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Jump City Super Mall. 1157 Hours, 26 JULY 2014

With enough space to fit several average-sized malls, the Jump City Super Mall was an extensive complex with a labyrinthine design that had almost assuredly been designed by somebody suffering from a complexity addiction. It housed an astounding variety of stores, both chain and local, with services ranging from its own bank to a laser tag arena. Sunlight streamed through large windows overhead and reached between the bridges and walkways of the upper floors to dapple the deepest realm. Large pots with artificial plants were placed at regular intervals along the floor, creating the illusion of life that was encouraged by the natural looking fountains, designed as brooks and waterfalls. Seasonal music emerged from the hidden speakers, celebrating the festivities though with summer's presence, it was bare of decoration.

Standing in front of one of the many map stands and attempting to decipher the color-coded diagrams was a slender girl in weathered cowboy boots. Sienna brown hair was arranged in a tomboyish cut, short and lightly ruffled. Between crimson-painted lips, she held a dull penny that was looped about her neck on a black string that passed through a hole over President Lincoln's head. Her white shirt had a wide collar, slipping over one rounded shoulder, and it skirted above the hem of her jean shorts. Freckles dotted her otherwise smooth skin and she was lightly tanned, familiar with the sun's golden rays. Raggedly cut shorts, which ended just after her pockets, squeezed her broad hips, molding to her shapely buttocks that drew numerous longing stares that she was not oblivious to.

As she felt another gaze slide past her hips and down her comely legs, she glanced about to see a handsome boy with tousled blonde hair standing next to a short girl who was talking animatedly. Catching his eyes, her lips pulled into a smile, and he flushed, guilt flashing across his features before turning back to his girlfriend. Dropping the penny from her lips, the brunette abandoned the map and sauntered across the floor, drawing even more stares with the unnecessary gyration of her hips as she moved. She clasped her hands behind her back, intertwining her fingers. The young man tried to keep his eyes focused downward, but as the short-haired girl drew near, he could not resist the urge to look upon her again.

"Hey, handsome," she smiled, leaning forward slightly. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Um, 'scuse me? That's my boyfriend you're talking to," scowled the girl, possessively hooking her arm with his.

"'Was,' sweetie. 'Was' your boyfriend," she corrected. The young man was frozen, mouth hanging open as the strange girl reached up to stroke his face. She continued, "Besides, he's been cheating on you. Not with me; this is our first meeting. But he's got a little honey on the side. Don't you?"

"Yes," answered the boy automatically only to blink, confused at his admission.

"B-brad?" gasped the girl on his arm, her grip loosening.

"I've been seeing Emma," he continued, his tone monotonous.

"And why don't you tell your precious snookums there when was the last time you saw Emma?" pressed the strange girl.

"I said I was working last week on your birthday. I wasn't. I was at Holly's house," he replied obediently.

"Ooh, Brad," clucked the short-haired girl as Brad's girlfriend gaped at him, tears starting to gather in her eyes. "That's just cold. Still, doesn't it feel good to get that off your chest?"

"Yes," he answered dutifully.

"Why-why are you doing this?" sobbed the girl as she pulled away from him, her gaze one of revulsion.

"Aww, sweetie," pouted the short-haired girl, patting the other's cheek consolingly. "It's nothing personal. I mean, for what it's worth, he does actually like you. But, at the end of the day, he's just a horny little boy who wants more than you can give him."

Slapping away the mockingly compassionate hand, the jilted girl delivered a surprisingly powerful blow that felled her abruptly ex-boyfriend. As he blinked in surprise, she sniffed as she held back the tears and fled the scene, leaving the astonished boy to the short-haired girl who chuckled mischievously. She leaned down, stroked his cheek, and his gaze fell to the penny that dangled from her neck, growing cloudy again as he watched it dance upon the string. His slack jaw closed and he rose to his feet, eyes strangely out of focus as the girl giggled excitedly and clapped her hands at her latest acquisition.

