3
"The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." -Oscar Wilde
To Catch a Raven
By Lynx Klaw
Chapter 3: Steps 9 and 10
Step 9: Give It a Place to Nest
The next day, Judge Rendalton was signing a few court orders that crossed his desk. He only had a few appointments today and two short hearings. At least, they were supposed to be short. Yesterday's 'short' hearing was nothing short of insanity! Suddenly, he noticed a slight humming sound. Frowning, he stood up and tried to pinpoint the sound. Just in front of his desk, a growing pool of black energy seeped up through his carpet! Rendalton backed up against his desk, eyes wide.
Bulging upward, the oozing energy poked up in avian form, and then opened four, blood-red eyes that shone like demented Christmas lights. This birdlike shape opened its wings, revealing the pink-haired girl--Jinx, he remembered (it wasn't as if he could forget)--standing almost dazedly in front of him. The pitch energy receded, the beak became a blue hood, and its wings folded back to form the edges of a cape. As the eerie darkness finally removed itself from his room, Raven pulled her hood back.
"I'll be outside if you need me," the demi-Demon said, and then walked through the door to the waiting room outside.
From the next room, the judge heard his secretary squeak in surprise.
"Um..." said Kamala after recovering from the teleporting, "Am I early?"
There was a pause as Rendalton recovered and glanced at his clock--9:02 AM. Shaking his head, he went to his desk and sat down just a bit heavily.
"No, no... I just wasn't expecting you to... arrive so suddenly," he said, gathering the papers on his desk and shifting them to the side. Beneath the papers lay a folder, which he opened up.
"Please, sit. Before those men made a mockery of my court, I was interested to hear your proposal in your own words. Putting what happened during the trial aside, I am still interested. Could you explain to me what brought you to this proposal?"
The pink-haired hex-caster blinked and took a seat in the padded chair, "Uh... I'm sorry; I don't really... remember what happened during the trial-"
"You were drugged," he said without preamble and a slight hint of anger, "I've seen to the matter personally, but you also have the right to press charges."
"Press charges... I can do that?"
She'd never had the right to take legal action of any sort. Working outside the law rather negated all the rights a regular citizen might have. To have the same freedoms as any normal person--it was an immense and shocking delight to the girl.
"Yes, if you wish. I would consider it, in your position. It will lay heavy on their sentencing."
"What happens if I rat, though?" she muttered.
The judge frowned, "Excuse me?"
"HIVE stands for the Hierarchy of International Vengeance and Extermination. It's not an idle title," Kamala explained, "States evidence has a nasty habit of having their tongues cut out and their throats slit. It's standard procedure--we're all taught this during our first year at the Academy. It's a fact: rats get exterminated.
"While I'm sure the HIVE has no connections to the lawyers, I need to think about it. If I get labeled a rat, I'm a high-priority target for every HIVE member. I heard of this one guy, Silvers... He's one of the HIVE operatives and one serious whacko. He's hunted down rats for the better part of his career. I heard he has jars of tongues from rats he's offed.
"No way do I wanna be a notch on his or anyone else's belt."
"Do you fear for your life--we can put you in protective custody," offered Rendalton. He was looking decidedly pale at the girl's explanations.
Kammie shook her head, "Nah, wouldn't do you any good; we have our own people in the boys in blue. A couple judges of our own, too. It'd be like putting a goldfish in a piranha tank. I'll need to think this over..."
That she told him there were dirty cops and judges rankled his temper viciously, but this girl lived in a world where all the veils of polite society had been removed. He knew that, if he asked, she would never tell him those that allied themselves with HIVE; because she wasn't a 'rat.' The underworld of organized crime ruled Kamala's perception and he couldn't let it upset his own principles. If he forced it out of her by rejecting the proposal until she told him, he would be putting her in danger. Rendalton hated it when the grey areas were mostly dark...
"Can I use your phone? I need to call someone about this."
"I suppose, if you feel it would help," he said, turning the phone system toward her.
The villainess snagged the phone off its cradle and punched in a number so quickly it had to have been by rote. Moments later, she was sagging back into the chair, her mind completely engrossed in the conversation.
"Yes, I'd like to speak with the guidance counselor... I'm a former student. I graduated about two years ago. ... 1091424. ... Um, no, I don't think the line's secure."
She went quiet while the operator directed her call, and then muttered incoherently to herself when no immediate connection occurred. Suddenly, she jolted back to awareness.
"Yes, this is Jinx. I have a question--it's about liability and ethics. ... Well, I got drugged by some guys while I was at a trial. I got a chance to press charges- ... No, no I don't need to hire anyone. If I was gonna have 'em whacked, I'd do it myself and save the money."
Rendalton blinked and sat back. This girl was certainly strange... and possibly worrying. The fact that she was calmly discussing the pros and cons of a hired hit man versus hands-on murder greatly bothered him. He tried not to let it show.
"Well, I kinda wanna press charges. ... I wasn't sure if I should, because I'm no rat and- ... Are you sure? ... Really? So as long as they're not affiliated- ... Oh, okay. Thanks. Mhm, bye." Kamala put the phone back on its cradle and sat back with a satisfied smile on her face. She nodded, "Sure, I'll press charges."
"You'll need to talk to an attorney, I'll suggest one from an office that's trustworthy so there are no repeats. This could be a high-profile case, I'll warn you," said the judge, "However, I think it's in your best interests to receive restitution for your troubles.
"Back on the first topic... The main reason I asked you here was to settle the matter of your probation and community service. What prompted you to turn yourself in?"
The HIVE Five member turned an interesting shade of red and glanced toward the door to the waiting room. This bashful display only proved what she had said during the trial. Rendalton had read the police report--how Jinx had made her grand exit from the scene of the 'crime.' He decided to let the sorceress put it in her own words.
"For a long time, I've wanted to be a mercenary... but my academy got mixed up with the wrong guy and HIVE didn't know what was going on until it was too late. By the time they sorted it out, the Titans had already deposed Brother Blood and locked him away.
"After that, everyone kinda... snapped back to normal. Mostly. Some of the students had been brainwashed to the point where HIVE had to do some mental housecleaning with their psychics," she paused to sigh, "Some of them were my close friends; they're not the same anymore--nobody was after Blood. Anyway, I decided to strike out solo--see if I could do it. But I didn't really want to head back into thugging and looting; I'd had enough of that under Blood.
