"-of which one of my apprentices used to wield a cloud, similar to a dust storm but much more overwhelming to the surrounding crowd and advantageous to the crafty wielder. My sweet Raven, to the roguish peasant, this matter that surrounds us is simply nothingness, uselessness, and emptiness; words that contradict one another." He waved a gentle hand over hers, allowing the billowing smoke to flutter the ends of his pages. "Emptiness isn't nothingness as there's always something there. Emptiness is simply a perception of nothingness, but unlike nothingness, 'tis full of potential and future. Hands like these," he encircled her fingers gently, careful not to make any sudden contact with the work of art, "can make emptiness beautiful and dangerous and desirable, something incapable of being useless. You see, the peasants around you till land sunrise to sunset, always making the loam, rich light, and gentle streams into barbaric legumes and cattle food. But you, you can will a being out of thin air, life out of emptiness, something so precious from just yourself."
"Something so feared and hated and cursed cannot be precious," she murmured behind her hood.
Beast Boy found himself stuck with his flimsy hands clenching and paper lips creasing as he said, "The shadow that lives within you isn't darkness for I, Malchior of Nol, need not know such a thing. Do not fret when the being slithers out black as protective onyx for he who gave us light and purity is sorely limited. When you weave smog, force, and terror out of thinness, naught is wasted." A pillow of air passed through his throat as he approached the deer, fingers relaxed and particular. "Allow me to teach you an old spell that need not waste any light by temporarily," he paused, "repelling it."
He could hear the rowdy students shuffling about behind a misty curtain of black. They, all of them, surely saw him, dive headfirst into the chaos; he didn't know if he cared much at the moment as he fumbled with the chain he found still tucked into his breast pocket from the jacket on the floor.
He grabbed for his, noticing the absence of his dress shirt and necklace. Beast Boy rested his elbows on his wobbly knees, still weak from fainting. Robin's stern voice could be heard from the other side of the curtain, curt and cold as he directed the feverish students out of the gymnasium. The authorities were coming soon. Beast Boy had to get up.
Did he remember to pack painkillers in his jacket? Of course not. Cy's Emergency Kit™ was far too bulky to fit comfortably in any of his pockets; he had obviously left it in his room, alongside a collapsable arm cast, a laser cutter, and that horrendous goop Cyborg slathered on him after Beast Boy glued himself to the common room ceiling—don't ask. Doubtful, he still groped for his jacket again, blindly searching for a tiny bottle as he laid his head against the snack table.
He didn't feel inclined to look around to see if anyone had been brave enough to come to take a look at the freak show. Beast Boy wanted to pretend to be just Garfield for one more moment before he'd inevitably have to return to his gargantuan tower with the alien, robot, and sidekick, never to return to school again and have people stare at him like he was worth the hassle.
He pulled out a thin disk, approximately the size of a large potato chip. Feeling delicate yet being weighty, Beast Boy immediately recognized the compact mirror and reminded himself that he'd have to face the fact that he couldn't date a civilian if he was Beast Boy, the superhero, the prankster, and the runt.
As he absentmindedly opened it, he hummed in confusion at the sight of nothing in the mirror, no shattering reflection. Weird. He brought his face closer, swearing as he backed away immediately at the sight of a black entity lashing out.
Footsteps were approaching. He snapped the mirror shut to take a look at a stiff Rachel; her fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress.
Her eyes darted back and forth between the mirror, his hands, and the expression on his face, and she let out a small breath she had been holding in.
"Do you know," she meekly asked, "about…"
"'bout what?"
She touched the center of her forehead, the same place he had scratched accidentally before.
"Yeah." His head grew hotter by the millisecond as everything around him turned into a glossy yellow, hellish and distant. There was a sudden burst of energy, that wasn't there before, simmering into his extremities, making him want to throw the snack table or bust a wall down. Then he realized how hot his skin must've been as a cold and calculated hand clutched his exposed wrist and covered forearm.
"Come here," she ordered, reaching a hand towards his head. She hummed a plain note as the world around him grew foggy and dark, soft and comforting.
