guy who shot up the girls. He'll never hold a gun, much less a pen, ever again. Chances are, if you hadn't done something, I would have." His hand unconsciously clenched before he had to almost force it back open. "How did you know anyway?"
Beast Boy quickly got over his confusion at being thanked by the not-so-boy blunder as he seriously pondered the question. "I don't know. I just kinda… felt it. Like a part of me was tearing out of me to pin him down. Not quite human… but not not human."
"Like a gut instinct?" he asked, slightly curious how that worked. Wing wasn't one to bank solely on a gut-feeling; but then again, he didn't have animal senses bouncing around a human mind. There was no telling what all of Beast Boy's senses were telling him, even if he couldn't fully process it in a digestible manner.
"If your gut can scream at you, then yeah," Beast Boy answered, smacking his head back against the side of the van. "It took everything I had not to gut him."
"Yep. And all we got out of it was a potential lawsuit and massive reparations," Nightwing quipped. "Stabbing and stinging aside, it does send a message. It may save us more trouble in the future."
"Was being a hero always this complicated?" Beast Boy asked.
A dark look came over Nightwing's masked eyes, noted mostly in how his brow furrowed. "Worse," he answered simply. "If you don't set the lines the villains can't cross, then they'll keep pushing them until you do. And by then, it's usually too late. Better we draw those lines now and deal with the political ramifications, than risk what could happen later."
That peaked Beast Boy's interest. He would have asked what could possibly do that in Wing's case, but he could tell, whatever it was, that he wasn't up for sharing. He fidgeted with his fingers for a moment before looking back at him. "So what now?"
"Now… we wait. We train. We get you up to speed, and hope that we this will blow over soon," Wing stated. "The best we can do now is plan for your inevitable appearance on TV, and keep doing what we do." He cocked his head slightly in thought. "Although, I am curious about your upper limits."
"My wha' now?"
"That hybrid back there," Wing began, "you maintained control over it for the most part while still satiating your more primal anger. Do you know what you're limited to?"
Beast Boy just chuckled, somewhat glad that they he wasn't getting chewed out. "I can do something like that a few times over a couple days before it gets exhausting. I had to use it a couple time as Raven was finding me, and it tuckered me out pretty quick. But, mostly, it just hurts."
"Hurts?"
"I can't morph into those forms, so my body has to forcefully rearrange itself," he explained. "I basically have to break and reform. Literally."
Nightwing winced. "So… that back there…?"
"Yep. Completely ripped me apart," he answered, surprising the team leader with his nonchalance. "Depending on how fast I need to transform, the pain can either be gradual and subtle, or quick and massive. Sooo… can't really go slow in a fight."
"Shit," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. That was… a lot to process. More quality of information than quantity. "So every hybrid and the other miscellaneous beasts… breaks your body to turn into them," he processed aloud.
"In a nut-shell."
Nightwing sighed heavily at that, not sure what to do about that. "And how viable is it?" At the changeling's confused head-cock, he explained, "How often can you use it?"
"Once a day is safe, but I can push it to two," he stated. "But any more than that tires me out. I used it repeatedly a couple days ago, and I'm still recovering from it. Leaves me sore all over."
Nightwing nodded. "Well, makes sense. It's a helluva trump card, I'll give you that."
Beast Boy frowned slightly as he looked him over. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…." He gestured absently to all of him. "…That! You're not being an overbearing hard-ass. Just a regular one! And it's super confusing!"
Nightwing leaned back, staring absently at the van roof. "The team each had words to say to me about how I treated you. I realized what I was becoming. Who I was drawing from, and who I was becoming. And simply put, I didn't like what it made of me. What it made of "Robin".
"It isn't easy," he stated with a content exhale, "and I have to correct my own mindset far too often. I'm not just changing my thinking; I'm changing an entire mindset I've been living. It's not easy, and I slip sometimes, but I'm getting there. Only time, and a lot of effort will tell in the long-run."
Beast Boy thought this over for a second before asking, "Do you like the dude you've become?"