"That's when I got this crazy idea to try out for a mercenary position again. But to do that, I'd need a jump-start. You don't just become a mercenary--there's a process. I don't have the funds to do that, so I needed something to hold me over. I figured if I found a vigilante team that could take me on until I got on my feet, it would eliminate most of my problems. They have sponsors and that'd take care of most of my problems. Then I could help them out every now and then 'til I could strike out on my own."
Judge Rendalton nodded. It was a sound theory, more or less the same thing the written proposal dictated. She still hadn't told him anything, yet. He continued to press her.
"And you have such a team in mind?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah... the Titans. They're local, they have good publicity, and their sponsors are pretty healthy judging by the tech they have."
The judge nodded rubbing his small beard, "All good considerations. However, if you were to receive probation, I would prefer that you have a means of supporting yourself instead of relying upon any sponsor. If I grant you this probation, it will be on the provision that you find a legitimate job."
Kamala paused to consider that. It hadn't really crossed her mind. Things like that just didn't happen.
"I can... try. I mean, there are no good sentiments for Metahumans. They get screened and scrutinized about as bad as people on the Sex Offender List. I'll look around, but... What if I can't find anything?"
"If you're having trouble, then contact your probation officer and we'll see about some sort of placement program. A court order goes a long way, after all," Rendalton said with a slight smirk. "Now, business matters aside... were there any personal reasons that drove you to make this proposal?"
Kammie stiffened, 'He knows something...'
"How do you mean?"
The man made a vague gesture with his hand, "Everything we have discussed so far has dealt with your goals, your occupation, what does this mean for you personally? Is there anything else that made you choose this path?"
'Damnit, he knows! How did he--the trial! Shit, what'd I say yesterday?'
Her pupils contracted and her frame rigid, she tried to think of how he was going to screw her over on this. Gripping the frame of the chair so tightly that the leather on the armrests squeaked, the hex-caster's mind raced furiously. What did he want? He had to want something or he wouldn't be trying to worm it out of her. He already knew; he was just using that information to dangle her little dream over her head like a carrot in front of a mule!
"...You're blackmailing me."
He started and appeared flustered, "E-excuse me?"
She stared grimly at him, "I know what you want me to say. Fine--I like her... I want her. You're not gonna hand over this dream of probation and community service to someone like me. It's too good to be true. ...So name your price."
Rendalton sat back, taking in this unflinching, pink-haired girl... so used to the manipulation and the mind-games that it had irrevocably warped her worldview. She saw deception and strings attached to everything. Nothing came free and you had to fight for every scrap of life you wanted to keep. The man had seen the mentality many times over the years... sometimes in hardened criminals, sometimes in bums.
Too young. That was the problem, these days. Kids like her, just starting their lives, were already in the deep end trying to keep their head above the water. Once they headed down the wrong path, it was usually a slippery slope all the way to the bottom.
"Kamala, I sit in a position that places higher standards upon me... I follow a set of beliefs that I swore to uphold almost 15 years ago. I'd like to think I've done a fair job of it so far. I know you have probably heard this many times before, but you can trust me. I've no ulterior motives, just my beliefs... Everyone deserves a fair shake at the world, but not many people get one. It's an unpleasant fact that parades itself through my courtroom every day.
"You are the one that made this decision. You wanted to change your life. I'm giving you a chance to do that--but you'll have to trust me to get it. That's my price, Kamala. If you can trust me, I will do everything within my power to see you get the chance to take your life by the reins. Can you do that?"
The villainess was quiet for nearly a minute as she mulled it over. She couldn't tell if he was lying to cover his machinations or telling the truth. In the end, it didn't matter. Her jaw set and she nodded slowly.
"...Yeah, I can do that."
Judge Rendalton smiled widely, leaned forward, and picked up a pen from his desk, "Then I'm going to sign this paper... and I'm going to appoint Raven Roth of the Titans as your probation officer. See you keep to our agreement and look for employment. If you'll sign this sheet, you can be on your way..."
Kamala opened her mouth, but no sound came out. No way. No way. Things didn't really happen this way, did they? Not in her life! Still, some part of her not in blatant shock was doing cartwheels inside her head. Treating the paper almost as if it were made of glass, she picked it up and scanned the agreement. Turning the page, she finished off the fine print and glanced up at the proffered pen.
She took it up and signed.
Free to roam the Tower--well, most of it--on the provision that she did not (Robin repeated, did not) tamper with anything, she would be given time to find herself a job and, when she could afford it, a place to live. Her room was plain, but she was used to not having many amenities. When she had vacated her previous apartment, she gathered all her possessions into one bag. HAEYP's survival training combined with her personal experiences dictated that anything she couldn't carry in a single pack--while running--was not necessary.
Kamala had an account, but she was reluctant to access it should the Titans trace it and freeze the stolen assets. Those funds were extremely important and were not for use. She had always refrained from withdrawing from it unless there was an absolute emergency. Luckily, she had not come across such an emergency.
So here she was, in her new room with her backpack and without a dime to her name. The sorceress had been in worse positions. She went about unpacking her items. The diary went on the nightstand. The meditation table went in the center of the room. Her clothes she hung in the closet. The perfume rested on the dresser and her toiletries in the bathroom. The large, blank spaces between these items only impressed upon her how minimalist her lifestyle was, but it didn't bother her. The hex-caster would rather have a few permanent possessions than many possessions that she could lose or forget.
Half the day had been spent using the Titan computer to seek jobs. She had the equivalent of a high school graduate education. Headmistress never gave her a HAEYP diploma, but she had documentation of attendance and graduation. Nobody needed to know that 'HIVE Academy' was an extra-humanoid training facility.
Unfortunately, most of the jobs had a minimum of some kind of college degree. Unless she wanted to deal with fast food--impossible because dealing with beef was against her religion--she was looking at janitorial services or gofer work. Neither of which would get her sufficient income.
Worse, she had a record. Granted, it was a vague record since HIVE always did what it could to keep their own off the official records. However, she had chosen to go straight and narrow; that meant no tampering with police records. Kammie submitted various electronic applications, nonetheless. Who knows? Maybe she'd get lucky. Kamala had also printed out a list of sites she would need to visit over the next few weeks.
