{Author's Note:

To any scientists or ppl who like bats who may be reading this, I apologize. I know I don't use echolocation how it's supposed to be used, but, in my defense, it's for an alien so I'm gonna tweak and play with in ways it's not supposed to be played with.

Also this chapter is mostly getting the gang together, so sorry there isn't much symbiote action.

I promise, in the next chapter, there'll be more symbiotes! :)

Also, if anyone can help with this, plz tell me how to put spaces between paragraphs on this site. I tried, but it keeps going back to no space when i click save.

End Author's Note:}

Well, raise your cup to another day. Another sunny, fucking day.

Sinatra sipped at her glass of orange juice. Condensation slipped down her fingers with a welcomed chill. Her dark, chocolate irises stared blankly out at the bustling city beyond her apartment's impeccably-cleaned window. Across the street lay several apartments with open curtains. One woman cleaned a coffee table it the center of her living room. Another lounged against a green couch, watching some sport two apartments over. Had either of them looked up, they might have caught the dark-haired figure watching them from the opposite building. They'd have seen the dead look in her eyes as she stood there, clutching a glass of orange juice, eerily mute. A statue save for those dark eyes roaming over the apartments. Alas, they did not look up. And thus did not see the woman draw her checkered robe tighter 'round her waist before shuffling off. Sinatra trudged to the kitchen, where the stove's digital clock read 7:24. Curse her internal clock insistent on waking by 7.

Thoroughly disheartened by being up at such an hour, she did the only thing that could help.

She put down her glass of juice and looked for something to eat.

Rummaging through the fridge uncovered nothing. Neither did scavenging through the pantry. It wasn't till she checked the breadbox that she found something edible at last. An everything-you-can-eat bagel wasn't the ideal breakfast, but it would do. She popped it into the microwave and retrieved a bottle of raw honey from the cupboard above the microwave. 25 seconds later the microwave beeped. The bagel was brought out and split in two. Sinatra opened the silverware drawer to find the last clean knife in the entire place. She was in the process of spreading honey over the two bagel halves when her phone's default ringtone so rudely interrupted. Sighing, she put down the knife, left the poor food and hunted around for her phone. The sound seemed to be coming from the bathroom, so she checked there first. Carpet turned into tiled flooring at the bathroom door. Tan walls filled her vision. A small shower had its curtain drawn, and there, buzzing upon the lip of the sink, was her phone. It lay with its plain black casing facing up. Sinatra swiped it from the sink. The caller ID read Connection Al. She grimaced, then answered.

"Hello?"

"Sar!"

His voice was much too jolly, she decided. No one was supposed to be happy this early.

"What do you want?"

"Aw, Sar, don't be like that." He paused, perhaps in wait for an answer, but she didn't give any. "Remember that job offering I told you about?"

"Yeah..." Suspicion leaked through her voice. It was too early to expect good news...

"Well, they're opening. And my cousin asked for extra hands, so...!"

Early though it may be, sometimes good news was possible. "Does this mean I have the job?"

The smile was evident in his voice. "Yes it does!

Sinatra let a small smile grace her lips. "Wonderful. Thank you so much Al."

"Yeah now you're nice," he chuckled. "It's at this little place called Newshire. That city with all those powered people-"

"I've heard of it. Odd place to set up a coffee shop. You'd think it'd be destroyed in minutes."

"Well apparently the locals put all their energy into shows for us. There isn't supposed to be any fighting in the streets. You and the shop should be pretty safe."

'Should be.' What a certified relief.

Sinatra absentmindedly rubbed her throat. She turned from the bathroom and walked back to the living room, plopping down onto a small, soft couch.

"-so he's in a pretty big pickle right now as you can well imagine."

"Sorry, can you say that again? I didn't catch it."

A beat passed. "I said several employees pulled out when they heard he was setting up shop in Newshire. Didn't want to risk it, I suppose."

"What, not risk the chance of seeing powered people? I thought that was everyone's dream or something."

He chuckled. "Guess not. You still in?"

"Yeah." There was some excitement building at the prospect of actually seeing powers. Sure, Newshire was relatively old news, but she'd never been to it. Never had a chance or reason. Honestly, it felt like a small part of her childhood had been taken away.

"Great! I just got this news today, so please don't hate me, but, you'll have to leave today"

Today.

"...Sinatra? You there?"

