"So... you're back."

"Yes, I had some issues to deal with, most of them my own making. Got a little sidetracked… Got a little lost."

"So what made you come back? We're not exactly the most welcoming group. Last time wasn't bad, but most humans don't come back after that sort of experience."

"Well, I realized I was the only one who's ever been able to interview your family, especially your husband. That was something I really should've…"

"Cashed in on?"

"No, that's not the word I was looking for."

"Sorry, I can be cynical. I'm just not usually keen on being recorded."

"And I really appreciate you taking the time to do this."

"Well then, let's get it over with, Mr. McAuslan."

[==========================================]

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain pelted my sedan as I sat in the darkness inside the car while checking my directional notes. GPS tracking was nonexistent, despite not being in the boonies. Unsurprising, since the same happened the last time I was here. I had my camera, my notes, and my wits. That was about it. It wasn't like I could've brought something to defend myself, just in case. All three of them(and to be honest, probably their kids, too) had me beat physically, and half of them could probably smell a gun a mile away. Not that I was qualified to carry one of those things in the first place. I'm not that kind of gung-ho reporter. Then again, they didn't attack or enslave me the first time I came. However, all good journalists knew to never assume; what was left of them, anyway.

The whole neighborhood was eerie, yet strangely inviting. It was almost like hearing about a seance performed by some people in college who believed themselves to be witches. It was tempting out of sheer curiosity and crossed fingers that something interesting might happen, except the lines had been blurred with this recent generation and witches very well may be a thing. Still, I felt watched. I was an outsider, and for now, I'd been permitted entry into this place.

I looked out my passenger window and noticed only the front porch and one downstairs window was illuminated. I'd only been here once, but it was a vivid memory. Even in the dark, I knew this was the right place. I opened the car door and strode toward the front door. The wind and rain were almost sideways, and almost blew me onto the porch. Now sheltered from the rain, I removed my poncho and knocked on the front door.

I heard a click, and then the door opened. Unlike last time, I was greeted by one of his… wives? I suppose she was. She seemed like someone out of a fantasy, but was presented as uncomfortably real. Her black skin contrasted her judgemental amber eyes. A pair of fuzzy ears protruded out of the top of her head. Her forearms and lower legs were covered in a black fur, coming to an end with clawed digits. They were still fingers, just more hair and pointy bits.

Speaking of pointy, she greeted me saying, "Evening." As she opened her mouth, I noted a set of larger-than-usual canines. Oh, and her eyebrows were on fire, but that strangely came last in my size-up. She appeared to be sizing me up as well.

I replied, "Hi. I don't know if you remember me."

She said blankly, "I remember you." She then glanced to the storm behind me and said, "Quite the squall that blew up."

"Yes, it took me by surprise. Good thing I keep a raincoat in my car."

"Very good."

I eventually asked, "May I come in?"

She mulled that over for a second, then said, "Sure. Drink?"

I hung my raincoat on the hook and replied, "No thanks."

The hallway opened up into an average living room. I took a seat in one of the chairs faced away from the television. The mamano spread out on the couch with one leg on it and the other on the floor. Her right arm was on the arm of the couch and the other rested on the back. She immediately projected an aura of calm and casuality. After we performed the introductory exchange at the beginning of this interview, I switched on the camera and it formally began.

I asked, "Where's uh…. where's everyone else?"

"They had to go out for a bit, but we knew you'd be here sometime around now, so Autriel and I played rock-paper-scissors."

"Oh, so Mr. Richard is gone? It's just you?"

"Yes."

I shifted in my seat. "Oh."

"Why so tense? It's just me."

"Well, I…"

Her voice took on an inquisitive tone. "Oh, you're worried that the human is gone. It's just you and me now. You're afraid because there's no one here to rein me in. No leash and collar."

"Of course not. Well, I mean… I got your play on words, by the way."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you comparing me to a dog?"

Backtrack. "No, but I assumed you made the-"

She raised a hand. "Don't worry. I made that on purpose. I don't take myself that seriously. Even though Autriel's all, "Gusoyn, have a sense of pride!" and everything. I understand this may be your first time face to face with one of us. I don't pay attention to the news, but you're one of the only reporters who's taken the effort to understand a mamano family. Magic-wielding demi-humans from another world arrive, and they all strangely decide to only speak of human women."

I nervously chuckled. "Humans are a funny bunch."

"Gotta agree with you there. Do you have any questions for me?"