"Some of him. He gets kissed by his fiancée a lot more often," Nightwing admitted with a teasing smirk before turning his mask to the changeling. "What about you? Do you like the man you've become?"
"Some of him," Beast Boy repeated back with a soft chuckle. "But not all of him."
Nightwing nodded as he continued to ponder. "The team is holding me accountable, so as part of the team, I'd ask you hold me to that standard too. In turn, I'll do my best to keep my expectations reasonable." He pondered his next words carefully, trying to choose them without giving anything away. "I just want you guys prepared for how bad the world can be, and I'm not always sure if you guys are. Being hard on you guys is… about the only way I could show that I cared. Especially when I thought you in particular weren't taking things seriously."
"Trust me dude, I get that." He looked over at the changeling, noting the how heavy his green eyes looked at those words. He hadn't been the only one to see some things. They all had in their own ways he supposed, some having delved deeper and darker than others. "I worked with the Doom Patrol. I've seen some shit. And…." He swallowed heavily at the "tasted" memory that hit his tongue. "…I've had my hashes with some of that shit."
While curious, he didn't elaborate, he didn't ask, and he could respect that. "Yeah. When you think about it, it's pretty amazing that we became heroes in spite of it." He wasn't thinking of any event in particular. Just that a simple choice somewhere before could have changed so many things. Whether or not he went after the Clown instead of his mentor was one of those. Changes indeed.
The grin that erupted on Beast Boy's face was contagious, and Nightwing couldn't help how reassured it made him feel. "Yeah. We're pretty awesome that way."
He noted the fist-bump Beast Boy was offering to him, and he met it with one of his own. "Yeah. We are, aren't we?" They weren't back up to par yet, but… Nightwing hoped they could repair that bridge. 'One thing at a time I suppose,' he thought, resigning those choices to the moment-to-moment instead of dwelling on it ahead of time.
"Sooo, how we getting home?" Beast Boy asked.
Blink. Blink blink.
"You didn't think that far ahead, did you?"
"Nope," he admitted.
Beast Boy sighed, but smiled the next moment. "Looks like BB and Co. Taxi Service is in the biz. Where we're your last option, because all your other options are gone. We also charge an arm and a leg for our services. Think you can handle it?"
Nightwing's eyes narrowed at the challenge. "Oh, I'll handle it alright."
Five minutes later…
"Krraaaaaah!" Beast Boy shrieked joyously.
"OH MY GOAAAAAWWWWWWW–" Nightwings voice was cut off as the changelings wings buckled. And he was left plummeting on the back of a massive green falcon, fingers gripping into the plumage as his stomach trailed a solid twenty feet behind him.
"BEEEEEEEASSST BOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYY!" The Titan's Leader was shouting at the top of his lungs, even as the changeling started doing loop-de-loops and corkscrews.
Just outside a small coffee shop called "Paper Wings"…
The taxi ride had been silent. Despite the driver's enthusiastic and chatty attitude, after a small slew of single word answers, he had eventually taken the hint that she wasn't in the mood to talk.
It did make Morgan feel a little bad, despite reassuring him that it she was just going through some stuff (i.e. had just returned from a bank robbery, though she didn't tell him that), and that it was by no means his fault. She didn't know why she needed to reassure the driver. It had just come to her. Maybe because his cheerful smile was a beautiful thing right now, and she hated to see it diminish any because she was having a shit-ish day. Suffice to say, she left him a decent tip for his troubles.
And there she was, standing outside the simple panes of the door to her establishment. What she wouldn't give to find a nice, large rock to crawl under. If only it meant she didn't have to go in and see anyone. She held the strap to her shoulder bag a little tighter, pulling it closer to steel herself before pushing the door open.
The tell-tale ring of the entrance bell made her wince, wishing she could get away with this silently, but if she tried sneaking around through the alley, then it wouldn't do any good when people came looking for their paychecks. And of course, she'd have to tell them the gut twisting truth.
The very detailed image of that gun barrel pointing in her face flashed across her eyes made her stiffen for a moment before she took a tentative step forward.
"Oh my God, sweetie!"