Victor remained silent as he drove the seething girl back to Titans Tower. The fourth day of job questing had gone much like the previous three days. Those three days had gone about as smoothly as a tornado through a trailer park. Upon sighting her, nobody would admit there were any positions open for the obvious Metahuman... even though there were 'help wanted' signs in the windows. Several had outright demanded she leave the store before she 'frightened the customers.'
The tension was so thick it could strangle as the mostly-metal man rode up the elevator with Kamala. The second the doors opened, the sorceress stomped across the common room. Richard looked away from the computer briefly, but refrained from asking how things went.
"Hey, Jinx, you know-" Vic began, reaching out for her shoulder.
A sizable arc of energy zapped the three-inch space to his approaching hand. With an electrical fizzle and spark of coral hex energy, it blew his hand back before it could touch her.
"Whoa!"
Kammie stopped, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. Her magic was charged and humming inside her body. It took an effort to calm it down when her nerves were utterly shot. Turning around, she wiped away the scowl on her face. Still, she couldn't keep the frustration from her voice.
"Sorry, I'm a bit worked up. I know they're just being ignorant, you've been telling me that every day. I'll find something; I just-... I just need time. Something will come up eventually.
"Look, I'm gonna... take a nap or something. Wake me for dinner?"
Vic nodded and watched her head out of the common room and into the hallway.
The bed had been stripped. The pillows were wedged in the farthest corner of the room away from the window and doorway. This solitary corner had her blankets folded over several times; these piled squares acted as padding. The comforter lay in slight disarray, where she had wrapped up herself last night.
Sitting down heavily, she rested herself comfortably against the corner. Nobody could come up behind her and she could see every door--bathroom and closet included--and exit from the immediate area. Kamala was safe here... on an island, in a fortress-like tower, in a dark room, in a corner. Nothing reassured her more than sturdy walls and a floor...
Slowly, she felt the tension leave her and she fell almost immediately asleep. Sometimes it was necessary to fall asleep fast to grab every minute of rest possible. Who knew when she might have to get up and run? Who knew how long it would be until her next rest? These were lessons learned a long time ago, but never forgotten. It wasn't an easy talent to acquire...
For now, this was her sanctuary and it provided her a place where her troubles could not follow. Within this room, she Kamala was free to be herself without fear.
Raven floated down the hallway like a wraith. It wasn't something she consciously did. When she felt like walking, she did. When she didn't... she floated. It was a quarter 'til six and Kamala wanted to be up for dinner. Landing softly, she knocked on the door.
There was a commotion inside as Kamala's head jerked up in surprise--she hadn't heard anyone walking down the hallway. Her head thumped the wall behind her; even with the pillow between her head and the corner, it still smarted. The knock came again and she bolted to her feet; almost immediately entangled in the comforter, the sorceress toppled herself to the floor. Wind noisily whisked out of her in a loud grunt. She winced at the pain in her chest and stomach--the fall had not been graceful or kind. At least she didn't bang her head again...
"Jinx?" Raven asked, hearing the noise and sensing the other girl's shock and discomfort.
More sounds of struggling came as the pink-haired girl disengaged herself from the comforter with several curses at the thing. Finally, she kicked the offending material from around her ankles and approached the door.
Resisting the urge to phase through the door, she asked again, "Kamala, is everything okay?"
Almost before she was finished speaking, the door slid open and the hex-caster stood with a nervous grin on her face. She appeared fine, but her accelerated heartbeat and dilated pupils said otherwise.
"Yeah, I just... got caught up in the covers. I'm good. Is it time for dinner?"
Raven nodded and, as the HIVE Five member moved out, she glanced inside before the door was shut. There were no covers on the bed. The demi-Demon filed this away for later. Dinner was a quiet affair--at last on their part. Everyone else, including Richard, seemed utterly oblivious to her inner turmoil over Kamala. She could feel the last few days of stress weighing on the other girl's mind. It wasn't her place to comment on it, but Raven decided that if it went on any longer, she would at least offer a listening ear.
That night, as with others, the Tower went into its security mode and the Titans retired for however much sleep they could get before either their leader or an alarm dragged them out of bed. In her pink tank top and black boy shorts, Kammie pulled her knees to her chest and set her head upon them. Within three minutes, she had fallen asleep.
Even so, her senses were on high alert. The slightest change in her environment would have awoken her. She had heard Robin approaching the infirmary, and currently listened to the other Titans close their doors before dozing off herself. That she did not hear Raven when the mystic Titan retrieved her for dinner had bothered her, but she put it down as stress tiring her out more than usual.
In her dreams, she floated in an inky darkness. She was not afraid. The sorceress didn't really feel anything. The girl just was. It was in this peaceful and simple existence that she slept best. Generally, Kamala was aware when she dreamed; years of mental exercises and meditation had honed her conscious and subconscious.
Then she felt something, another presence... inside her!
Having changed into her soft, blue-bordering-on-black pajamas, Raven sat in the middle of her bed pondering the oddness of the evening. Had Kamala lied to her? If so, why? As receptive as she had been to the pink-haired hex-caster recently, she would have noticed it. So not a lie... And yet, there were no covers on the bed--it had been stripped down to the mattress. Cautiously, she projected her awareness toward the spare room they had provided sorceress.
Upon sensing the other girl, Raven found her asleep. She touched lightly on the fringes of Kammie's mind for only a second, but the response was immediate.
'Get out of my mind!' every fiber of Kamala's mind shrieked.
An instant later, a wave of terror swept through the tower and buffeted her like a physical blow, knocking her over from her lotus position. After she sat up and regained her wits, the demi-Demon teleported to the hex-caster's room. She sought out Kamala, but found the bed empty.
Raven had expected to hear a scream, but somehow this terrified silence was somehow more disturbing. Turning slightly, she saw a figure huddled in the corner. With a gesture, the lamp on the nightstand turned on.
The lamp's soft light revealed Kamala. She had the comforter pulled about her tightly, held in a white-knuckle grip. The girl shivered like some rat trapped by a tiger, breaths coming in soundless, staccato bursts. Of the fuchsia irises, there was no sign--the pupils dominated right up to the sclera, but the eyes stared unseeingly.