"I suppose I do. So… what do you think of human civilization?"

She exhaled. "That's a really big thing to upack. Give me something more specific."

"Well… how about communication?"

"Okay. People's ability to talk to each other is huge now. I can't even… well I can't wrap my head around it. It's got it's negatives and positives. Like, one of my cousins' mate was a carpenter. He was really good at making cabinets."

"Right."

"Hellhounds are more collective, so we tend to stick together, in something similar to a village. I knew everybody in the village, and everybody knew me. Everybody else knew the cabinet guy. He was the cabinet guy and he was reputable. If he did a bad job, everybody'd know it within a week. Nowadays, any madman can sell a cabinet on places like Gumtree."

"Good point."

"On the other hand, it's very handy to learn stuff, if you know how to use it right. For example, Autriel learned about her legless cousins over in Asia. She's got a theory that mamano species have been distributed based upon the local culture. She thinks it's all about how humans perceive us."

"What do you think?"

"I don't. I leave that sort of stuff to her."

"Ah. So, what's family life like?"

"I enjoy it. It's sort of the thing I've always wanted, but didn't think it'd end up this way. It was a rough ride getting here, either way."

"I must ask, who's parents are the boy's?"

"Oh, Aurelio's adopted. He knows this, but it's not bugged him at all. We've been open about it since the beginning."

"How would you describe how he and his sister's interact with others and each other?"

"Well, you could always ask him when he gets back, but I guess we could get into that."

[:TRANSITION:]

The following is a hypothetical scenario to better help the reader understand the situation; a piece of fanfiction, if you will.

A twelve-year-old boy sat on his throne. It was actually a varnished mahogany chair lifted from a condemned furniture store, but the authority of whomever sat in it was universally recognized as absolute inside and outside the room it inhabited, which was a respectably-sized treehouse. The room's appearance didn't look very much like Hollywood's interpretation of a throne room, but everyone inside knew it was one. The walls may have been plywood and the floor shag carpet, but the outside of the building was insulated with scrap cardboard and then camoflaged. They weren't barbarians. An open window on the eastern wall let the winter afternoon sun in and provided some warmth. A whiteboard with some doodles took up half of the opposite wall. This was where they all planned their more elaborate schemes that required more than two steps. A "no smoking" sign was mounted opposite of the doorway, to signify that any fire in this wooden box in a tree would be disastrous. Open flame of any kind, except for the hellhounds' uncontrollable eyefire, was strictly banned.

Aurelio surveyed his kingdom, and found his subject count to be around twelve. They were all hanging around in the house, doing various things next to the space heater or the more "thermally inclined" members of The Den, as everyone in the neighborhood referred to it. Many were just talking, mostly of the latest episode of some trendy show that Aurelio paid little attention to. There was also an intense rock, paper, scissors game going on in the corner over a chocolate bar. A boombox sat in the windowsill, playing tunes while one of his sisters practiced her rapping skill.

Aurelio stroked his chin, pretending to be a philosopher king. On his right was one of the few girls outside of his family he respected and considered his friend. Her name was Merida, was the same age as he was, and really knew how to get stuff done. Her physical appearance started with a pastel green skin color, a pair of horns on her forehead, half a foot of height on everyone else, and a refusal to wear shoes. She had a scar under her left eye, which he wished he had because that looked really cool. What was even cooler was that she never said how she got it, even when asked. His current theory was that she fought off some bully who had a knife. She had a good build, and it supported that idea. Despite her tomboyish appearance and short hair, one of the conditions of her joining was to be able to play with her barbies in The Den, while snacking on onions(her favorite). Aurelio accepted. A small amount of damage to the kingdom's coolness factor was worth the trustworthy member and right-hand man. She was currently sitting on the floor and talking to herself as G.I. Joe and Barbie(wearing custom-made fatigues) were prowling through the jungles of Vietnam, hunting communists. This was nothing new. What Aurelio never understood was how Barbie could use magic and why they had to get married at the end, every single time. He hoped puberty would help explain things for him. Barbie did look funny with an M16, though.