Lauren blinked as she was completely encompassed in a pair of chocolate colored arms, the exuded all the warmth and comfort of said sweetness. She looked up into the eyes of her number one employee and the biggest heart she'd ever known. Naomi was careful to hold her cheeks, looking her over with all the care of a mother with her child.
It almost made her break down right then and there. But she could hold out a minute or two longer. She could be strong enough for that. She was the employer after all, not a child that needed coddled. Even if she really wanted to be right now.
"Are you okay? We saw the news about the bank, and– Oh honey, are you alright?"
"No," she stated with a simple honesty, her tone firm and shaking all at once; as though she were barely holding the foundation she stood on together. She pulled away from Naomi's embrace, looking at the small gathering of her morning regulars here to socialize, some of them staring unabashed, while others tried whispering in hushed tones. It was a poor excuse of an attempt on their part, but she couldn't blame them.
"I'm going to my room to cry, and do whatever it is normal people do after they've had a gun in their face," she stated firmly, "then I'm going to work on my homework. And then I'll take an afternoon shift before I go to school." Saying it out loud helped ground her in the moment, especially with so many people present. Was it sane? Probably not. Was it her only option? Pretty much. Was she ever going to deal with it probably? Pfft! No! That shit was getting buried ASAP. She was a public garbage dump of issues, and this was just another layer she'd sooner forget.
"Morgan, you shouldn't push yourself," Naomi protested, trying to catch the girl before she could disappear or shut-down completely.
"I'll get your paychecks to you as soon as I can. But the bank is going to be closed for a bit," she muttered just loud enough before deftly moving away and around Naomi before she could catch her. It made her gut churn to do that, but she needed space. She needed a moment or seven alone. She couldn't handle the pressure and anxiety of dealing with it while everyone else stared at her expectantly.
Naomi watched as Morgan made a beeline for the stairs leading to her apartment. She could only sigh as any hope of talking to and comforting her was ripped away as quickly as it appeared.
"Sooo… we're not getting paid today?" the barista manning the counter asked, one hand still on the dispensing espresso machine as a new cup of coffee was finely brewed. "Harsh."
Naomi's eye just twitched. "Boy! We both know you're a penny pincher and can pay rent at your place for the next three months."
"Thirteen months actually," he corrected, looking completely disinterested as he touched up the cup. "But whatever."
"I swear. Children these days." Naomi just shook her head as she went back to worrying about the boss lady.
…
Morgan could already hear Satoshi groaning and moaning from half-way up the stairs, his claws clicking as he paced back and forth in front of the door frantically. He probably sensed something was wrong. Sniffing slightly as she drew a hand across her nose, she fumbled with her keys for a moment, hand shaking when she realized she still had a reddish tint screened over her hand from where the blood had been. Even her pants had a sponged red stain from where the sorceress had been leaning against her.
She couldn't enter her apartment fast enough. "Hey sweetie," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm home."
Satoshi just looked at her, his eyes squinted in a way that said he wasn't buying it. Smart son of a bitch (literally) anyhow. He immediately began sniffing frantically along her pants and hands, batting at her with his nose while trying to assess the damage in a way only a dog could. His groaning and whining intensified as he found the blood stain and smelled her hands, his chops sputtering in kind as he orbited around her nervously.
"I'm fine," she stated, doing her best to smile, even as her vision began to cloud up. "I'm fine baby." She closed the door behind her before tossing her keys into the little bowl next to the door. The metallic clink against ceramic was like a trigger, and she slumped against the door, sliding down until she was little more than a heap in the entryway, her shoulder bag sliding off her shoulder to the ground.
She was, most definitely, NOT fine. And she was most definitely NOT going to cry.
And Satoshi was right there, easy for her to grab and hold. She buried her face in his neck, tears spilling out beyond her control. The crying degraded into sobbing quickly as the stress and terror caught up with her. Images of that damned gun in her face flashing through her mind made her shoulders tense, and she couldn't seem to ease them. But she didn't know if she wanted to.
That feeling of being held powerless. The feeling that she had to hide. The feeling that no matter how much she fought back, it was useless. That feeling of someone lording that power over her. Pushing her down. Spitting in her face. Tearing at her hair. Throwing bottles at her head. Cursing the very day she was born.