"Ooh, Brad, you and I are going to have so much fun together," she beamed. After a moment, she shrugged and admitted, "Well, it's actually more like I'm going to have fun with you, but now we're just getting into silly semantics. Now, come on. Just follow the Sway."

As she delivered her directives, she turned and strode along the row of shops while Brad followed his newest object of obsession, gaze focused upon the sway of her hips.

Titans Tower. 1202 Hours, 26 JULY 2014

Raven watched from atop the roof of Titans Tower as a green blur raced through the obstacle course, dodging through the flames to save the civilian. He elongated into a slender serpent, slithering between the spinning pillars with stout limbs, the second mannequin secured. Alone, and as far as he knew unseen, he progressed at an expedient rate, fully awake and devoid of the desire to entertain others. His flow between forms was expertly paced and he did not slow, moving even as the lines of his shape blurred into something else.

Robin had dedicated himself to the search of the escaped Kraken though Starfire ensured he did not become obsessive again. With familiar ease, Cyborg had replaced his lost limb and had since been conducting secretive modifications. When asked about them, his only response was to rub his hands together in glee and give his well-learned, from years of hearing it, maniacal cackle. Then he would slip away to his room to continue his work, and Raven to expect Beast Boy to pester her once again. Except he was strangely absent from the common room, and though she held out as long as she could, her inquisitiveness eventually overcame her considerable willpower and she had set out to find him.

After ensuring that he was not in his room, she had proceeded to the roof, planning to spot him from afar upon the rock he often turned to for introspection. Instead, she had heard the distant sounds of the obstacle course and found the changeling going through its challenges. Since her initial viewing, he had run through five more times and as he completed the latest round, he rose to the console and terminated the course, its equipment disappearing back into the scenery. She could feel his fatigue and weariness, accompanied by a deep satisfaction as he strode down their beach where gentle waves lapped at the shore. He walked into them until the water pushed gently against his knees before disappearing, barely breaking the surface.

Even when he adopted an animal form, she could still sense him though it was through the haze of an animal's instincts and desires. She had pondered an innocuous manner in which to strike up a conversation on how greatly his thoughts were influenced by his forms, but had never found what felt to be the right opportunity to pose her inquiry. Focusing on the distant waters, she watched a shadow move swiftly beneath the surface, darting through them. It suddenly swelled, disrupting the water before diving beyond the range of her vision. Lifting from the ledge she stood upon, she drifted downward, coming to alight upon one of the rocks that dotted the shining sands. She studied the ocean's surface, plumbing its depths in her search for her friend before there was a ripple and a verdant ridge breeched the surface in the distance.

Slowly, with streams of water running down craggy hide, a brachiosaurus emerged from the ocean, ponderous footsteps surging forth. As he drew closer to land, his form shifted into a diplodocus and he thundered onto the island, thin tail creating cracking sounds as he whipped it through the air to remove the water still rolling from his heavy scales. He scratched at his ear with his hindlimb and sat for a moment before loping over to a rock bathed in sunlight upon which he promptly morphed into a cat that seemed to melt upon the heated stone, basking in contentment.

Floating towards her still unaware compatriot, she noted the lazy dance of his tail as he stood, padding about upon the rock as though searching for a more comfortable niche to settle in. Finally, he flopped back onto his side and stretched in the sunlight, his purr evident even from her position in the air. Hovering several feet above him and out of his rays, she mused, "You take your cat-naps rather literally."

"Rae, I wouldn't have made that joke," he said, not stirring from his resting position. Suddenly, he shifted into his human form and sat up to face her, grinning and snickering, "Who am I kidding? I have made that joke. Well, something along those lines at least."

