Author's Notes: Couple of things to clear up. Yes, I plan to make this story into a series, with the OCs being forced into one world after another, so they could end up next in anything from Artemis Fowl's world to Monk's. Two, I plan to get back (finally, poor things) to Key, Matt, and Slade in the next chapter. Sorry for the delay, but I plan to give you plenty, plenty of chapters to make up for it! Special thanks to my reviews, and enjoy the next chapter!
—Chapter Nine A: The Mystery and Wonder that is Lore—
I have to find out why he can't control his aura, and to do that I need to understand it. My knowledge on auras is woefully inadequate.
Raven was in her room, prowling through book after book, searching for any mention of auras, trying to find something that would help her understand Lore's unusual abilities.
So very strange. Since when is an aura invisible? And since when does it have such a wide, yet specific range? It goes against everything I thought I knew about auras, but an aura is the only thing that makes sense…
Very unfortunately, Lore's powers also seemed to go against everything the vast majority of these authors knew as well.
Auras never control their owner, she read. Auras sleep until they are awoken, and even then only become useful through decades of extremely harsh training. Training that made her own seem mild in comparison.
Yet, Lore was far too young to have been through decades of training, and he very clearly had no control over his aura. He had implied it was something he was born with, that had always been part of him.
Raven frowned.
His appearance is certainly strange, with that white hair… Especially since he as good as said no one else in his family had that color. And he was very clear that he was, by blood, a normal human. Or at least thought he was. Perhaps the hair is some sort of sign of a special type of aura…
She buried herself in another book.
Healing, animal control, plant control, white-hair, conspicuous features… They all have to be tied together somehow. But how? And how is it that the healing works on humans, but his control only extends over animals and plants? Unless he has not truly tapped his full potential? Or maybe it truly isn't control, but just some sort of vague suggestion? Perhaps humans, having a stronger sense of self, simply have too much control over their own brains to be bowled over by Lore's emotions? That would explain Beastboy. He's always been insanely susceptible to any sort of psychic suggestion. But Lore had said it had NEVER affected a human before, which implies that it should be Beastboy's animal instincts being affected, which matches what I saw. He wasn't acting at all like a mirror of Lore's emotional state… Perhaps because it's linked so strongly to his emotions…
Robin knocked on the door.
"Raven?"
"Yes?" she replied, not looking up from the book and certainly not bothering to get up, walk over, and open the door.
"I assume you already know Arthur is a girl?"
"Yes."
"Her name is Artemis, but she's very sensitive about the whole thing, so I've agreed that we'll call her Arthur and treat her the same as one of the guys."
"Alright."
"Any breakthroughs in your research?"
"…"
"You'll figure it out, Raven. You're the only one who can."
Nancy, owner and designer for the boutique Nancy's, was one of the many clothing designers that provided custom-made and tailored clothing free of charge to the Teen Titans, for four simple reasons. One, they had once saved her life. Two, they had twice saved her shop. Three, they were so incredibly unique it was a fantastic challenge. Four, it was great publicity when they wore her designs.
And so it was that her boutique that was to be their first, and last, stop for Lore's new clothes.
Nancy, a freakishly tall woman in her forties with dyed pink hair in a modern, slightly punkish style, saw them and quickly, and rather rudely, brushed past the rest of her customers to issue her customary greetings.
"Beastboy! I have the cutest new hat for you to try, and a great new design for sneakers! And Starfire! Oh, dearie, you have GOT to see this new formal gown I have in the back!" she gushed, grabbing the little green shapeshifter in a suffocating hug and smiling hugely at the model-worthy Tamaranian.
"Yo, Nance!" Beastboy managed to say, freeing himself from her arms. "Maybe some other time. We've got a friend with a bit of a problem."
"Yes! Friend Lore is in need of new clothing!" declared Starfire, pulling forward a wide-eyed Lore.