Violet particles were slowly lifting off Morgan's skin without her consent, defying gravity and floating outward like fae-lights, causing a forceful drone in the air as arcane energy leaked out unconsciously to defend herself from a more deadly threat than a gun to the face. Even if it was only in her mind. Her shoulders quaked in fear, her back pressing into the door as though she were trying to keep it closed from something – or someone – coming after her.
"Mmm-mm-mm," Satoshi complained, and she blinked, realizing that her arms almost had his head in a death grip.
"Oh, sorry," she whispered, quickly brought back to the present as she rubbed "the spot" under his collar. She needed a couple moments to collect herself as the feeling of being small and helplessness once again was slowly overridden by years of trained reactive memory as her fingers slowly began to independently trace symbols and geometric patterns with a lithe and gentle quality into the floor around her, serving to ground her focus and slowly… slow her breathing.
She was tired of being put in that position. Much longer, and she wouldn't have been able to control what spilled out.
"Damnit," she mumbled as she tried sucking up her runny nose, wiping her hand across her eyes limply. "This sucks."
Satoshi may well have said "There, there," but it came across as a groan as he rested his cheek on her shoulder, sighing deeply as her hand stroked down between his ears.
Her breathing was shuddered and deep, but it was stabilizing again now that she had at least gotten some of it out of her system. It was at this point that she felt a warm tap at the edge of her mind, asking permission to connect despite the fact that the telepathy hadn't been severed.
"What's up?" she asked aloud with a sniff, wiping the tear trails from her freckled cheek.
"I was wondering if you would like the company," Nol asked without asking. "I did not mean to grow silent on you, but I felt it was… safer… to observe before acting. And avoid potentially giving away your status per your wishes. I did not wish to disturb you while you vented."
"'T's okay," she answered, sighing after another deep breath as she pulled herself back together. Somehow, it was a lot easier with a voice in her head… as weird as that might be. "Can't really blame you for that." She continued to pet Satoshi as he laid down next to her leg, both of them staying there, right in front of the door.
"Says one who is unaccustomed to receiving assistance." She couldn't argue with that either. "Although, that is the reality of those who wield magic. We may not be solitary by nature, but namely by necessity. This is especially so in your case, since you're hording a trove of incantations, artifacts, and texts."
"I'm not hording!" Morgan protested aloud, forgetting her worries for a moment.
"You are piling your collection up with no intention of using any of it." She felt a mental raised eyebrow directed at her. "The definition of hording."
"Fine, whatever," she sulked. Reality sank back in, and it grew quiet once more. Still, it had been a good reprieve. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"Cheering me up. Or at least, attempting to," she answered. "Whether you meant to or not."
"If you desire, I would be happy to teach you."
"Huh?" she answered dumbly.
"I don't know if you noticed, but you were leaking the greater portion of your limited reserves of power. Completely autonomous and instinctive defense measure, usually comprehended…."
"Please stop," she whispered, fearing his line of thinking as she held Satoshi closer.
"…By those who have need to use it," he finished, leaving Morgan somewhat relieved that he wasn't asking further, though it was clear by his tone that he was cautiously attempting to comprehend her and her reactions. Possibly with a theory of two, judging by how he quickly held back his line of thinking with a generalizable statement. "I'm willing to help you retain control. Possibly teach you methods that allow you to utilize your power without having to bottle it up. Dangerous stuff, that."
Morgan's eyes were squinted in thought and contemplation as she processed that. "Why?"
"Until I find a way to become self-mobile, preferably back in my own body, I need something to stave off boredom," he answered, as though it were a trivial matter, hardly worth a footnote.
"You want to train me… because you're bored?" Her frown deepened, his tone from before not matching up with the offer now. "That's kind of a dick move. An honest dick move. But still a dick move."
She felt him shrug, though there was an undercurrent of genuine sincerity in the offer. "Your first instinct is to use magic to defend yourself. This is a good thing. But you quell that instinct with the fear of being discovered, only for it crop back up full-force, consequently fueled and enhanced by the magic you withheld. I could teach you methods to hide your use of magic. At least to normal folk. This will give you a chance to fight back without risking your anonymity."