The person on his left was there after quite a bit of controversy. Aurelio knew that balance was a good thing, so he needed to combine some brains with Merida's brawn. While G-mom's kids were more brawny, his sisters under A-mom were known for being sharp, if a little full of themselves. He attempted to get his sister, Kreia, to serve as left-hand advisor, but there was an uproar of having people in the same family in leadership positions. Instead, his siblings served effectively as the group's not-so-secret police. On his left was a boy who he also respected. He had a buzz cut and always wore some kind of sunglasses, unless he was wandering about at night. He was also blazingly smart, to the point where Aurelio thought he could usurp him if he really tried, but was more comfortable as second from the top. When it came to planning, Aurelio would get the big picture and dream it up. After that, his second would make it happen. Truth be told, Aurelio had difficulty remembering his name because it was Japanese. He nervously called him Buzz the first few times because of the hair, and it wasn't disputed. Buzz was the only person in the kingdom who had a nickname. Aurelio also personally related to Buzz, and the feeling was mutual. Both of them were the eldest and only male child in their family. While Aurelio was adopted, Buzz was the only child of a single father, before his father remarried to an elf.

Aurelio still felt for Kreia. She was his sister, after all. He created a new position of Bookkeeper for her to occupy. While not technically an officer position, it came with it's own desk and bookcase. Kreia kept a log of the group's exploits, monitored authority patrols, and managed the library with the ferocity of her own personal hoard. She would allow books to be donated or borrowed, but not bringing the book was an invitation to suffering. She knew where everyone lived and was a dangerous shot with a pellet rifle. That being said, the library contained various tomes of wisdom, such as guides to making paper airplanes, chemistry books with all of the "parental guidance suggested" pages tabbed, and Beowulf, edited by Kreia herself to make it even more awesome.

Most of the people here were in middle school, with some in older elementary. The younger kids were usually the siblings of older members who tagged along. Rarely all of Aurelio's siblings were present. Today, Kreia and Hevestuli were there. People came and went, but the headcount remained seven on average. With five more here today, there was plenty for a meeting. He signalled to his announcer on the right that he had something to say.

Barbie finished murdering the filthy Viet Cong soldier, declared G.I. Joe to be her first and only love, and walked off with him into the sunrise. Back in reality, Merida rose and yelled "Listen up!" The game of Rock Paper Scissors, now twenty-eight rounds in, ended abruptly.

A motley and multicolored crew of individuals expectantly turned to look at Aurelio. He looked back, waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside. About a third of them were human; children of the few families that hadn't moved out when the mamano moved in. Half of the rest were hellhounds, offspring of his G-Mom's pack when they moved into the abandoned houses. Those after that were from families that slowly coalesced when word spread that the neighborhood was a mamano settlement. Those mamano species were the type whose habitat were forests, or at least that's what the biologists who came by occasionally said. Speaking of, Aurelio's temporary tinnitus subsided and he began.

"Kreia's been on the lookout, and noticed some more things spying on us. Anybody know why?"

There was some mumbling, but nothing positive. Aurelio looked to Buzz. He shrugged silently. That was the end of that. Aurelio wished he had some kind of spy. He sort of did, but his sister Andrea was the only one who could even attempt illusion magic. Even then, her illusions had a tendency to attack the mind, rather than simply trick it. The police weren't exactly a threat, but they had a tendency to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and they were rarely understanding. He never got what the problem was about going into someone else's yard without asking first. Aurelio looked out the open window and said, "Toss it in, Helen."

There was no response. Aurelio leaned toward the window and yelled, "Hoot!"

The tree branches rustled, and a white quadcopter was tossed into the room by a swift claw. It landed with a clatter on the floor as the last of it's propellers snapped. Everyone stared at it. Aurelio grabbed and silently inspected it. The entire thing was covered in scratch marks and the battery compartment had been ripped out. The camera was intact, and that was the most telling part.

"While Helen was flying last night, she saw a drone flying toward the neighborhood and grabbed it."

Someone piped up, "Did it see anything?"

Aurelio responded, "Nah. Helen got it before it got inside, but that's the… uh… third?"

Buzz interrupted, "Second."

"-second time this month they've sent one of these."

A mantis in the back asked, "Who keeps sending these?"

Aurelio shrugged, "I dunno. Police, the CIA, those dudes in tuxedos and sunglasses, the freemasons..."

The mantis replied, "Freemasons aren't real."

"Yeah they are. I read about them."

"No they're not."

"Yes they are."

This derailed the conversation for a few minutes, until his sister Hevestuli said, "At least the drones are loud as hell. Otherwise they'd take pictures of us and sell 'em to weird people for money."

Kreia replied from behind her desk, "Language."

This garnered a sneer and brief growl from the hellhound. Aurelio said, "She's right, but we've gotta… we've gotta get 'em back somehow."