The violet-haired girl moved over, kneeling down to the horrified hex-caster. She kissed her forehead and held her as best she could; tried to comfort the frightened girl. It wasn't something she'd ever done. Raven merely emulated what she had read in books and seen in her rare stints spent watching television.
Several minutes later, the demi-Demon managed to break through the girl's fear enough for Kammie to notice her. Wide, terrified stared at her and uttered a single word.
"Blood."
Raven gently contradicted, "No, you're fine. You were asleep-"
Kamala viciously shook her head, "Brother Blood."
After a few stunned seconds, Raven blinked. Putting a finger under Kamala's chin, she lifted it gently so their eyes could meet. She leaned forward until their foreheads met and she whispered.
"Kamala... Brother Blood was lobotomized, remember? He managed to escape and wound up on the wrong side of Deathstroke. Slade seared his brain with a laser before we made it to the warehouse where they were fighting..."
The pink-haired girl whimpered, "I felt it! He touched my mind again!"
Clarity washed over Raven like ice water.
"Oh, Azar... I'm so sorry--that was me, Kamala. I wanted to check on you, so I just felt out... I didn't think; I'm sorry."
She tenderly brushed her mind out against Kamala's again, sharing her thoughts and feelings with the girl. Accompanying it was a calming wave of benevolence. 'It was me. See? I'm sorry I frightened you. It's okay...'
"...It was you?"
'Yes, it was me. It's okay. Blood's gone; and even if he wasn't, I would never let him do anything to you again. I promise.'
She kissed Kamala, trying to comfort and sooth the poor girl's fears. It took a few moments, but her Jinx slowly began to respond. Soon, the nightmarish horrors had disappeared and the pink-haired hex-caster began to relax. When Raven pulled away, she sat back on the corner of the sheet-made padding.
"How long have you been sleeping here?"
Her adrenaline slowly ebbing away, Kammie felt a wave of fatigue sweep through her powerfully. She yawned. Her expression was quizzical.
"I've been here less than a week..."
"I mean the corner--is there something wrong with the bed?" the mystic Titan asked. If there were a problem with the bed, someone would have fixed it if only the girl had asked.
Shaking her head, the HIVE Five member scrunched up her face at the mattress.
"I haven't used a bed since... hn, since I was ten. I can't sleep on them, anymore. Sometimes I try, but they just don't feel right."
Raven was quiet for a moment, then gently uncurled Kamala's fingers from the comforter. Pulling the thick cover away, she took the other girl's hands and stood, urging Kamala to do the same. Curiously, the pink-haired sorceress did so, then tensed as Raven wrapped them in her energy and teleported them.
In Raven's room, they appeared standing upon the bed. Kammie only took a moment to ascertain where they were.
"Raven, what-"
"Sh," the demi-Demon said, pressing the hex-caster's shoulders down.
Kamala knelt on the bed with Raven, and hesitantly leaned back when the violet-haired teen persisted. This didn't feel right... it was too soft and she felt like she was sinking. She immediately pulled in on herself, not liking the sensation of the satin sheets and silk pillowcases cushioning her. It didn't have the reassurance sturdy walls and a floor had.
With Raven's arm under her head, she let the other girl maneuver her to her side. Even though taller than the violet-haired girl, her instinctive, curled position allowed Raven to wrap around her perfectly. From behind Kamala, Raven's arm slid around her stomach and pulled her back until she was flush against the demi-Demon. She could feel the warmth of the body embracing hers, holding her tenderly and protectively. It was much better than sturdy walls and a floor.
'Go to sleep now, Jinx.'
Step 10: Play With It
The next morning saw Kamala drowsily becoming aware of the all-encompassing warmth the like she had never known. Purring quietly, she snuggled into the source of it. Raven nuzzled the back of her neck, but was otherwise quiet. Neither felt like moving but both knew the day had started.
''Morning,' a soft voice purred inside her head.
Unused to any form of mental communication, the pink-haired sleepyhead yawned and thought in Raven's direction. This thing could come in handy, if it worked. It was different from Blood's mind control and brainwashing. Raven simply sat on the fringes of her thoughts--like a little presence or a song stuck in her head that she didn't mind having.
'Have you been up long?' Kamala 'thought out.'
The demi-Demon was not scanning the girl; she felt the thoughts sliding about inside Kammie's head, but made no move to investigate them. It would have been an invasion of privacy. The projected thoughts, however, came easily to the surface and sort of... breezed into her awareness. It wasn't bad at all for a non-telepath.
'A couple hours, but you were asleep... and you were warm,' Raven sent, well aware that the hex-caster would have awoken the moment she tried to move away.
Turning around until Raven's arms were around her back, Kamala pressed in closer and kissed the violet-haired girl. They lay there for nearly half an hour, just enjoying the building intimacy between them. The heroine sighed and let the feelings the ex-villainess was projecting wash over her. Their hands traced idle trails over skin and cloth, bringing shivers and sighs between them. Raven knew they should probably stop, but the act of being close to someone... something she had craved since her earliest days, put her conscience aside.
Kamala was kissing down her neck--again, and she made a noise. She wasn't sure what, because she forgot about it the moment she made it. The pink-haired girl's hand smoothly ran up her hip and under her pajama top. The demi-Demon's eyes opened and she blinked. This might be going a bit far for-
A knock at the door.
"Raven. Training in twenty," Richard's muffled voice informed through the barrier.
'Fuck...'
Kammie's hand stopped. Moving back, she stared at the mystic Titan as though she had grown a tail out of her head.
"Did... did you just curse?" she asked in a scandalized voice. She had never heard Raven use profanity.
"No."
Before the hex-caster could call her on it, Raven gave her a parting kiss, scooted to the edge of the bed, and entered her bathroom.
Robin moved down the hall toward the unused quarters and guest rooms. He stopped in front of the room they gave to the ex-villainess for temporary occupation. Jinx should have been up by now. Friday wasn't different from any other day of the week when it came to job seeking. He knocked on the door, but received no response. Frowning, the Boy Wonder knocked again.
"Jinx, it's time to get up."
The answer from outside her room and behind the Titans leader made him jerk in surprise.
"Thanks, Chief. I'll be out in a moment."
He stared at the hex-caster as she passed him to slide open her door and walk inside the room.