"Trust me, Garfield, I know," she recalled dryly as she settled on the rock, facing him as her legs naturally crossed. He gave her a quizzical glance, and she could taste his curiosity as he tried to decipher the reason behind her presence, a task he was not alone in. For the first time since she had known him, he seemed content to allow the relative silence drag on, charging her with the sparking of the conversation. Reaching for an idea for a moment, and supremely glad that she was the one with empathy, she recalled a query that had been plaguing since the emergence of her more invasive psychic powers. Finally, she cleared her throat, causing his ears to perk, and she asked, "Why do you have such sensitive ears?"

He blinked, subconsciously running his hand along one of them while Raven picked up an internal rant at her cowardice and timidity that had traded out her subject of interest for a far more benign topic. Dropping his hand, Beast Boy shrugged, "I don't know. Probably just something to with the way the serum changed. Probably. I think."

"You think?"

"I don't really remember too much before - well, everything," he shrugged, waving vaguely towards his face. "There are some things, but not much."

"Such as?"

"Mostly my parents. My dad used to read his biology books to me when I couldn't - or wouldn't -go to sleep. Mom didn't like it when he did that," he chuckled and she could feel the nostalgia rolling off of him in waves, tinged by sorrow that had dulled but never disappeared over the years. Shaking it away, he sat up and asked, "What about you? Do you remember much about your mom?"

"This seems like an odd place to hold such a conversation," she pointed out.

"Hey, you're the one who started it."

"I was merely asking in regard to your ears."

"My velvety, very dashing ears," he preened the pointed appendages.

"Of course," she rolled her eyes. "Irresistibly dashing."

"Ooh, irresistible?" he grinned. "And me without my recorder."

"And should you bring it up again, I shall deny it," she nodded, pleased that her comment had suitably distracted him from his earlier track of questioning. She felt oddly comfortable in his presence, not as assured and protected as Robin and Cyborg made her feel, but nevertheless safe and curiously content. There was a sense, loose though it was, of being home, and she tried not to ponder it for too long. Serenity and inner peace was her long-sought goal, and if she found it in rambling conversation with Beast Boy, the universe was nowhere near as funny as it thought it was. They exchanged banter for several minutes as she mounted the courage to ask him about his mental blocks when they were interrupted by a fierce growl.

Beast Boy flushed, as much as his odd skin tone would permit him to do so and smiled sheepishly as he clutched at his unruly stomach. "Eheh. Sorry about that."

"It is lunchtime," she acknowledged, standing as she gauged the sun's position. Beast Boy shot to his feet before hesitating, the walls of his mind coming crashing back into place but not before she caught a flash of nervousness. Intrigued by it, she permitted him a moment to gather and marshal his words.

"Hey, you wanna maybe go out and grab a bite to eat?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she accused, "I have already stated that I do not intend to consume fake meat."

"No, no. I must meant to just a regular restaurant in the mall or something," he quickly explained. "Or we could go to some sort of tea-zen-goth place you like."

"I imagine that pulling Robin and Cyborg away from their tasks will be as met with as much success as pulling you from your video games," she pointed out.

"Oh, no, I meant - um, yeah. Besides, my obsession with games is way healthier than any of Robin's," he scoffed, quickly covering up the slight grimace at her suggestion.

"Assuredly," she agreed dryly. She lifted upward and said, "Starfire would likely be interested. I shall collect her."

"Awesome," he sighed as she departed for the Tower.

Downtown Jump City. 1236 Hours, 26 JULY 2014

The three teenagers progressed down the sidewalk, their uniforms traded out for civilian attire and holo-rings on their fingers to afford them some peace as they conducted their business. Beast Boy appeared as a lithe blonde with a grey beanie pulled over his hair, a dark blue shirt featuring a strange, green creature composed of blocks, and canvas shorts held to his slim waist by a belt with a frayed end. Starfire's skin and hair tone had been shifted to more natural hues for the human populace and she had donned a flattering white sundress. Hidden within the hood of her light sweatshirt, Raven's simple attire was, unsurprisingly, composed entirely of dark blue colors. Her hands did not leave the sanctuary of her pockets and she avidly studied the citizens as they strode by.