Fucking today. First an early waking, now this. She pinched the bridge of her nose and grit her teeth. It took all her self-control to not let the full force of her fury enter her voice. "Sure. Yeah, I'll leave by tomorrow. Thanks again."

Nervousness crept into Al's tone. "No problem! I'll talk to you later. Sorry, about this, by the way..."

She shut her eyes. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

"It's fine. Talk to you later." Ending the call with a definitive button-pressing flourish, she let her head fall against the couch cushions and groaned.

Today...

Sighing, she got up. Took a look around at the tan, empty walls. No pictures hung. No objects adorned the place. Nothing, save for kitchen appliances, furniture, and a desk full of half-finished drawings and books showed signs of life.

Well, better get started.

By noon, she'd called an acquaintance, got a few boxes delivered, and was partially through packing. Old, well loved books sat in piles before her, ready to be sorted. Their smooth covers brushing under the pads of her fingers brought back memories of a cluttered room. An old, cluttered room, with posters of movie aliens and robots serving as beacons of inspiration. Role models, more than her parents ever were...

Sinatra gave a small shake of her head. It was enough to clear the cobwebs, enabling her to get back to packing. Nonfiction books here, fiction there, favorites on top. The last book to be boxed was Metallic Mesh Under Magic Flesh. Its paper-backed cover had paid the price of love. Despite Sinatra's best attempts at preservation, flecks of white decorated its edges. Yellow pages peeped out behind the cover, and time had eaten away its glory. But aside from the cover the pages remained undamaged, thus it was still perfectly readable, so she didn't deem it as needing a replacement. She hadn't read it since she was a young teenager, yet the plot was still fresh in her memory. A young woman lived in a town of constant rain. Something to do with magic, but no one knew for sure what caused the rain. Her fiancé was a naga. Most of her friends were monsters. In her world, some great event had nearly brought the world to an end, but the magic creatures managed to fix it. Jealous of being overshadowed by technology, they stopped people in the new world from getting ahold of information about technology from before the great destruction. They made sure no technology would work without the help of magic. The woman found a clue or something of the sort in her house, because it had been hastily put there in secret during the great destruction, and the person who did so died before retrieving it. It led the woman and the naga to a temple with a hidden, inactive government base underneath. She accidentally awakened a sentient robot. Turns out, the base was part of a fail safe that the government was never able to put into action. It housed hundreds of bots.

To the naga's rage, she fell in love with this bot. He awakened the others of his kind, and a war ensued between the robots and the fantasy beings who now ruled the world. Sinatra couldn't remember exact lines or events, but she remembered enough. Enough to make her smile. To feel warmth billow against her skin as she gingerly placed the book into the box. Its old cover felt like grain against her skin. That made her smile, too.

In another hour she'd finished packing. Two hours after that she'd loaded up the boxes into her car and called the manager of her current occupation to let him know she quit because sorry, but working in a town of powered people is better than working at a run-down antique shop in the city. No, her problem wasn't the actual work, it was the fact the shop was on its last legs already and the manager was in denial. He screamed at her till she just hung up. Done with that idiot for good, she didn't feel any regret at pulling out on him. She dropped her phone into her purse and slung the whole thing around the back of the seat. Then, putting the car into 1st, she glanced at her face in the mirror and saw with some surprise that the bags under her eyes looked a little less baggy, and the light in her eyes seemed a little brighter.

She didn't dare hope, but the road ahead pushed it at her anyways.

Thus she thought of the apartment left behind, of the job left behind, and smiled.

"Order up!"

"No no, this isn't a restaurant. You don't say that here. We call out their names, alright idiot?"

Splicer's tongue darted out and swept over its teeth. It slowly cocked its head at Euphoria to show wide, innocent eyes. With a shit-eating grin, it opened its mouth, inhaled (even though it, like all symbiotes, don't need to breathe), and shouted "Order up!"

Euphoria whacked it with a tendril. There wasn't much more she could do with all these people around. Well, there was... But those things entailed an angry Sonar, the arrival of news cameras, and a lot of teeth. Splicer never lost the grin, even as she swept over to its station and yanked the cup out from under it. Turning it over gave her the name Peter.

"Peter?" she called out.