Again, the mantis said, "I tracked a suspicious man the other day. He had his phone out and pointed it at everything."

"What happened?"

"I stalked him for a bit, then jumped out of the bushes and knocked the phone out of his hands. Then I did the hissing and clicking thing you guys don't like. He ran off scared."

"Did you take his phone?"

"Yes, but… sort of in two pieces. I accidentally speared it. Even if I didn't, we wouldn't know his passcode anyway."

"Kreia here can unlock phones… like… fifty percent of the time with magic."

The dragon made a smug grin that confidently stated that there were no secrets with her. However, she asked, "So, what do you think we should do, brother?"

Only A-mom's kids called him "brother". It annoyed him, but no amount of bribery, threats, or pleading could stop them. Regardless he said, "I actually don't know. I was hoping we could come together and think of something."

Everyone did, but the only coherent suggestion was "overthrow the government", unanimously decided by the hellhounds. As usual, they were the opposite of docile. Eventually, somebody asked, "Hey Aurelio, isn't that reporter guy coming tomorrow? I thought your family didn't like news people."

"Not usually, but he's cool. Why?"

"He's a… he's a reporter person. Aren't they supposed to know things? Y'know, dig up shady business?"

"I guess. I'll ask him when he comes. In the meantime, I'll ask A-mom to put down some magic wards and stuff like that. She's pretty good at it. I'll get back to everybody on this, but this is gonna be our new Cause."

There was some mumbling in the crowd. The word "Cause" was one that carried a lot of weight among the members of The Den. Causes were long campaigns that usually involved everyone in the gang and were more than simply pastry theft or petty harassment. That's why, to everyone, the word Cause was capitalised, to the point where teachers frequently scratched their head as to why their students would constantly write it that way. Last time a Cause came to a close, it'd involved a geologist, several hundred dollars worth of garden gnomes, and a nasty letter from the EPA.

Still, everyone seemed excited and in good spirits. Now that Aurelio had concluded, they returned to talking to each other, comparing theories on who was spying on them. Aurelio also noted that some of them would occasionally glance back at him. Specifically, only the mamano were doing this. He asked Kreia for the official club logbook and a pencil. She handed both to him. He began doodling in it to, A: Annoy Kreia, and B: Pretend he was doing something important while he watched the mamano girls glance back at him.

This started happening around last year, and more mamano began doing this, except for his siblings. He'd be lying if he said it didn't unnerve him. He'd have to ask his dad about this later, or maybe the moms. Either way, he threw this in the steadily-increasing "growing up" pile.

[==========================]

Cut back to the living room of Aurelio's house. I sat alone in the presence of a still-enigmatic mamano, even after these years. The full video interview of her is available on my website. My questions were interrupted by a noise at the front door. Gusoyn said, "Looks like they're home."

As the door opened, I heard a male voice say, "Okay. Wait, do that outsi-"

I could hear brief chaos and several people sputtering as a light spray of water flew in all directions. There was a brief pause, then a few children at once said, "Sorry, dad." Raincoats were removed, and there were many sets of footsteps running upstairs. Two heavier sets made their way into the living room, where I was.

The first was an average man, an unusual sight in this area. There was always one in these types of families, but rarely more. He was followed by a draconic woman, her wings protruded from under her shoulder blades, still dripping a little. However, I noticed she spent no time toweling herself. That was explained by the tendrils of steam rolling off of her and her clothes. Evidently, she'd found a more efficient and hands-free method of drying off. Efficiency seemed to be her personality, what little I knew of her. Truth be told, I knew little of any of them, other than Richard. He turned to me and said, "Oh hey, good to see you again Mr…." He squinted.

I replied, "McAuslan." He continued, "McAuslan! Yes. Like the book. Sorry for not being present, but the rain caught us off guard. At least Gusoyn was here to let you in."

"Yes, she was very pleasant to talk with."

Then I felt something. Richard's expression didn't change, yet I suddenly felt probed. Something reached into my soul, looking for an emotion. At first, I reflexively shut out everything and flinched slightly. The probe became more aggressive in it's posture and search. It felt like that one time I was given a polygraph at a police station, but compressed into a split second. Instead of truth, however, this test was looking exclusively for fear. Was I afraid? I suppose I was at least a little. Another human entering the house and saving me from a one-on-one situation with an unpredictable was more relieving than I allowed myself to put on. I felt as if rapid-fire questions were being directly inserted into my mind, and I gave answers before I even knew what they were.