"How did you-"
"Infinite Improbability Drive," she replied and then shut the door behind her.
Outside Kamala's room, Robin stood with a frown on his face. He stared at the door for several more moments before giving up on the entire train of thought. The answer might be hazardous to his health--mental, physical, or both. Sometimes it was better just to not know...
As Raven finished drying her hair, she took a brush to it while standing in front of her mirror. Now that the violet locks were actually long enough that they required maintenance, she cursed that there was no spell in any of her tomes that prevented such necessary evils. During one such stroke, she caught sight of a small bit of red-violet that was most definitely not her hair. It was on the side of her neck.
Leaning closer to the mirror, she rubbed a thumb over it. It was a... bruise. Realization dawned and she sighed in exasperation.
"...Jinx."
Practice had been alternately invigorating and frustrating. Everything had been going fine until Robin had somehow managed to get in close. Not many were aware of it, but Raven was capable of melee. It was nowhere near as refined as Robin's extensive training, the Tamaranean military battle tactics used by Starfire, or even Jinx's prowess with her amalgam of mixed martial arts. However, there was something to be said about her heritage--by her very nature, she was brutal and savage... she just chose not to show it. It made her uncomfortable. Unfortunately, Robin was having none of it.
"Raven, I'm trying to help you improve your hand-to-hand skills. If you keep holding back, I can't see what we need to focus on."
She calmly ducked a swing from his staff; when he followed with a side kick toward her head, a back flip moved her out of its range. That imperturbable lack of expression as she stared back at him only made the Boy Wonder more determined.
"What you are suggesting is extremely dangerous, Robin. Let's just stick to this and show me what I need to-"
The Titans leader rushed her, pole-vaulting and ripping through the air with a flying kick that she sidestepped. The moment he landed, he was swinging out the staff in a sweep she easily jumped, only to find him lunging at her with a punch. He knew she was no match for him without her powers and he was pushing that point now. The Boy Wonder fully expected to have to pull his punch at the last moment--thus proving the validity of his argument.
He didn't expect the speed with which she responded. Before he fully understood what was happening, she had him by the wrist and he was airborne. Robin careened through the air, single-handedly tossed with a strength that belied Raven's figure. He managed to twist and land in a crouch. A frown marred his face.
She was vaguely aware of the others halting their practice to watch the unfolding fight. When things heated up between the spiky-haired teen and their resident mystic, it was always a show to remember. Ignoring the attention, the demi-Demon sank down, hunching her posture.
"Very well, if this will make you see reason..."
Upper eyes slowly revealed themselves, the slit-like orbs blazing red. Then she was charging him. She had covered half the distance to him by the time he recovered from a startled twitch. He barely managed to block a backhand swipe aimed at head level with his staff, but skidded a few feet to the side with the force of the blow. The metal pole vibrated in his clutches and made his hands tingle.
Then she lunged for him with all the grace of a pouncing leopard. The spiky-haired teen sidestepped her leap; with her back to him, he thought to capitalize upon her position. With both hands on the staff like a major league heavy-hitter, the Titans leader whipped the staff out to catch her ribs. Halfway turning, Raven caught the pole in her right hand and held it in an unyielding grip. Robin's brows rose.
When she yanked on it, he let go lest she pull him to her. He had another he could pull if necessary. Taking the staff in both hands, she bent the weapon until it groaned in protest... and then abruptly snapped. Tossing the halves aside, the violet-haired girl advanced upon him like a stalking predator. She snarled and growled at him, the sound rolling through the room like distant thunder. Her shoulders remained hunched and her arms dangled idly, but menacingly. Raven's fingers had curled into hooks, flexing repeatedly as though trying to extend claws she didn't have.
Another low growl left her as Robin slowly circled her, keeping her at an equal distance rather than let her prowl over him. He knew that Raven had some Demonic features, but she had never exercised them in their training. Nothing she did spoke of finesse or restraint--just raw, feral intent. The Boy Wonder was nothing if not versatile, though, and his fights with Beast Boy were sometimes similar to this...
He decided to go on the offensive, leaping in with another flying kick. All he needed to do was take her out of her stance and he could unbalance her. Unfortunately, Raven did not dodge--she attacked! Throttling forward to meet him, she used her superior speed to snag Robin's ankle and haul him toward her. Once again, she pounced. Her free hand clutched his shoulder and she bore him to the ground.
Robin slammed to the ground and felt the air leave his lungs. The next things he became aware of were the four, sharp points lightly pricking at his neck. He froze, careful not to give her incentive to bite or force himself into the fangs. Raven's growl was warning, just barely restrained.
"Raven! Stop it," the voice shot across the training area like a bullet.
'Kamala,' the name flitted through her mind.
Immediately, her head jerked up and away, ruby eyes blinking anxiously. Jinx stood at the door, arms crossed and frowning. The pink-haired girl's presence oddly tamed the Demonic mentality that currently drove the mystic Titan. Slowly, her eyes lost their crimson glow and closed. There was an indefinable shift in her face and one pair of violet eyes opened.
The violet-haired demi-Demon frowned down at the young man she had pinned. She pulled him up a few inches by her grip on his shoulder and thumped him back to the ground, "Don't do that again."
"Raven," Jinx softly said again as she approached. The pink-haired hex-caster held out her hand.
Moving off Robin, Raven turned away and took the ex-villainess' hand, "I need another shower..."
With the exodus of the two girls, the room was silent for all of four seconds.
"Dude, she kicked your ass all the way to Gotham and Fed-Exed it back to you!"
The Titans leader shot the Beast Boy a glare until the green teen withered slightly. Shaking off the effects of the short but intense spar, he sat up. A small smirk crossed his face despite his slightly wounded pride.
'Sometimes you get what you ask for...'
When Raven came out of her room, she was dressed casually. The mystic Titan wore a blue, hooded jacket over a black tee shirt. The shirt had been a gift from Beast Boy on her last birthday; it said 'Sarcasm... just one of the services I offer.' A pair of black jeans and midnight blue sneakers completed her wardrobe. She was supposed to go with Kamala on the zany girl's crazy job hunt. Unsurprisingly Richard was waiting for her outside the door.
She took the initiative, "I'm sorry I lost my temper. I went too far."