Nancy's mouth dropped open and her eyes swept over the incredibly beautiful, almost alien, appearance of Lore. She leaped forward and grabbed him, examining his features at a distance way too close for comfort.
"My god my god my GOD!" the designer repeated, her eyes growing wider and wider. "Look at the angle of these cheekbones! The slant of these big, lavender eyes! This perfect nose! Those pretty ears! Wide, smooth lips! Long, elegant neck!" Without asking, she tore his hair tie out and watched with a completely fanatical look as his perfectly straight and freakishly smooth snow-white hair fell across his shoulders and down his back, fanning out as it fell all the way to his waist. "That HAIR!" she squealed, running her hands through it.
Lore was seriously alarmed, and looked towards Starfire and Beastboy for help. Beastboy shook off the now-familiar 'must help Lore!' instinct and just smiled to let the strange boy know everything was fine. Starfire watched with nearly as much excitement as Nancy herself, eager to see what Nancy would come up with.
Nancy's eyes eagerly swept downwards, frowning at the stained robe. "My lord! Who put you in something that makes you look like a child playing dress up? A beauty like you deserves to walk runways, not cosplay at fanclubs! COME!"
And Nancy dragged Lore off to the fitting rooms in the back, practically shoved him onto the platform she used for measuring, ripped off the robe (thank goodness he was wearing some sort of thin undergarments beneath it), whipped out her tape, and got to work, talking rapidly all the while, not giving Lore any chance to interrupt.
"No WAY you're human, baby. Not with looks like that, NO way! You'll consider being my spokesman, right? Of course you will, especially after the absolutely GORGEOUS outfit I have in mind for you! Forget outfit, I'll give you a whole stinking wardrobe! Oh my GOD! I didn't know anyone could have measurements this perfect! You must be an elf, right? Oh, Lord! A real, live elf! 'Cause I've seen those Martians and the Lunarians, and trust me dearie, none look a THING like you! There's something totally not-human, but still not that whole 'alien' vibe those people from other planets got, ya get me?"
Nancy finished her measuring and whipped out a sketchpad. Her hands a blur as she scribbled and sketched faster than the eye could follow. "We need something BEAUTIFUL! Something WONDERFUL! Something that screams BEAUTY COMING THROUGH!"
"I actually…" began Lore, looking uncomfortable.
"Nonsense!" declared Nancy, already knowing what he was going to say from his mild mannerisms. "Someone as beautiful as you absolutely MUST be showed off! It would be a SIN to hide you away! Now you absolutely MUST let me put makeup on you!"
Lore actually bolted. There was a loud flapping and rustling sound as the hundreds of birds in nearby trees suddenly took off.
Starfire and Beastboy caught him before he even got out of the fitting rooms, each grabbing an arm and hauling him back to the platform and the rather extreme designer.
"Please, no! She's insane!" whimpered Lore pitifully.
"Miss Nancy makes the most glorious clothing," explained Starfire. "You must be patient with her exuberant conduct, friend Lore."
"Oh, don't be a baby!" exclaimed Nancy. "Just a touch of eye-liner and there'll be lines of people begging you to sign contracts with their companies! You could be a star! An idol! But don't forget that I called first dibs."
"No," said Lore, shaking his head rapidly and pulling away from her grabby hands.
"Well, fine then. Hold this."
Surprised she had given up so quickly, or at least seemed to, Lore had no idea how to react when Nancy dumped a shirt in his arms. Followed by another shirt, and another, then a jacket, then three pairs of pants, then four pairs of slacks, two more shirts… He soon was practically buried under a mountain of clothes.
"I'll just need you to try these on, tailor a couple of them to the right specifics, and BANG! Instant hottie! You'll have girls AND boys drooling over you!"
"I don't want BOYS drooling over me!" exclaimed Lore in genuine alarm. Actually, he didn't want ANYONE drooling over him, but the idea of guys being attracted to him completely threw all other thoughts from his mind. What kind of world was this? Starfire had to actually grab Beastboy's arm for a second to keep him from mauling Nancy at Lore's panic. They would later notice, as they left the store, that the trees nearest the store had nearly doubled in size.