"Oh, c'mon! You can never go wrong with pizza," Gar argued with the redhead.

'Kori' gave him a tired stare and retorted, "Forgive me if I have grown weary of eating it for three out of the past five days, friend, but I would prefer something else."

"If we could pick something before my stomach eats a hole through itself, that would be nice," said the disguised sorceress, using the alias of 'Rachel.'

"All right. How about the next eatery we see?" Gar suggested.

"Whatever," Rachel huffed while Kori nodded.

"That is acceptable."

"Sweet," Gar grinned as he clenched his eyes shut and clawed at the air before him. "Now, if one of you could let me know when we finally get to a pizza place. . ."

"Make a right turn, now," Rachel suggested as they passed by stairs leading downward.

"You do realize that I can hear dudes walking on those, right?"

"A pity," she sighed.

"There!" Kori exclaimed excitedly, clapping Gar on the shoulder with enough force to nearly send him tumbling to the floor. As she held back from lifting into the air, she pointed excitedly down the street. "That place there."

Gar sniffed the air and licked his lips as his eyes brightened, "I have no idea what I'm smelling, but I'm going to eat it."

"Please be poison, please be poison," Rachel muttered, crossing her fingers and earning the disguised changeling's glare.

"Both of you behave," scolded the redhead as she set off at a brisk pace towards the restaurant, ignoring the raspberry the pair exchanged. It was a modest structure, nestled between two taller buildings of grey stone that made its red roof and colorful walls all the more inviting. Garden boxes beneath the storefront windows overflowed with lushly colored foliage, dotted with colorful flowers that vastly exceeded the rainbow. Some of the more enthusiastic plants had grown beyond the boxes' containment, but it appeared natural instead of messy. Written in elegantly swooping, golden letters was the title of 'Genevieve,' set on the somber black background of the placard over the door. As the trio grew closer, the scent that Gar had begun to salivate over became apparent to his companions, and even Rachel could not resist the urge to lick her lips.

Before they could enter, a girl with short, brown hair burst through the door, slamming into Kori. While the redhead merely blinked at the impact, it threw the brunette to the ground and she gaped up at the taller girl before two men with chiseled features lifted her to her cowboy boot-clad feet. Shaken from her stupor, they took off down the street, the short-haired girl casting a final glance backwards before ducking down an alley. The trio of heroes hesitated, exchanging a glance before entering the darkly carpeted realm. Immaculate white cloths covered the tables and red flowers bloomed in the stout glasses, expertly folded napkins arranged to resemble petals. Tall-backed chairs with thick cushions were arranged about the tables and meticulously spaced. An amber glow lit the room, created by strategically placed wall sconces and a single hanging chandelier composed of hundreds of glittering crystals.

Unfortunately, their attention was pulled from the tasteful decor towards a short, pretty woman with tanned skin whose voice belied her size. A black shirt with long sleeves and twin rows of large buttons was fitted over her broad, voluptuous frame. Matching pants reached to her shiny, flat-soled shoes. Thick, ebony hair tumbled from her head in innumerable curls and rage flashed in her emerald eyes as she delivered a verbal lashing to a bewildered young man with a ferocity that caused even Rachel to flinch.

"-que vous pouvez me voler! Ne pense pas que je ne porterai pas plainte! Et ne vous avisez pas de doute que je ne serai pas dans cette petite galerie à regarder car ils pompent le poison dans les veines."

With a scoff, she made a motion to one of the waiters who approached to seize the confused youth's arm and drag him away. The short woman ran her fingers through her hair before putting on a bright smile and turning to her bewildered patrons, making her announcement in a lightly accented voice, "Forgive the theatrics, ladies and gentlemen. Please, enjoy your meals, and accept our apology in the form of a free dessert of your choice."