The spiky-haired teen shook his head, "You warned me. I should have known better--and I could have asked."
"I'm not completely Human. Sometimes it's easy for people to forget..."
"Hey, it's no problem. Really. Let's just put it behind us. I do have one question, though," he said speculatively.
Raven almost winced, "Yes?"
"Do you have to... 'change' to do what you did earlier?"
The violet-haired girl shook her head, "My current form is still different from yours, but I'm careful to moderate myself--I don't want to break someone's arm when I grab them or something. When I slide toward my more Demonic states, the differences become more visible... It just happens more often when I'm angry."
Richard nodded as if he expected that, "I've ironed out this same issue with Kori, Gar, and Vic; I kind of have a handle on it by now. Now that I know what to expect, we can work something out--if you're willing to explore it."
She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. Well, that went better than she'd expected. Richard had been less impulsive lately, more relaxed and accepting when tense situations arose. Kori might have had something to do with it... Regardless, it was a good change. As she turned to head to the common room to meet Kamala, the Boy Wonder stopped her again.
"Do you have a choker or anything like that?"
She turned back to look at him in bafflement.
"Just... might want something to cover your neck."
Raven's hand shot up to cover the love bite Kamala left earlier in the morning. Eyes wide and face flaming, she fled back into her room.
While Kamala and the HIVE Five were infamous among the law enforcement, HIVE was very efficient in keeping their agents out of the spotlight. It was for this reason that the two were able to walk down the street without any major attention. Raven's new hairstyle hadn't received enough exposure for people to recognize her immediately. By the time anyone thought to look twice, the pair had disappeared into the mass of people on the sidewalks.
Raven let Kammie lead her about by the hand, stopping here and there to see if anyone was hiring. Several times, the Titan had the impression that the only reason the ex-villainess didn't deck the managers was because the pink-haired girl was holding her hand with a vicious tenacity. If she were as fragile as a Human was, Kamala might have broken her fingers.
The demi-Demon understood the sudden elevation in the girl's tension over the past few days, now. A week of this and Robin would have been peeling one of these fools off the ceiling after she went 'Daughter of Trigon' on them. Still, as Kamala's probation officer, she could definitively say that the hex-caster was making every possible effort. They ran the gamut of stores and positions. Neither the deplorable position as sales clerk at Hot Topic nor the ungrateful dockworker position at a furniture store was hiring the likes of an obvious Metahuman.
They broke for lunch at a small Italian restaurant and then--bodies refueled and nerves assuaged--prepared to take on another run through the gauntlet. The next stop was a small bookstore. Her chances for any good jobs weren't great... By now, Kamala was just hoping to move out of the unemployed status--never mind the income. They stood in front of the checkout desk. When the owner of the bookshop turned around, things immediately took a turn for the worst. The owner of the establishment--a stubborn, middle-aged woman in a bland, cornflower-blue dress--glared at them from behind her glasses and suddenly verbally accosted them. Tuning out the beginning of the harassment, the sorceress focused on the woman's hair; it was up in a severe bun like the HAEYP Headmistress, but Kamala discerned that the woman had none of the class that the Headmistress did.
Raven could feel the zephyr of hate pounding against her senses. The holy-roller storeowner seemed half a moment away from reciting Revelations. The demi-Demon felt her vision narrowing, the world slowly closing in until the only thing she could see was the self-righteous bitch. Forcing back hunter-vision and the urge to slap the overbearing owner, she made an effort not to let the woman's emotions affect her.
"-can't believe they let you out wearing what you do. Your clothes cling to you inappropriately! If you want to dress like a woman of the streets, do it elsewhere-"
The violet-haired teen's eye developed a tic, "Excuse me... did you just call my girlfriend a whore?"
The growl at the end of the last word continued long past the last syllable and gave the woman pause... but not for long. After adjusting her glasses, the owner went back into full rant. Raven could feel Kamala's anxiety rising. This was not a good situation, she realized; as the one on probation, Kammie had no means of striking back at the woman without somehow vilifying herself. It wouldn't help her at all if it somehow got back to the judge. The more the woman talked, the angrier the demi-Demon became. This was happening too much since the trial. Was there some deity that took a particular dislike to her this month?
"I've no time for disrespectful teens with their distasteful clothing and unnatural, dyed hair! It's not proper. You look downright Demonic--you ought to be ashamed of yourselves-"
Feeling particularly vindictive already, this was the last straw. Raven's voice rose up and above the bigoted, sanctimonious rant, "Do you have the slightest clue what you're talking about? Have you ever seen a Demon? If you had, you would have known that most of them are amorphous when they chose to be. The only thing that would distinguish one of them from any of your daily customers... is their aura. It takes training to sense an aura. ...You could be in the presence of a Demon right now and you wouldn't know it."
A hard glint entered the bookstore owner's eyes. Her face turned red as she washed over with priggish rage, "You're in one o' them cults, aren't ya? Well, you can just take your Satan-worshipping-"
"Trigon."
"What?"
"There was once a cult that owed its allegiance to Trigon the Terrible. Satan is, in my opinion, less of a threat. Take a fallen Angel and add a little jealousy mixed with a desire for revenge and you have a one-way ticket to an apocalyptic holy war. He obviously isn't interested in wholesale destruction; there would be nothing left for him to rule if he won.
"That's not the case with Trigon. He didn't have any issues with the Powers That Be. Trigon the Terrible was an interdimensional Demon that just ripped through the dimensional boundaries and subjugated the masses, either turning them into his disposable slaves or completely cleansing the worlds of all life. He reduced entire Realms to so much blood-soaked ash and molten slag with no respect for any deity or higher authority. Lucifer wouldn't dare make such a move.
"Thankfully, you don't have to worry about the likes of him. Trigon is dead. His daughter killed him. You should be grateful to her--and grateful that she doesn't lose her temper as easily as her father."
Carefully, she let her anger-suffused aura bleed out, tainting the atmosphere with a doubt-filling miasma. Demonic auras always had an interesting effect on the average mortal. While the woman could not detect it, the aura had the desired result of making her ill at ease; the bookstore owner backed up a step. The lights flickered and went out, leaving the three in the dark; the only light came through the door and windows at the front of the store. The speakers about the store suddenly ceased their soft gospel music, the silence deafening with its absence.