"Well, fine, but you'll have a tough time as my model with that kind of attitude! And I'm not sacrificing your looks just for your own convenience!"
Regardless of the fact that she made absolutely no sense, she dragged him into a room to force him to try on the various pieces of clothing.
Beastboy and Starfire listened to Nancy's nonstop babbling with interest as she made Lore try on outfit after outfit, mixing and matching, before dragging him out in some sort of loose, white outfit with a distinctive oriental feel to it. She again transformed into a blur, moving so fast, Beastboy and Starfire were beginning to wonder if she had some sort of connection to the Flash.
Sure enough, when she was done, Beastboy had to nudge Starfire to stop her from drooling. He'd had to blink several times himself to see if the sight in front of him was real.
Lore in a robe had been surreal and somewhat dreamlike. Lore in a designer outfit custom tailored just for him by someone bound and determined to highlight his every perfect feature was simply… whoa.
The outfit itself was incredible, and something any model, actress, singer, or heiress would kill for. It had started as some sort of white Chinese casual outfit, with a high collar and calf-length leggings, and Nancy had stitched in vivid red trim around the edges, light purple ribbon to highlight the trim measurements of his waist, arms, and legs, and blue embroidery along the sleeves and the ends of the leggings. Somehow, Nancy had even procured matching slippers, managed to pin back a section of Lore's incredible hair, and put black eyeliner around his large, purple eyes, making them appear twice their size. (Lore hadn't noticed the eyeliner yet, having quite lost track of what was going on a while ago.)
Lore apparently hadn't quite realized she was finally finished. He just stood there.
Nancy admired her work, and her beautiful new model, for all of thirty seconds, before lifting two fingers to her lips and blasting out the loudest whistle anyone in the store, as well as up and down the street outside, had ever heard.
"EVERYONE! ADMIRE MY GENIUS!" she declared, grabbing Lore by the wrist and yanking him to the middle of the store, where Lore suddenly found himself being stared at by dozens of fashionable young women and several trendy young men.
After all of a ten second dead silence, the questions started, which Nancy happily fielded.
"Yes, yes. This is my new model, Lore. Isn't he absolutely gorgeous? Yes, I do believe he's some sort of elf. The Teen Titans brought him to me! No, you can't have him! He's mine! Yes, indeed it shall be an exclusive contract! No stealing! Photographs? Why not?"
Beastboy and Starfire met alarmed glances and quickly shoved through the crowd to rescue Lore, and in the end had to actually use their powers in order to snatch the poor teenager from Nancy's grasp and fly him back to the Tower.
Robin would not be happy with the "BEASTBOY AND STARFIRE KIDNAP NEW SUPERMODEL!" headline in all the newspapers the next day. Nor the hundreds of photographs of Lore suddenly splashed all over magazine covers.
Just as Lore wouldn't be happy hours later, when he finally caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. All the plants on the island where the Teen Titans' Tower was tripled in size that night, and Beastboy shredded his bed and three chairs before coming to his senses.
—Chapter Nine B: How NOT to blow up Titans Tower—
Cyborg had just spent the better part of two hours explaining to Ray just what exactly electricity was, how it was directed, what it could be measured in, and how it was manufactured, since they obviously did not harvest lightning or static, as seemed to be the extent of Ray's experience.
If only Ray actually generated his own electricity like most electricity-powered meta-humans, instead of absorbing it from his surroundings. This would be SO much easier if that were the case. Then Ray would probably be an expert already and not need this special training session. Certainly not in such depth.
He could only cross his fingers and hope that he wouldn't have to give similar lectures on the fundamentals of heat and light.
Ray had already accidentally blown up two generators and melted three, but it finally looked like they were getting somewhere. The light elemental's eyes were no longer glazed in incomprehension, for one. For another, there was a trace of understanding, of confidence even, as he stretched his hands out over yet another generator, and it activated and began humming with power.