Garfield could see his parents emerging from the distance, laughing as they ran towards him in the lush savannah. The grass blew a melodic whistle of nostalgia and childhood, weaving through his hair and grubby hands.
"Stop-"
"-it!" He gasped out as the world suddenly became bright teal, red, green, and white, and everything became more real and more icy, and instead of thinking he was breaking out from under the ice, he knew that Raven attempted to worm her way into his mind again. "Stop it," he repeated.
"I was just trying to hel-"
"Didn't I tell you to stop messing with my head?" he growled quietly, resisting the urge to rip up his jacket.
Rachel looked at him plainly, tilting her head impassively. Her reaction or lack thereof didn't surprise him at all. It was most definitely her, back to her old ways once again.
He took a deep breath, inhaling some of the smoke before looking straight into her eyes. "Malchior taught you this?"
Her lips parted and her eyes widened as she froze from playing with her fingers. "How did you know?"
So it was true.
"Malchior taught you this," he repeated, this time as a finite statement. The name struck a chord in his brain, making him tense up as he recollected the ferocious form the paper man took in their last stand.
He heard a northwesterly wind bring murmurs of evacuation and superheroes; as he left Rachel in midst of the fog, he failed to catch the look on her face.
Beast Boy numbly stared at the ground as he walked out the emergency exit doors, hovering a hand over his eyes as the bright street lights and clamorous students, still there to see the famed Teen Titans up close and personal. As he emerged through the crowd, he glanced at his flushed green skin kissed by the taste of evening sun and fury. He silently sighed to himself, contemplating even sticking around for the aftermath of the fight.
A mass of murmurs arose in the already bustling crowd at the sight of the changeling, making his fingers shake as he placed a hand on his robotic friend's shoulder and asked him, "Is it over?"
"The fight? Yes."
"No, I mean Garfield and Victor."
Cyborg kept a still face as he continued checking for injuries on Starfire. She flailed her legs around as she sat on the edge of a bench, clearly avoiding the eyes of her cheerleader friends. He slipped into the form of a spider monkey, hooking his lithe tail on her dangling leg as he crawled onto her lap. She giggled as she wiped her bleary eyes before holding the small creature in her hands.
"I am going to miss this," she said softly, looking up to the mechanical man, "It is a shame we cannot continue our endeavors here."
"Brighten up, Star," Cyborg said as he began wrapping her floor burn in gauze, "I didn't think we'd last long anyway. Sooner or later, someone woulda caught on."
"Is there really no way we can continue our studies here?" She frowned, stretching her arm and allowing the changeling to perch atop her shoulder.
"This is the only school we could find that would let us do such a thing. Not many folks want a freak like me walking 'round." Beast Boy let out a squeak as he leaped onto Cyborg's and gave his metal skull a punch. "Beast Boy, stop. You know it's true."
Beast Boy rolled onto the ground, shifting back to his human self as he glared in the distance at the image of Robin calmly exiting a conversation with the police. He jabbed a finger into his leader's chest. "Whatchu' so happy about?"
"Yeah, your girl is crying and our plan has been foiled," Cyborg agreed, crossing his arms as his portable medkit restricted into his torso.
Robin gave the alien a comforting pat on the head as he said, "Nothing's been foiled, Cy. Everything went according to my plan."
"Plan?" Beast Boy asked quizzically, tilting his head to the side.
"You didn't think I'd risk our identities for something as menial as school without a backup plan, did you?"
Cyborg stiffened, backing away slightly as he said, "You didn't tell me about this plan."
Beast Boy's ears jolted to life as he heard a familiar voice reassuring the paramedics that she was perfectly fine. He whipped around, tensing at the sight of Rachel rushing towards him; in his mind, he pictured her caped in blue and gliding across the pavement.
He fled the coop, scurrying away as a chipmunk before taking the form of a falcon. As the cool evening air around him batted at his feathers, he peered down to see the blank look on Rachel's face and a peculiar green-skinned redhead hidden atop the roof.
I am quite sorry for such a long hiatus. The truth is that I had chapters written and was working on this fic, but simply was too lazy to upload.
I shall continue updating this fic regularly as I have no intent of discontinuing or abandoning this story.
-Catisa~Orsilla