She wasn't truly losing hold of herself, but she let her second tier of eyes open and the quadruple red eyes pinned the woman with a soul-penetrating glare. Even though shorter than the storeowner, Raven's presence easily dominated. Her voice rang out in dual tones.
"Be very grateful."
The over-pious woman stumbled back and quite nearly fainted. As it was, bookstore owner hyperventilated; the whites of her eyes clearly visible.
"Come, Kamala. We are leaving this cesspool of idiocy."
The two departed the store. Outside, Raven dispelled her secondary, doom-ridden oculars. Beside her, Kamala cackled.
"That... was so totally wicked!"
Shrugging lightly, she took the hex-caster's hand and pulled her further away from the God-mongering woman's store, "...Just don't tell Robin I did that."
That earlier episode had brightened Kamala's otherwise miserable day. The two were now walking aimlessly down the sidewalks, taking notice of this and that in the windows, but not stopping. For now, the job seeking was all but abandoned unless something really jumped out at the pink-haired girl.
The light conversation they shared suddenly drifted as something caught Kammie's eye. Pulling Raven across the street, she entered the store and inhaled the scent of herbs and incense. A smile lit her face as she looked around. It was a cultural store run by an Indian family. Almost immediately, she was drawn to a table where a large, string instrument sat alone as if placed with a reverence. The ex-villainess trailed a finger over the smooth wood.
The father of the family--and primary owner of the shop--came over. He looked to be around 40, but the years had been kind to him. He was dressed in dark brown pants and a white, button-up shirt. His black hair was just starting to lighten around his sideburns.
"This is not a guitar, young lady, please be careful."
"I know; it's a beautiful sitar. I'd give it a wonderful home if I could afford it," Kamala said wistfully, nudging the price card on the table next to the sitar.
"Instruments are to be played, not hung on walls as decoration," the man said.
"Then perhaps we should play something," she replied in Hindi.
The man's brows rose. He generally catered to the small Indian population and he wasn't expecting the pale, gothic girl to be one of them. Looking beyond her eyes and skin, he could see some resemblance to his daughter, who was helping his wife with the inventory at the time.
Kamala gently lifted the instrument and took it over to a group of drum-like instruments. Sitting down by them on the carpets laid out as padding, she plucked the sitar a few times with the mezrab. It was in perfect tune. Curiously, Raven followed. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but she didn't want anything bad to happen.
"Carefully, carefully," he said in his native tongue, not wanting the young woman to mishandle the sitar.
Raven noticed that Kamala, sitting there on the rugs with the instrument between her left foot and right knee, looked so content and relaxed while she admired the sound the strings made. The feeling of home emanated from her mind and the mystic Titan could feel the nostalgia and longing.
The sound of the string instrument brought the man's son, who appeared to be in his early twenties, and a few customers to see this oddity. It certainly was a sight--some pale girl with punk-styled pink hair holding an instrument of traditional music. When she began to play, however, any misconceptions were put aside.
After several bars of some memorized melody to become reacquaint herself with the old friend, Kamala grinned and closed her eyes. Suddenly, the air was with a high-pitched series of plucks that reminded her of metallic jingling... maybe dropped keys, loose change, or something. The sound continued for only a bit before the main tune began in a low base resonance.
By now, the daughter and mother of the family-run store had come out to see who was playing. The daughter couldn't have been more than 12 years old. There were some eight people and Raven standing there. Two bars in, Raven and the son were smirking. The unpredictable young woman was playing Money by Pink Floyd.
Her left fingers deftly slid over the strings while her right hand rested at the based and flicked rapidly at the strings. Surprisingly, the sound of hollow percussion instruments joined in the song, providing a rhythm to her melody. Glancing behind her, the sorceress saw the son of the storeowner had taken up the tabla. He nodded to her. They played relaxed and smoothly, the song flowing out and catching the people in its hypnotic repetition.
"-but if you ask for a rise; it's no surprise; that they're giving; none away... away... away... away..."
The pink-haired young woman's voice was strong enough not to be drowned out by the instruments, but still soft in tone as she recited the lyrics with a fluidity that had the small group entranced as much as her plucking. After some six minutes, the song ended and the small group treated Kamala to a small round of applause. She nodded her thanks.
As the last note faded, she began another tune without missing a beat--this one was much shorter. The song's tone began low, rose up, and fell... and then again. Finally, the song began in earnest; it sounded a little strange with the string instrument replacing the usual saxophone. Still, Kammie had a savvy jazz sense and the sitar was more than a fair substitute. The new song had the usually stoic Raven grinning. It was the Pink Panther theme.
'Only Jinx...'
The family could not afford to hire the pink-haired hex-caster, even if they had been inclined to do so. Still, it was the most amicable turn-away she'd had and the impromptu performance made up for it. She spoke shortly with the family and found that they had moved here when their son was eight. Ultimately, Kamala decided to keep this little place in mind when she could afford things.
While able to write Sanskrit, Raven did not speak Hindi or write Devanagari script. The violet-haired teen idled about the store and retrieved some incense to purchase before they left. When the mystic Titan saw Kamala eying a murti of Vishnu, she waited until the girl had moved off to look at something else to pick up the figurine and take her items to the register. She left with the small, paper bag.
Kamala didn't find a job, but both teens felt the day was well spent. They walked back toward the Tower since neither was in a rush to head back; along the way, the sorceress grinned and repeatedly glanced at Raven. Finally, the violet-haired girl cracked.
"What?"
The pink-haired girl's grin widened, "Back at that bookshop... you said I was your girlfriend...!"
The demi-Demon blinked, mentally reviewing just what she had said since she had been a little too annoyed to think about it. ...Yes, she had said that. It was just a reflex, really. A small smile quirked at her lips and she grabbed Kamala's hand.
"Imagine that."
When they returned home around 5:30, they wore smiles. Kamala was laughing and Raven chuckled gently with her as they quietly discussed music and exchanged a few jokes at the bookstore owner's expense. Richard watched them come in and fall onto the couch. Gar briefly looked over from the wall-sized screen to the quietly murmuring pair, but navigating the Vampire Kain through the Sarafan Stronghold in the last game of the Legacy of Kain series swiftly recaptured his attention.
"I have something for you," said Raven.