A boy lingering near the door snapped his head up. Rushing over did nothing to help his already frazzled dark brown hair. A backpack slung over his shoulders jostled with every step. He arrived at the counter slower than how he started. Wide, dark brown eyes stared at the symbiotes. He was like an owl, never blinking. Frozen, yet there was a noticeable gleam of smarts within those orbs. A few seconds passed between them. Euphoria held out the coffee closer to Peter. The boy glanced at it, then back up at her and Splicer. "Thanks," he hurriedly mumbled. Carefully extracting the cup from her black claws, he gave the aliens a quick, awkward smile. Euphoria smiled back and waved her tendrils. Its taunting intent seemed lost on him, however. In fact, it did the opposite. Some of the fear left his eyes, and he opened his mouth. It hung like that for a second. "So... So do-"

Ringing from his pocket cut off his words. Fumbling around the drink, Peter pulled out his phone and his eyes widened at whatever was on the screen. "Shoot, sorry!" He cried, rushing out of the store at an even faster pace than he'd first come in with. Euphoria would have raised an eyebrow if she had any. Peter... The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. He might have been a tourist they'd seen before, she supposed. Then again, if that were the case, he wouldn't be so afraid the second time. Asking Splicer crossed her mind. It'd moved away during her interaction with the boy. She turned around to find it. It was a few steps away, just staring out the front window with an air of curiosity and a tilted head. Not even its tail swayed. Euphoria sent out a tendril to nudge it. Splicer looked at her, head still tilted.

"Do you know anyone named Peter?" She asked. It went back to looking out the window. Slightly exasperated, Euphoria marched to its side. She rapped her knuckles on its shoulder, got nothing back but a flick of its tail.

"I've seen that man," it mused.

What man? Euphoria followed Splicer's gaze. People bustled around. Several were taking pictures of their companions or the buildings. A couple sat at the shop's outer tables. Splicer nodded toward the right. Redirecting her focus, Euphoria scanned the area. Some kids, some buildings, some...

Was that a suit? A suit in a town where getting dirt, fire or some unwastable thing on your clothes is nearly a guarantee?

She squinted. Yes, yes it was. A suit belonging to a tall man. He loitered at the corner across the street. Appeared to be trying to sink into it, if anything. The outline of his body was barely visible. Euphoria could just make out grey, maybe black hair, but the rest of the man was obscured in shadow. People passed him without looking.

"He was on my street, when I left to see Torment a few mornings ago."

"Don't you mean when you left to hold Torment up and stop him from going to his job? That last morning?"

Laughing, Splicer leaned down to her level. "That was the tourists!"

Euphoria crossed her arms. "Oh, yes, because you completely didn't encourage poor, sweet Torment to give into their demands."

"How often do we meet happy tourists in the wild? It was a rare chance." It chuckled. "You should have seen the kid. Cute thing!"

"I'm sure it was to you." She got back to work, sweet, pretty tone less than impressed, forgetting about the man in a suit who she assumed was just another tourist.

Its tail lazily swished. "I bet he would have liked you.."

She froze, tendrils cupped around a pot of sugar. A pregnant silence permeated the air. Oh, Splicer better not...

"Maybe he'd have called you his old bald grandpa too! Just like Little Jimmy!"

Screw news cameras and Sonar! Euphoria whirled around. Her tentacle reeled back and flung the sugar at Splicer's head. It didn't even try to dodge, too busy laughing its high, scratchy laugh. The pot hit the side of Splicer's horns, sending shards of glass everywhere. Clumps of sugar flew through the air and splattered against everything in sight. The walls, the floor, the counters, everything. Splicer paused, took one look around, and busted up again. Euphoria shoved tentacles into every drawer and cupboard she could find, pulling out anything that could be thrown. A tendril wrapped around a pot of honey and transferred it to her hand. Pulling her arm back was finally clue enough for Splicer. It dropped to the floor as she threw the honey. The pot sailed over its head and crashed into the wall. Sticky residue dripped down in slow streams. Neither symbiote noticed the sudden and hurried emptying of the coffee shop. By first throw, everyone sitting at the inner tables had taken one look upon impending doom and decided coffee was not worth it. They pushed their chairs back, grabbed their pastries, and fled. One brave soul took a picture as Euphoria threw the honey.