Cyborg honestly expected it to start to overheat and melt like the last two, but to his surprise, a smile blossomed on Ray's face. The generator continued to hum efficiently along.
Ray slowly pulled one hand away from the generator, and a small ball of electricity appeared in it.
Cyborg readied himself to leap for cover.
Ray closed his glowing eyes. The generator continued to hum, and a visual trail of electricity jumped from it to Ray's hand, being absorbed into his very skin. The glowing orb in his other hand grew brighter.
The light elemental smirked and pulled his hand away from the generator, which slowly whirred to a stop. Then he clenched the hand holding the ball of lightning into a fist and it disappeared into thin air. Well, not entirely. Cyborg detected the level of static charge in the air rise around Ray's person, but that was only to be expected.
"Well done," he commended.
Ray's smile was absolutely enormous. "That felt… incredible! The way this electricity of yours flows… it's entirely different. So much more… mild. Cheerful. Before, I was using too much strength and too little focus, but I think I get it now!"
"Let's test that," said Cyborg, pulling out an old PC he'd salvaged for parts. It was opened up to reveal the delicate hardware, and everything was there. "Get this baby to hum like the generator."
Well, let's just say Ray still had a ways to go before he could handle something quite so fragile.
"Maybe we should try something like different wattages of light bulbs…" sighed Cyborg, frowning over the melted glop on the table. He mentally prepared himself to go through boxes upon boxes of light bulbs, and sincerely hoped they would have enough in storage.
He congratulated himself for thinking to put his T-Car, his precious baby, well out of Ray's reach in a separate garage that normally was just used for spare parts and equipment.
Ray flushed red in embarrassment, scolding himself mentally and sure that any other elemental in his team would have mastered something like this the first time they'd tried it.
—Chapter Nine C: Robin versus Artemis—
Artemis reached the point in her cooking where everything could be left alone for the next couple hours until dinner. The soup was down to a simmer, the cake was frosted and covered, the two chickens were in the oven, and the four different salads were in the fridge. The freshly baked bread had just finished and she set it aside in a basket, covering it with a clean cloth to keep the loaves warm and moist.
Reville had actually helped her out for the last half hour. He didn't say much, but somehow his presence was comforting. He didn't really have any skill at cooking, but he set up the dining room table without complaint, and exactly to her specifications.
The bodyguard gave everything one last look over, then nodded to herself. Good. Satisfactory.
"Are you really going to fight with Robin?" asked Reville, watching her with concern in his large, black eyes.
"Of course."
"What if you get hurt?"
She frowned at the empath, but he seemed serious. "We are merely sparring. Testing our skills against each other. There is no need to be concerned."
Reville frowned. "I seem to have a different idea of what sparring is. Where I come from, any fight is to the death. Fighters are all assassins."
Artemis frowned. "That is very different from my world, and I am sure from this world as well. Does this mean you have killed? Despite your limp, you move with skill."
The empath blinked in surprise. She had noticed? "No, I never killed anyone. As an empath, I was excused from combat. Sensing another's pain renders me useless."
"Raven manages just fine," said Robin casually, entering the kitchen and catching the end part of the conversation. "Perhaps she can help you with that."
Reville turned sharp eyes towards the boy wonder. "You make it sound as if my learning to fight is important."
Robin folded his arms and appraised the black-haired teen in front of him.
"It is. I will explain later."
Reville's gaze turned into a harsh glare, then he got to his feet. "I do not wish to fight. Ever."
"Even if your life is on the line?"
"Yes."
"What if it's another's life on the line?"
Reville's black eyes narrowed. "And why would you ask something like that?"
Robin frowned. The empath was dodging the question. Though, at least that meant that he would consider fighting for someone else, if not for himself. But Reville's gaze showed determination on this point. Robin mentally shrugged and turned to Artemis.