There was a murmur of gratitude and she beamed as she moved between the tables, shaking hands with the people who sat at them. Leaning towards the girls, Gar whispered, "All right, anybody else kinda wet their pants a little?"

"Pleasant," Rachel observed dryly.

"Any idea what she was speaking?"

"French, I believe," Kori answered, earning curious glances from her friends to which she shrugged. "Robin knows a little bit."

"Yuh-oh - dragon lady, twelve o'clock. Hide me," Gar whispered, ducking behind Kori as the dark-haired woman approached. She extended soft hands to capture Kori's calloused palm and long fingers.

"Hello, hello. I am Adelaide Robert, owner and head chef of this establishment. Again, my apologies for that display. I'm sorry that that was your first experience of my beloved Genevieve. Please, come and sit, sit."

She ushered them to an empty table, sparing only a curious glance at Gar as he skittered to a seat though not before pulling one out for Rachel. Blinking in surprise, she muttered her thanks as the elder woman grabbed a heavy pitcher from a row on a stand along the wall. Ice clinked along its sides as she brought it over, filling Gar and Rachel's glasses but pausing at Kori whom had yet to remove the cloth carnation from the cup, afraid to ruin such careful beauty. Adelaide chuckled, "You like?"

"It's amazing. It almost looks real."

"My husband. He's good with his hands," she explained, a mischievous twinkle springing to life in her eyes. "He's tried to teach the others, but - eh."

"He runs the restaurant with you?" asked the redhead.

"No, no. He has his own work. He's on a business trip now, but the morning he left, I woke up to hundreds of them in the house so that I didn't run out before he returned."

"That's very sweet of him," smiled the redhead, admiring the flower in a new light. With a chuckle, Adelaide carefully lifted it as not to disturb its structure and handed it to the girl as she filled her glass.

"If you desire, you may take one," she offered.

"I - no - I couldn't possibly -"

"Yes, you can. It is merely cloth. Exquisitely folded, lightly scented, and masterfully placed, but, in the end, it is nothing irreplaceable," she assured her, pressing the folded flower into her hands. Filling, the glass, she straightened and sighed, "Now, I must return to my beloved kitchen before my dear idiots burn it down."

She departed, leaving Kori to inhale the scent of the flower, and the others to look through the menu, Gar turning to Rachel regularly to ask for clarification on numerous words.

Cafeteria, Jump City Penitentiary. 1248 Hours, 26 JULY 2014

". . . down, down and the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of-"

"Ring of Fire? Really? You don't think that's maybe, I don't know, a bit on the nose?"

Arson's orange eyes flashed up from his inspection of the potatoes that he had been dragging his plastic fork through and he grumbled, "Don'cha have to get to yer lil' beaner friends, Rube?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to make sure you don't get shanked or something, man. With all the friends you've been making and your pleasant demeanor, I figured you could use somebody to watch your back," Rubio shrugged, setting his elbows on the table.

"Ah'm touched. Really. Ah'm tearin' up here."

"Yeah, you're touched all right - in the head. Look, you're a good cellmate. You don't mess with me, you only threaten to kill me occasionally - honestly, the only real problem is that music."

"They're classics," he snapped.

"You know what? I won't even argue that. I will give that to you," he said generously. "I'd just rather that you stop singing them. My ears can't take it anymore."

"Ain't nothing wrong with my singin'. Ma always said that ah had the voice of an angel," he retorted sourly.

"Yeah, well, this might surprise you, man, but mom's lie. Like, mine told me that I was gonna do great things," he scoffed only to find a fork leveled at his throat.

"Then, as a good son, it's yer job to prove her right," he directed before returning his attention to the suspiciously lumpy mash potatoes and continuing his investigation of them. Rubio opened his mouth to respond only for his instincts to warn him of the sudden presences at his side and he uneasily glanced over his shoulder to find a pair of burly men looming over him. Glancing about, he found that Arson was similarly flanked but the burnt man took no notice of the thugs as he prodded at his potatoes, certain that he had witnessed unbidden movement.