That had her attention, causing her to look down at her book bag in curiosity. "Really?"
"Imprinting magic circles without drawing them is one method; another would be to draw invisible runes, as you have the uncanny dexterity, flexibility, and memory in your digits to not need to see what you're drawing. Either method would be perfect for you. Both, if we could work up to it."
She considered his offer for a moment before he spoke up again. "I would rather not sense you in such a position again. You seem more distressed then by a simple hostage situation, and from what I've seen, you're too good to be under such duress."
Morgan unconsciously brought her knees to her chest, Satoshi groaning as his lost his lap pillow, but he stood up and laid his head on her knee as she rested her cheek on the other one, almost nose-to-nose with him. "I'm not good. I've had some bad stuff happen," she stated solemnly, before adding quickly and sharply, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Your past is your own," he acknowledged. "But let us agree to disagree about your first point. We are not defined by a single phase of life, but rather by the whole that has lead into our current. Do we have an accord?"
Morgan had to hold in a wry chuckle as she turned his offer over in her head, still somewhat suspicious of his ultimate goal, but seeing nothing wrong with what he wanted, or what he offered. "I… suppose I could take a whack at it."
"Excellent," he purred happily. "Trust me Morgan of the House of Lassiter, I shan't cease until you are a Master in your own right."
"Joy," she muttered sarcastically, realizing that she'd just added another long-term aspect to her already crammed schedule without thinking. "Double joy. Just gotta figure out how I'm going to do that now."
"Then we shall have to work sparingly, and in short intervals. It will take longer, but in order to fit your schedule, it may be necessary. I've noted you to be a bit of a busy body."
"Geeee. Thanks."
"Any time."
Back at the Tower…
Raven opened her eyes from a brief (for her) meditation session. She'd focused mainly on fully repairing the bone and reattaching the ligaments, since those were the more damning injuries. 'I might need to take Cyborg up on those pain meds,' she thought absently, looking at the scabbed over hole in her puffed-up shoulder. The muscle and swelling could wait to heal. Until then, it would probably hurt until she fixed it up tomorrow; but only after a long nap. Beast Boy's all-natural pain-killer was still in effect.
She'd already changed out of her uniform before meditating, now dressed in in a tank top and pajama pants. It hadn't been easy getting the stupid thing off, and she'd finally had to resort to using her powers to ease her way out without worsening her shoulder.
"That's it," she muttered to herself with finality, groaning more from discomfort than pain as she laid back on her bed. "I'm taking a lazy day tomorrow. Maybe two." 'Crap. I sound like Garfield,' she thought, having to fight the impulse to turn over.
She was probably going to be concerned about that for a while. She wasn't sure exactly why it bothered her so much… or maybe she was since her emoticlones had been teasing her about it for so long… but a part of her worried that revealing their merging had damaged their relationship. He hadn't even freaked out about having a mental connection with her. It was the stupid merging that made things weird.
She draped her good arm over her face, forcing herself to sigh a little melodramatically to ease up her nerves. This was stupid. He was her friend, yes….
'Best friend,' Knowledge informed her dutifully without otherwise acknowledging her.
…"Best friend". He may never get over it, but she doubted they were simply going to stop being friends. Five years was a long time to know someone in her opinion, considering she never planned to live as long as she had. It was just a matter of when they would be back on "normal interaction" terms. Hopefully sooner rather than later. The last thing she wanted was for things to be awkward for an extended period of time.
"I wonder what Starfire would do?" she thought aloud, somewhat envying her friends easy and direct personality. Raven quickly regretted that line of thinking, knowing exactly what Star would do if her and Nightwing stopped talking for a bit because of this. "They'd capitalize on the potential shared stimuli to be nasty little delinquents."
She took a deep breath and put that matter on the back burner for now. With that, she let her other priorities come into focus in her mind.
"After I'm healed up, I need to get shopping. The kids will be here soon. … Speaking of which."