Ducking behind a table, Splicer whipped its tail in a daring manner. Euphoria screeched. She grabbed a pile of flimsy cups and hopped the counter. Splicer raced across the room, managing to avoid all of her attacks. For now, they were unaware of everything except the insult that needed to be rectified and the fun of bothering others. The girl with the picture left while she could. Once outside, she uploaded it to the town's website forums.

At the edge of town, Torment was picking up a delivery for the shop. The delivery people refused to go any further on account of "The one time we went in that cursed place, our truck burnt down because some idiot threw his fireball the wrong way!"

The symbiote didn't bother arguing. Once he wrapped his substance around all the boxes to take them away, he gave the drivers a curt nod and turned away. He made his way back to the shop with some dread, a little fear, and a lot of exhaustion. What he'd expected to find was maybe some broken pots, or perhaps a list of complaints. What he hadn't expected, was coming back to find a crowd had flocked outside the shop. Gathered by the picture uploaded to the towns forums, they watched and cheered as Euphoria duked it out with Splicer on the street. Torment watched them for a minute. Didn't really process it, just watched. After his brain fully sunk into a bottomless abyss, he walked inside the shop, put the delivery down, and stared at a drizzle of honey on the floor.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," a voice drawled. "You got this, isn't that what you always say?"

The voice was directed at Merlin, a short guy who's white shirt was currently clutched between anxious fingers. His blue eyes shakily stared up at Drew, the manager, looming above him. "Y-yes," he stammered out. "I still believe it can work-"

"And I believe it will never work. It never has. You've tried the same plan for two years now. Want to tell me how far you've gotten?"

Merlin stayed silent.

"It has gone nowhere," Drew continued. "Nowhere. I cannot let this continue. I cannot let you continue."

"I'm sure if-"

"You're fired."

"But, sir-!"

Drew held up a large hand till Merlin's sputtering died down. "You have till tomorrow to clean out your place."

No amount of pleading would make Drew change his mind, and Merlin knew that. Resigned to his fate, Merlin forced a nod and let Drew escort him out of the office. When the manager returned, he walked back to his desk, sat down, and, with a deep breath, took out a pile of papers from one of the desk's drawers. He placed them upon the desk.

"So sorry about that. Now, where were we?"

"We were about to discuss my report on Newshire, sir." A young man with salt and pepper hair sat across from Drew. He'd watched as Merlin came in, asking for more resources. Watched as Drew denied the request, questioned Merlin's progress, and fired him.

"Ah, yes. Did you bring it?"

The man reached over and placed a file upon Drew's desk. Drew hummed in approval and picked it up. He set it to the side. "Very good, I will look at it later. Right now, I want an account in your own words. Do you think you can pull this off?"

"Yes, sir. There is an optimal amount of people. The weather is agreeable. People get hungry, thirsty, and with the right location, we can be right in the center. During my recon, I found a mostly empty neighborhood we can use for our experiment. I guarantee we will be able to finish the experiment, and save it, before it's destroyed."

"How long?"

"Six months."

"That is a dangerous wager. None of our previous attempts have even lasted half as long as that."

"I'm aware. This time, sir, it will work. If it does not, I will bear that burden, but I believe we can do this."

Drew shuffled the papers on his desk. "Six months. If it doesn't work, or if it gets destroyed, it will fall on you."

The man nodded. "I expect nothing less."

"Hey, Ethan! What's up?"

"The manager agreed. I'm all set."

"Great!"

"Not quite. Most of the employees pulled out or "got sick" when I told them about the aliens. They aren't coming."

"… Oh."

Ethan rummaged through a pile of boxes. "Is that Sinatra girl still available?"

"I think so. Want me to call her?"

"That would be appreciated, yes. One thing you can not do is tell her about the aliens. Can you do that?"

"She might already know if she's looked at the town's website."

"If she doesn't know, don't say anything."

"Aw, that sucks. Fine. Good job on getting Drew to agree. Good luck man."

"Thanks." Ethan hung up and pocketed his phone. He opened more boxes to double check their contents, then closed and sealed them for the second time. Getting the manager to agree was only part one, and now that he'd succeeded, Ethan reminded himself to stay focused on part two, which meant actually moving to Newshire for the time being. Previous to the manager agreeing, Ethan did a cursory check of the town a week before, and only got back yesterday. There'd been no way of knowing whether the manager would agree or not, so, in cautious preparation, Ethan had organized his belongings into categories without actually putting them into boxes or piles. Instead, he'd shifted things around a bit to make objects in certain categories a bit closer to each other. Now the day was here, most of the employees quit, and he was about to get on a plane for a task he wasn't sure would succeed. In other words, it was a regular Tuesday.