"Oh?"
Reaching into her bag from the Indian store, she retrieved the murti. She held it out to the pink-haired girl. The mystic Titan hoped that it was the right one; she would feel rather stupid if this wasn't the murti the pink-haired girl admired earlier.
Eyes wide, Kamala reverently accepted the five-inch figurine of the four-armed, blue-skinned man sitting majestically upon a purple cushion. After a few moments of admiration, she set the murti on the coffee table with the utmost care, turned, and pulled Raven to her. The kiss was chaste by most standards, but the emotions rolling off her into the demi-Demon's mind were almost numbingly blissful. It was a small thing, the present in and of itself, but what it meant to Kamala was almost immeasurable.
Neither girl could say how long they sat there, pressed together from their lips all the way down to their feet. The embrace was full of a warmth and closeness that had nothing to do with their bodies. At the sound of a cleared throat, they slowly and reluctantly broke apart. A blushing Gar stood behind the couch, his eyes focused everywhere but upon them.
"Uhm," his voice cracked, "dinner's ready..."
After dinner, the sorceress and mystic Titan sat down on the couch. The game had caught their eye; the dialogue interested Raven. Gar went to explain that this sort of game was outside his typical sphere of interest, but he was fond of it nonetheless. The immense history and plot twists had sucked him in. The dialogue, though massive in its presence throughout the games, provided a backdrop as good as any movie he'd ever seen.
Gar told them how he first picked up the series because of the "cool-looking dude" on the front of the Soul Reaver box. From there, he brought it home and was quickly sucked into the amazing world. The green teen admitted that some of the dialogue was above his ability to comprehend (he didn't admit to playing with a dictionary sitting next to him). The shape-shifter enjoyed the games for what they were: an interactive story.
When Gar finished explaining the history of Nosgoth, Raven's eye had turned to the first game. The green teen told her the graphics weren't anything special in the early games since they were for older consoles, but the story was gigantic and allowed him to ignore that. Having put off his dish duty long enough--it was his turn tonight--the shape-shifter left them to it.
Raven wasn't much one for playing videogames... this was an understatement similar to 'the universe is big.' However, she remained interested in the atmospheric music and unfolding plot as the HIVE Five member navigated Kain through the areas in Blood Omen. The game had an immersive lore, intelligent plot, and good voice acting. She was pleasantly surprised. After a few hours, the demi-Demon's head was resting in the hex-caster's lap while Kammie went through various rooms and corridors in the rambling death trap that was Nupraptor's Keep. After she had slain Nupraptor the Mentalist, the ex-villainess saved her game and sat back. It was a quarter past midnight.
Kammie picked up the remote and began flicking through channels rapidly. After several flickers of images, Raven snagged the remote out of her hands. Violet eyes glowered at her.
"Slow down. You can't even see what's on the channels."
"It's called channel surfing, that's just how it's done."
Rolling her eyes, the demi-Demon quietly flipped through channels, heading steadily upward.
#-this gorgeous, custom-made-# Click.
#-genuine, accept no imitators-# Click.
#-totally authentic-# Click.
#-but only while supplies-# Click.
#-are limited-# Click.
#-so call now-# Click.
#-at our toll free-# Click.
Click. Click. Click!
"And that's why we channel surf," said her pillow.
With a grumble, Raven continued changing channels.
#-some restrictions may apply.# Click.
#-Uhn! Harder-# Click.
#You seem familiar... have I threatened you before?# asked Captain Jack Sparrow.
Kamala blinked, "Was that porn?"
"No."
Click. #They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo...# rumbled Riddick.
The ex-villainess stole the remote and turned back a couple channels. She began laughing, "It is porn! Titans Tower gets porn channels!"
After ripping the remote out of the zany, pink-haired girl's hands, the demi-Demon sat up from her jovial pillow and stood. She crossed her arms.
"It doesn't matter, Kamala. Just because the Tower has access to channels with pornographic material-"
"Lesbian porn," Kammie interjected, taking in the slick, moaning, adult film starlets.
"Whatever... Just because we get it doesn't mean we watch it."
Reclining on the couch with her head propped up by an elbow in supremely feline fashion, the sorceress looked up at her girlfriend, "You mean to tell me that three guys in a tower with nigh unlimited media resources doesn't scope out the occasional skin-flick?"
The mystic Titan hesitated awkwardly--she couldn't say... and if they did, she certainly didn't want to know! One of the women on screen let out a groan so blatantly erotic that Raven had to turn around to see what caused it. The frame unrepentantly zoomed in, branding her mind with explicit images that would likely take months to stuff down, knowing her troublesome emotions. She dreaded her next trip into her mindscape...
The door to the common room opened. Raven's head whipped to it to watch in horror as Richard took several steps in before stopping.
"Raven, I heard..."
Even as his sentence trailed off, Raven punched at the power button on the remote to turn off the floor-to-ceiling, wall-sized image of sapphic coupling.
"...Were you watching porn?" asked the stunned Boy Wonder.
Suddenly, a mad fit of cackling erupted from the couch. He heard the squealing laughter continue until he could see Kamala's kicking feet over the couch. In her uninhibited mirth, she fell off the cushions with a thump; the hex-caster paused only to let out a graceless 'oof' before the giggles recommenced from the floor. Richard shook his head.
"Jinx. ...Never mind, that answers all my questions."
So saying, the Titans leader strode out of the common room and went back to bed. Whatever events led to what he'd just seen, he didn't need to know. Besides, he didn't want to stay out too long lest the companion warming his bed decided he wasn't coming back...
--END CHAPTER--
Wow! There was a bit of everything in here! Happy, sad, aww, action, fun, humor, anger... yeah, I really crammed it in there. Rae's emotions certainly got a workout this chapter, didn't they? Jinx's all but has her Raven in the bag. Or is it in the sack? Hm, well, either way is good!
Hope you enjoyed all the pink playtime. There's two more chapters to go, so review and you'll get the final steps to her plans. I have no words for just how much I'm enjoying the insanity of this little side-trip away from my major work, Chronicle of Darkness. It's a welcome change and it gives me a sense of fulfillment to be able to crank these chapters out and finish the story instead of having to slog through an epic with as-yet undetermined length!
Anyway, see you next chapter!
-Lynx Klaw