Abandoning his tray, the younger man fled the scene and the large men settled onto the bench as a final figure joined the group. Older than the others, he had silvery hair and thick glasses that made him appear grandfatherly, and the mouth under his bushy mustache seemed to naturally curl into a smile. The image was marred by the swastika prominently emblazoned upon his neck and the complete lack of anything resembling compassion in his eyes. Settling between the small gang that had formed about Arson, who continued his feigned ignorance of their presences, he pushed the tray out of his way and clasped his hands together upon the table.

"Enjoying your lunch, Mr. Arson?" he asked.

"Well, it don't hold a candle to the cuisine down in the Dallas prison system, but ah've certainly had worse," said the orange-eyed man, finally lifting his gaze and using his fork to illustrate his words. He turned it suddenly and stabbed it into his potatoes before scooping them into his mouth, hurriedly gulping them down without tasting them. Before making another stab, he mused, "So, what brings y'all around these parts, Clay? Don'cha girls have to braid each other's hair or somethin'? Oh, wait. Skinheads. My bad."

"You really want to make a joke about missing hair?" asked the older man.

Running his fingers over his scarred scalp, Arson shrugged, "Y'all shoulda seen me back when ah had a full head of hair. Woulda had 'nuff for all y'all."

"Well, since you can't offer us that anymore, maybe there's something else you can give us."

"Told'ja, Clay, ah'm already runnin' with a gang."

"So you've said. But, I never see anybody watching your back. That's dangerous around here."

"Ah've managed."

"For now," the elder nodded concessively before his glare sharpened. "But, time's a coming where you won't be able to anymore. Join now, or someday very soon, you're going to wish you had."

Arson snorted and shook his head as he tapped his fork against his tray, "Ah tell yah, Nazi-wannabes these days. No sense of tact."

Suddenly pounding his fist on the corner of his tray, he catapulted into the face of the man at his side before a punch from the other slammed across his face. He recovered quickly and swung back into him, driving him from the bench and tackling him to the ground before pummeling him. A cruel glee burned in his eyes, a flickering glow as he battered the larger man before beefy arms scooped under his own and lifted him into the air. Pressing his teeth together, he threw up both his feet before driving them back, grinning at the snapping sound as they made contact with his captor's thigh. The grip on him disappeared and he dropped to the floor as the man howled in pain, clutching at his leg, which made him the perfect height for Arson to grab his skull and drive his knee into his foe's chin.

A crowd cheered and hollered as the larger man dropped, but the scarred man's celebration was interrupted by a tray slamming across the back of his head and casting him onto the table. Meaty hands grabbed his hands while his attacker abandoned the impromptu weapon to seize his ankles, keeping him upon the table. Clay lowered his head to meet the thrashing man's glare and gave a small smile.

"You should've just listened to us, Mr. Arson. Now we have to - upph!"

Tearing a hand free, Arson grabbed the elder's head and slammed it against the table as he seethed, "Ah'm gonna burn yah beyond recognition."

Clay grunted as he tried to tear away from the steely grasp and his thugs hammered on the man while trying to tear away Arson's hand. A glow rose in his eyes, flickering and dancing like the tongues of a flame before he blinked and shook his head, the light dying out as he released his grip. Reeling back, Clay fell to the floor as the guards finally responded, pushing through the crowd and forcing them to disperse before setting upon the perpetrators of the spectacle. The large men were pulled away and shoved to the floor and Arson did not struggle as a guard hauled him to his feet, pulling his arms behind his back as he shouted orders at him. Catching Clay's gaze, he flashed a small smile and let the guard march him away.

Well, we get a new villain, a chance for the Titans to kinda relax, and a quick look at what Arson's been up to! We hope that you've all been enjoying the characters we've been introducing and we might just keep checking in on Arson. What do you guys think? Is he interesting enough to get regular appearances?

Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!