The next hour saw him leave his house in the hands of a good friend, Ane Butch, who had taken this house-sitting job before and arrived on the other side with stellar marks. Soon enough, Ethan was on a plane to Newshire. The skies were clear and he received little to no turbulence. Clouds, white clouds, powerful in their weight, beautiful in the eyes of those who gazed upon them, floated by outside Ethan's little window. Cars raced on the ground in every which way. They were ants. Just bugs. Nothing else could fit so well, encompass so much of their characteristics from up here, as the word "ants". The layout of entire cities could be seen, yet Ethan turned away from their endless smoke and mirrors. He pulled out a book he'd brought, preferring small pages to small cars. Endless words, to endless buildings.

Fiction was always so much better than reality. It had happy endings, after all.

A dark-skinned young woman sat on a train. All she could hear were the muted sounds of a powerful engine, chugging along with great, billowing breaths and powerful rumbles that vibrated through her legs, under her skin and into her very core. Vibrant green meadows passed by too quickly to be truly seen. Only flashes of brilliantly, elegantly simple wildflowers lent themselves to the eyes of whomever gazed out the train's windows. Clear skies cheered good luck with friendly, fluffy smiles. The woman watched it all fly by, wondering what the train looked like from the outside. Surely it must make a lovely painting. Relentless in its journey through meadows, fields of flowers, and finally to a small town.

The woman's purple eyes took in brick structures outside the town's train station. Their size reminded her of cottages more than actual buildings. Red-slated roofs sat atop one story houses, which were spread out a good distance. Tall reeds of grass, both crackling brown and healthy green, filled the streets and surrounding land. In distant interest the woman kept an eye on those mulling around the station. New passengers boarded, occasionally bumping into those leaving. Goodbyes or hellos were made, though less of the latter. She didn't know how long these stops usually took, since she'd never been on a train before. So far though she liked it. There was a certain charm surrounding the concept. Even more charm to actually do it. The train carriages were a trifle stifling, but nothing she couldn't handle. It's not like she had another choice. Train was the only way into Newshire aside from a few roads for delivery trucks. So if a trifle stifling is what must be endured, she will endure with grace. Even horribly stifling would have been fine. Would have been worth it, for the chance to get away from her previous dwellings.

The image of an older woman draped in pearls and loaded with gems came into mind. The old woman's sharp cheekbones flashed as she jutted her chin, glaring down at a daughter who was shameful enough to not want everything that was given.

Who wouldn't endure a lot for the chance to start anew?

Fools.

It was a few more minutes till she began to shift around, wishing to feel those powerful rumbles under foot once more. Too bad there wasn't fresh fudge carted around on these things. She took a breath and opened her black purse. Engraved upon its clasp was the name Jannicca M. Roy. A slim book was brought out. Its perfectly kept cover read Complete Collection of Famous Poetry by Lee Wraith. She started reading, and kept reading as the train began to move again. She was still reading as more meadows passed by. Still reading, when, two hours later, a mighty mountain's top met the horizon. Only when the train stopped and the conductor called out "You have arrived at Newshire. Have a wonderful day" did she stir. The majority of the passengers got up in sync. Most were families, holding onto kids and teens who eagerly awaited freedom and excitement. Jannicca draped her purse across her body and quickly stepped out of her seat before others could rush past and block her in. Walking with an empty, disinterested face was enough to stop most from bothering her, so she did just that. Upon reaching the train doors she attempted to hurry, and would have made it off had a young girl, surely no older than 25, bumped into her. Jannicca lifted her chin, quite literally looking down on this woman who's short stature stood a half head below. The girl stared up with blank eyes. Dark, wavy hair framed an oval face, who's full lips were partly ruined by their asymmetrical shape. The right side was pulled a tiny bit above the left. Jannicca waited for her to apologize and step back, but the woman did neither. Rather than back down, or even acknowledge the accident, she quickly slipped past Jannicca and down the train steps. Jannicca stared open-mouthed after the disappearing woman. There wasn't any time to be insulted, however. People jostled her from behind, caring not for personal space. Forced to move by such manners, she went down the steps with slow, maddeningly careful steps, head lifted all the while.