It stopped as soon as it started. Richard smiled at me and said, "I'm glad you had a good time." While I was dazed, he asked, "Since I went last time, how about you two?" Gusoyn looked at Richard, shrugged, and maintained her posture splayed over the couch arm. Autriel looked at me and said, "I suppose so. It could be enlightening."

Richard moved upstairs, the dragon found herself a leather chair, and I found myself in my previous situation, but this was getting out of hand. Now there were two of them. The intimidation factor had subsequently doubled. Neither of them were in any way small people. The dragon stared at me with her amber eyes. After a long period of silence, she said expectantly, "I'm assuming you have questions for us? Or perhaps we could turn things on their head and ask you questions first. That would certainly be an interesting twist."

Finally recovered, I said, "Sure. Ask away."

Autriel said, "Excellent. Did you do anything before this occupation?"

"Yes, I was a paranormal investigator. I did that for a few years, before moving on to journalism."

The dragon surprisingly flinched slightly. I had a minor panic attack, wondering if this would strike her ire. She replied, "Ah, ghosts. The spirits here are much different on Earth. I'm still getting used to them myself. Their elusiveness and unpredictability make them… unnerving."

"How so?"

"Well, the ones back home were far more open and were more bent on…"

Gusoyn interrupted, "Sucking your dick."

"Unfortunately accurate. At least you could see them coming."

Gusoyn chucked, "Heh. Coming."

The look of sheer disappointment from Autriel was beyond words. I suddenly remembered my entire education in journalism and attempted to regain control of this conversation. "I've heard it was a tumultuous time getting here. Are there any times you thought you weren't going to make it?"

Simultaneously, they both said, "Yes.", then looked at each other surprisedly.

"When?"

Autriel said, "That… that's actually very difficult to speak of. We both had a fairly sheltered beginning, so fear is something we had to come to terms with very quickly."

"What got you through it?"

Gusoyn said, "Lack of choice. We persevered or… it would've been bad."

"I heard there was an attempt to found a mamano-based country inside this one."

Autriel replied, "There was one. It didn't end the way we imagined it at the start, but I think it went well. Besides, I've dealt with an ethno-state before. I hated that one, and it felt wrong making another one. Of course, I didn't recognize it immediately."

"Ah. Was Charlottesville your last attempt?"

"Oh, no. We'd figured that out beforehand. That event was the old order's last stand here."

"That would explain things. People are still talking about it to this day. Personally, I'd seen nothing like it. Nobody else has, but it's been some time since humanity's seen a siege of that scale."

Autriel continued, "It was organized as well. The first time the mamano had the element of surprise, the second time was traumatizing. In the final, both sides were prepared. Humans had their armor and artifice. Mamano had magic and physical superiority. As you know, both Richard and I are more sensitive to spiritual energy, and both of us can still feel it, even out here."

"Feel what?"

"The echo. Battlefields or any emotional events spread out their echoes and can be heard, if you listen for them. Sometimes you can tell the outcomes of them without even being there."

"What does this echo say?"

"It says a lot, but it's very difficult to put into something coherent. The fall of old aristocracy, the final loss of a sense of superiority, the last cry of help to an unresponsive god; much is in it. Even now, I'm still trying to study it, as it gets fainter with the passage of time. It's replaced with a newer and fresher background, but that background still retains the memories of the old and has kept many aspects of it. Does anything of what I'm saying make sense to you?"

"A little. I just don't see it."

"These are things even mundane people can sense. All it takes is perception. The sensitivity to the ebb and flow of spiritual energy just makes it easier. I think that's it. Gusoyn, have anything to add?"

Gusoyn awoke from a semi-stupor. "Nope. I appreciate what you pay attention to, but I only deal with people who personally affect me. Besides, what a person presents on the outside matters, most of the time. There's not enough time in the world to go digging for buried secrets inside people. The vast majority of them aren't worth the effort. That being said, there are a few people who are, but I can only count them on my hands."

Autriel added, "Speaking of watching people. We've spotted a few small… buzzing things with cameras attached to them trying to fly over this neighborhood. Naturally, we've destroyed them before they could enter, but we were hoping you'd know who keeps sending them our way. They're quite annoying."

"I have my theories, but for legal reasons, I'd like to turn off my camera before I say them. Any last words?"

Autriel sighed, "You guys should've listened to Peter Gabriel more. That man was a prophet."

Gusoyn made a raspberry.