She pulled her communicator to her hand from the top of her dresser with her powers. The kids might have made the trek cross time-zones, so she wasn't worried so much about the time difference, as much as about them being exhausted as they came off their jetlag. She quickly scrolled through her meager list of contacts until she found the kids.
The 8-bit "Titan's Theme" tone rang for a few moments, and Raven was rewarded with an answer. "Mmmmm." She recognized the sound of Melvin groaning, and she couldn't help the small smile that came to her face the sound of fiddling could be heard before the screen turned on. "Hello?"
"Hey sweetie," she answered back.
"Mm. Morning Raven," the nine-year-old greeted tiredly, rubbing her eyes on the screen. Raven couldn't see much of her background, but it was well lit. It seemed modern though, so Raven assumed they were probably at a terminal, or something similar.
"Morning," she greeted back softly. "Were you asleep?"
"Mm-hmm," the little girl nodded, taking in a deep breath to reoxygenate her brain. "It was a long flight."
"I'm sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in before I go to bed."
Now mostly awake, Melvin was looking intently at the screen. "Did you get into a fight again?"
Raven winced slightly as she noticed the camera angle gave a perfect view of her bad shoulder. She'd been hoping to prevent any indication that she had been fighting, but it seemed that it was unavoidable now. "Yeah. There were some bad guys that needed their butts kicked. We won, but they got a couple good shots off."
Melvin was suddenly wide awake. "You were shot?!"
Raven winced again, more noticeable this time. 'Shit! I mean… crap!' "Only a little bit," she tried to placate, demonstrating said "little" with pinched fingers.
"How do you only get "a little" shot?! Your shoulder looks like one, big bruise." Yeah… Melvin was not happy. Raven somewhat cursed her ashen skin, since the bruising and swelling were more pronounced.
"Because I'm almost fully healed and there was no big damage. Besides, you should see the other guy." 'Not like there wouldn't have been, but she doesn't need to know that.'
Melvin's frown only deepened over the communicator at Raven's reassurances. "Are you sure you're alright?"
'Who's the mother now?' Raven thought affectionately. Not that she could blame her. The little super had had to take care of herself along with her younger brothers for a long time now. "Right as rain," she assured. "What about you guys? How've you been since my last call?" Raven laid on her good side, snuggling closer to her bed sheets as she fought off the exhaustion that was catching up to her. 'Just five more minutes,' she thought to herself. 'Just stay awake for five more minutes.'
"A lady picked us up," Melvin stated from her side of the communicators. "She wasn't very nice, but I think she was just cranky cause she had to hike all the way to the monastery from the train station. But I had her show me her ID after the monks checked, just like you told me. She was legit."
Raven nodded in appreciation before frowning. '"Legit"?'
"She wouldn't let Bobby onto the plane with us when we got to the airport though, even though he showed her that he was real. He was sad that he had to sit in cargo."
Raven smiled sympathetically. "Well, we'll have to try and make sure he doesn't have to do that again. Timmy and Tyler take the flight alright?" Poor Tyler probably didn't feel too good right now with his queasy stomach.
"Tyler got sick from the plane, so one of the nice plane ladies gave him a fizzy tablet so he wouldn't melt a hole in the plane if he threw up. Air pressure and speed would have destabilized the cabin."
R-Right. Inorganic matter consumption, highly acidic stomach juices, and the ability to lob either at whim as unstable shrapnel grenades, or as a hail of bullet rain; or in other cases, randomly whenever he felt sick. It was amazing they'd even let him on the plane now that she thought of it, considering the rather volatile nature of his powers. 'Oops.' That was going to be fun to deal with, but, no harm, no foul. 'Baby steps, Raven. Baby steps,' Temperance reassured.
"One of the plane ladies gave Tyler a blanket, so he just slept the whole time."
"That's good to hear, Melvin," Raven said, slightly worried about the younger boy's jetlag… and potentially dealing with a new "blankie" crisis. She let that worry fall aside for now as she let something else bubble up. "What about you? I can let you get back to sleep if you like."