What greeted her was closer to a city than a town. The buildings didn't go above three stories, in fact most were either one or two, but they were closer together than that red-roofed place she last saw. Much closer. All the buildings had normal roofs and regular, if not somewhat cramped sizes. But they were well kept, at least in this area. The streets were much longer than she'd ever expected. They branched off and twisted around, but didn't break into different streets so much as just… continued, in a sense. Suddenly she was very glad she'd checked the town's layout and list of residents online.

People rushed around her with no discernible purpose or direction. The ground could hardly be seen under all their feet. Benches lined the sides of the station. A little unsure on where to go, she walked over to one and sat down with hands carefully folding atop her lap. She opened her purse and plucked out a rose gold phone. It unlocked upon Jannicca entering a long, complicated password. Bringing up the town's map did little to help Jannicca's confusion, but it was a start. Ethan said to go to Frost Avenue. According to the map, it stood about ten minutes (walking speed) from the station. She looked from the map to the buildings, the streets, then back to the map. Brushing a strand of white hair behind her ear, she stood up, hiked her purse to feel the comfort of its strap, and, not allowing any hesitation to enter her steps, walked towards the street like she knew exactly where to go.

As it turns out, she did end up knowing exactly where to go. Frost Avenue ran next to a large theater with a line of food shops to the right. Once there, she called up Ethan. Luckily, he answered on the second ring.

"Ethan? This is Jannicca."

"Hello. Good to know you are in town. I appreciate you staying."

"Of course, anything less would be breaking a promise," she let out a rehearsed laugh. "I'm on Frost Avenue. Where, exactly, is our designated place of meeting?"

"There is a blue ice cream shop, called Pintos & Pines, to the left of the large movie theater. We'll meet in twenty minutes. I'm not certain everyone has arrived, so we need to give them time to show."

He couldn't see her, but she nodded. "Of course. I guess we'll meet each other soon. I just want to say, from the very bottom of my heart, thank you. This is an amazing opportunity you've provided for me."

"It is. Let's hope it goes well."

His blunt tone was a surprise and, quite frankly, insulting. Smiling a fake smile, she responded in an even tone that clashed with her cold, steel eyes. "I hope the same. Farewell, for now."

Ethan hung up, leaving her staring at crowds of people with nothing to do. Nothing, that is, except get to know the town she'd now be living in. An antique's shop stood a few feet away. A frozen yogurt place hugged its side. The only type of shops she could see on this street were either little snack places or larger snack places. Frozen yogurt was alright, but the true miracle would be finding a fudge shop. Cravings didn't go away after the passing of a few short hours. Jannicca decided that, with as long a street as this, fudge was bound to be somewhere. She walked into the crowds, hoping her phone's map would suffice. Asking directions (even for a town she was completely new to) was less than desired.

Besides, everyone here was dressed in casual clothes and almost zero make-up. They would hardly know their way around if they couldn't even keep tabs on their own looks.

Sinatra found herself grinning at Newshire's sunny streets. It was the kind of weather that said "Get your sunscreen out, 'cause I'll never stop shining!" This alone was completely better than the near-constant clouds of Washington, which said "Be ready to get drenched, cause you'll never have sun for more than a day!" Sinatra shook her head in mirth. Behind her were two suitcases. Lugging them around was more difficult than anticipated, but it was fine!

The suitcase caught on something and jerked her back. Her hip bumped into the handle, and her arm stung, but it was fine.

So fine.

She yanked one of the suitcase's back wheels from a patch of something sticky. She'd have preferred to keep everything in boxes, but that didn't pan out when halfway into her journey she'd pulled up the town's website and found out train was the name of the game. Oddly enough, cars could be rented once inside the town, but couldn't leave the town. They could only be bought by someone if that someone actually lived in Newshire. Sinatra planned to buy one after Ethan showed her the houses he bought for everyone. According to him, they were in some old neighborhood near the edge of the city, where hardly anyone lived. Private, safe, cheap.

Her phone buzzed. Unlocking it showed her a new message from Ethan that read "Come to Pintos & Pines in 20 minutes. If you are in Newshire, please respond back with a Yes." She sent back Yes, then brought up the city map on her phone. Pintos & Pines sat a block away, equating to fifteen minutes from her location to there. She sighed.