As if on que, Melvin began to yawn. "Ahhh-eee, nah ty-urd," she mouthed out, rubbing her eyes with one hand while the other tried to steady her communicator. "Um fine."
Raven just smiled, half wondering what it would be like to tuck them in proper. She still had plenty to do before that, and she knew parenting wasn't a cake walk, and she knew that knowing it wasn't a cake walk wasn't going to make up for the experience. And parenting for super-powered children was probably somewhere around triple the effort. It would probably be worse than what she could conjure in her head. Still, it already felt like it was worth it.
"Get some rest sweetie," she stated. "I'll see you guys in a couple days. Keep Bobbie safe too, okay."
"M'kay," Melvin mumbled tiredly with a nod. "Ni'nite. Bye." And the screen cut out.
"Bye," she whispered with a smile. Soon. Very soon.
But until then, she would have a busy couple of days. One thing at a time; as numerous as those things were. With that out of the way, thoughts of Beast Boy inevitably began circling back around to the forefront of her mind. Maybe… maybe it would be a good opportunity to invite him as she picked them up. Both a surprise for the kids and something nice for him too. Maybe? Possibly? If nothing else, it might help to clear the air between them.
At least she had a half-decent child-sitter (because they weren't exactly babies any more, even if they were her "babies") to look after them for free. Even if they weren't on stable conversational terms, it didn't mean that he'd ignore her where the kids were involved.
'It'll work out,' she thought hopefully as she began to drowsily go to sleep.
'Right. Because throwing three children into the mix of a dysfunctional relationship solves everything,' Rude stated.
'Nevermind,' Raven amended. 'Try talking to him before hand.'
She was about to fall asleep when she groaned aloud as she remembered. "Right, pain-meds. Go get those now." She hopped up, already searching Cyborg out to get ahead of the pain before it started.
Authors Note: Don't forget to Read & Review! :)
Some biology and kinetic transference lessons while Raven gets her bullet out.
Nightwing and Beast Boy will be slowly burying the hatchet. I may have some regression (because shtuff like that doesn't change all at once), but ultimately, I want things to ease up between them. Politics are not my strong suit, but lets face it, the Titans are entangled in a web of political bullshit. They're catching cow sized gerbils with those webs!
I may or may not have hinted at some stuff with Morgan. Because I'm evil like that; bonafide, Doctor Doofenshmirtz brand E-VIL! Since she's the only character without a known backstory, expect some more little (read: BIG!) moments like that occasionally. Also, the pooch'ems is the bestest boy. And just like that, Morgan will be learning from Mister of Nol himself. (*redacted evil laughter*)
I seriously need to get some more Starfire moments in here.
As always, I love the kids! And I love the idea that Raven almost becomes a different person with them (not in a literal sense, but y'all know what I mean).
I second that I need to post a Eugene Thomas -centric chapter... That might be fun.
In Other News:
As always, thank you guys for your support! I'll be back to start Arc 3 after a while (I know. I just posted a chapter after almost disappearing for over a month, and now I'm disappearing again), but I'm gonna use that time to work on some other stories.
Tamaranean Translations (Original Translation):
None this time :(
*End of Translations
Once again, this is a Rough Draft, so if there is anything that needs, or is connecting in a weird way for you guys, let me know and I'll try to clean up the text. I do accept grammar and spelling errors too. (*A copy and paste, but hey, some things are worth repeating for you fine folk*)
As always (and I'll just keep posting this because its true), keep posting your constructive criticisms, as they will help me know what to look for in my future writings, and for the days I decide to do a hard edit. A writer should never stop growing, and I have no intention of stopping now.
Please Read and Review, and Private Message if you're shy or prefer your inquiries to be... well, private. Please indulge my curiosity, and let me know what parts you liked, what parts need work, and overall what you guys think about it :D I love questions as much as I love constructive criticism! If I don't have an answer to one or the other, it's something for me to contemplate and ask myself.
Upcoming:
Magicks That Bind - Arc 3: "Family Matters" – Chapter 14: An Opportunity to be Better than Ourselves (This is the one I came up with on the spot, but we'll see if it holds out)