Another buzz went off, and a Yes flashed across the screen. Group chat eh? Alright. Useful, Sinatra supposed. The sky smiled down as she put the phone away, picked up the suitcase's handles, and headed toward her new job.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. Only two people replied to his group message. Two people. Three, including him. The numbers were less than satisfactory. He glanced around the shop he was in. Pale blue walls, numerous circular tables, red and white striped floors. Everything from the cat clock with its swishing tail and wide eyes, to the flimsy striped hats employees wore screamed old people parlor. The place was empty aside from him and a zoned out worker at the register. His phone read 5:20, five minutes short of meeting time. No food awaited them, for he thought it better to let them choose their own flavors rather than guess what they may like. Plus, it might make them somewhat more agreeable to the assigned house.

Mere minutes later the shop's doorbell twinkled through the air. It was a nice contrast to the creak of the door's wood. Ethan looked up to see an approaching woman, who's flowing white hair brought a curl of disapproval to his gut. Despite the hair, she was far from old, and Ethan heard his inner voice say she shouldn't be doing anything to speed up the process. Neither wrinkle nor blemish stained her dark skin, and those contacted purple eyes were sharp in every way. A modestly stylish trench coat clung to her frame. Across her shoulders swung a black purse. Ethan stood up and pulled a chair out. The woman nodded thanks as she sat down.

He got back into his own chair, folded his hands, and leaned forward. "Jannicca, I presume?"

"The very." Jannicca playfully smiled, crossing her legs and sitting straight as a board. A faint curl of white hair brushed over her forehead. "It is an honor to meet you," she murmured.

Before she could get another word out, the doorbell rang again. Clunky footfalls mixed with an odd rumbling covered the creak of the door. Jannicca looked over in middle annoyance. Within moments her expression changed to shock and she abruptly lept out of her chair with surprising grace. Ethan scowled, but Jannicaa took no notice. Those sharp eyes were locked onto the stranger, very much a hawk to the newcomers mouse. Full lips twisted down till Jannicaa's face was an ugly parody of its previous beauty. Ethan glanced at the newcomer, eyes squinting as he rummaged for a reason to Jannicca's unprovoked fury.

The new girl was nothing special. Two suitcases rumbled behind her. A thin, tight-fitting jacket opened to reveal a plain black shirt. Black sweatpants poofed around her legs. Dark brown hair shone streaks of red in the sun. It was pulled back into a messy braid. Freckles dotted the ridge of her nose and speckled off to the sides. Sea-blue eyes watched them with a certain disinterest that, to Ethan, suggested she had smarts, but lacked the drive to use them. Ethan figured he would test her later, after everything got set up and rolling. The girl's eyes swept over him and onto Jannicca, whose mere sight made the girl hesitate for a split second. Jannicca crossed her arms, lifting her chin up as the girl crept closer.

"Fancy meeting you here," Jannicca purred.

Getting up again to pull out another chair, Ethan kept silent, simply watching as the girl took care to give Jannicca space as she sat down next to Ethan.

"I'm sorry," the girl muttered.

Jannicca's eyes narrowed further. "Well, isn't that an apology." Her nose wrinkled, clearly not impressed by the girl's stout words.

"What is going on?" Ethan interjected.

Jannicaa turned her gaze on him, not lessening her anger one bit. "This… woman," she spat, "very rudely knocked into me when I was getting off the train. Instead of apologizing, or letting me pass as I was the one closer to the steps, she just ran past me. I dare say she hardly even noticed I was there."

"Whatever happened before you stepped through that door is not important," Ethan told Jannicca. "This is a new beginning, and I need us on the same page. Together. So put your grievances behind you and have a seat." He gestured to her chair. Her purple orbs flicked widely between them in open-mouthed disbelief. When neither offered anything more, she sat down with a resigned air of defeat, curling her hands together on her lap and lessening her scowl. Ethan turned back to the new girl. "Sinatra?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry about the trouble."

He waved off her words. "Just make sure it doesn't happen on the job. Now, there are several things we must discuss. Namely, the house, and...," Ethan's words trailed off into uncertain silence. "Jannicca, you already know what I am about to share."

Vague fumes of anger still radiated off her stiff pose. Those hawk eyes stared at Ethan, and she nodded once.

"Sinatra," he started, hands clasped together, elbows on the table, "what do you know of the residents?"

It was a second before she answered. And when she did, it was with a note of confusion. "The locals have powers, such as fireballs, ferrokinesis, and plant growth. Along with numerous other abilities. I checked the town's roster before coming here."

"Good. So it's safe to assume you know about the Klyntar?"

"Of course," Sinatra exclaimed. She tilted her head in question. "I heard about them before I even came here. They were on the news for winning some competition, don't remember what the competition was for, though."

For the first time upon meeting them, a smile showed upon Sinatra's face. It was a small, restrained thing, but it was a smile nonetheless. Jannicca wrinkled her nose at it. Nodding, Ethan bent down and retrieved his briefcase, which he placed upon the table with hardly a sound, delicate as the action was. He thumbed open the clasps and brought out two keys. Sliding one to each employee, he closed the briefcase and set it on the floor again. "These are your keys to the house. I didn't want to give them to you earlier given that, had Sinatra been unaware of the aliens, she might have opted out." Sinatra's eyes widened at the suggestion. "Many other employees did quit because of them," Ethan explained. "It is a relief you two have not. But the day is young, and you may change your minds when you hear what I have to say next."

They leaned forward, Sinatra's face returning to impassiveness and curiosity sweeping aside Jannicca's anger till they had matching looks of intensity.

Ethan stared each in the eye. "They run a coffee shop. Right down the street." He pointed one meaty finger past Jannicca's head. "Our coffee shop is going to be mere minutes away. Ours, and the aliens, will be the only coffee shops within several blocks."

He paused, letting an ominous cloud hang over his words. He could tell by their faces they already knew what he was about to say. Sinatra's eyes glowed with an intensity that rivaled her anger. Across the table, Jannicca's mouth was down in an oddly fancy pout. She sat back, straight without being stiff, and folded her hands upon the table.

Ethan gave it another moment. Then, with an air of accepted death, he confirmed their thoughts with his own words.

"We'll be in direct competition with flesh-eating aliens."

The moon, full and shining, stared down in its solemn way. Full of endless patience. Full of comfort. Stars sparkled against the infinite black, also patient, yet imbued with hidden playfulness. Far below it all rolled a lively meadow with skittering critters and numerous insects all flitting about in search of food. Their tiny bodies danced across blades of grass, and swept over hungry birds. In the distance stood a town. All lit up, all alive, taunting the night with its lack of sleep.

Strolling through the meadow were two tall, otherworldly beings. With nothing to block it, the moon cast its beams upon their inky forms, bathing them in silver. One of the forms, the taller one (by ought but an inch) looked up. Their pinkish-red was bared to the sky. The color of inner flesh. "Is it a lovely night?"

"Yes," their companion answered. "It is."

"That's nice." Sonar's deep, smooth reverberations of a voice were quieter than usual. They stopped walking, staring into a sky, into a moon, whose gaze would never be returned.

Torment waited. It was not long before Sonar started walking. Comfortable silence descended upon the pair. Mice and snakes and other manners of creatures remained well aware of their presence, and knew to stay away. The aliens heard them run. Together they traveled, never more than a few feet apart, never closer than a few inches. Chirping crickets performed their pleasant song for Torment. He didn't think of anything while he walked. Not the shop, or the town, or even the other symbiotes. Everything was a pleasant fuzzy nothing.

Sonar tilted their head, just a little. "Nothing's happened in a while."

Torment trilled in laughter, remembering the mess Euphoria and Splicer made just earlier that day.

"Of course there's been the usual stuff, such as those idiots. Fighting in the street?! One of the tourists could have been hurt." Sonar shook their head in disgust.

He trilled again, fondness coloring his warbles. "It would be more concerning if the tourists started fighting in the shop. They'd be apt to do more damage to Euphoria and Splicer than those two could dish out in combined effort."

Sonar grinned and their tongues wriggled. "Isn't that the truth. But..."

Torment glanced at them when they didn't continue. He stopped walking, and waited, figuring it best to let them talk without pushing it. "Tourists come, every day. Things get destroyed. But it's all stagnant." They tilted their head further to the side. "It feels like I'm waiting for something. Nothing has happened for a while."

"Waiting for what?" Torment asked.

Sonar looked up at a moon they couldn't see, and, in a way that gave an impression they were talking more to it than to Torment, answered, "I'm not sure."