"Are you ready to spar, Arthur?"
"That would be fine," was her reply, taking off the apron and folding it. She neatly laid it in a drawer, then turned to follow Robin.
"Would you like to watch, Reville?"
"Those sorts of things quite lose their charm when you feel every blow on both sides," said Reville, waving a hand dismissively. "Have fun hurting each other."
The indoor gym was impressive, as really should have been expected. In the middle of the many weights, treadmills, bikes, and various exercise equipment, there was a wide raised platform for sparring. Artemis stepped up on it, Robin across from her.
She drew her sword. "You mean to test me, yes? Sword, or hand-to-hand?"
"Let's try both. Swords until one of us is disarmed, then hand-to-hand."
"You use a sword?"
"Occasionally. I prefer my bo-staff."
"Then by all means, please use it. I would take your not using your best weapon as an insult."
"If you insist," smirked Robin, pulling out his bo-staff and snapping the pieces together until it was at full length. He readied himself, and opposite him Artemis did likewise.
Her position was good. Skillful and alert. No obvious holes in her defense.
Robin charged. Crack! Crack! Swoosh! Sword met staff skillfully and the dance began.
It continued for some time, Artemis taking far more hits than Robin, when Robin noticed something strange.
She did not move her position at all. She did not lose any ground, which was commendable, but neither did she gain any. Nor did it seem possible for her to be disarmed, as she held on no matter what type of hit she took.
Of course, he realized. A bodyguard will have someone behind them. They cannot move while they fight, or they risk endangering the one they're protecting. Nor can they risk losing their weapon, because, since they can't move, they can't retrieve their weapon or easily draw another. I wonder if she even knows what she's doing.
Since he couldn't disarm her, and had already judged her sword skills as satisfactory, he tripped her and pinned her to the ground with his staff.
"Do you know you don't move at all when you fight?"
"What are…" she paused and frowned. "You're right. I never thought of that. You constantly shifted position and stance."
"I'll teach you to reposition yourself. There is no reason for your style of fighting in a team battle. Otherwise, I must say I am impressed." He removed the staff and held out a hand to help her up.
"Well, I'm not," she practically growled, shoving his hand aside and pushing herself up. "That was a pathetic performance on my part. I couldn't get any good blows in, and I took far too many. My father would be most displeased."
"If you had not guarded your position so carefully, you would have easily dodged at least half the blows you received. Now, part two?"
She sheathed her sword and got into position. Robin was surprised to see her hands fisted, having expected some sort of martial arts stance. Again, not a hole in her defenses.
The fight began again. Artemis was no acrobat like Robin. There was no flipping or twisting or leaping. What she did was punch, and she was incredibly strong. Robin estimated her blows to have the weight of Cyborg's, which was very impressive for someone with no superpowers. After she left some dents in the platform where he'd dodged, he decided it was more from being an elf than from any type of training. That amount of raw power was inhuman.
And apparently Artemis had quite the temper as well. She was quickly getting irritated at herself for not being able to catch Robin. Her punches grew stronger and faster as she stopped subconsciously holding back as the fight lengthened without her making any kind of progress.
She still didn't give or take any ground, though.
Robin sighed and ended the fight by flipping her over a shoulder and slamming her to the ground, then pinning her.
She sighed and gave up. "You win. By a landslide," she grumbled, annoyance rich in her voice. She looked up at him appraisingly as he let her up. "You are extremely skilled. I have never seen your like."
Robin laughed. "If you were from this world, you would not be so surprised. I was trained by the absolute best."
"Even the best teacher cannot train a pathetic student," said Artemis, not letting him brush off her compliment.
"Well, thank you. Would you like to try again? I'll show you how to move properly during a fight."
She smiled slightly, but her eyes were beaming in excitement. "Yes. I would like that."
Raven nearly crashed into Reville as she headed up the stairs to the kitchen and main room for dinner. She had been reading a book as she walked, and as usual, she blocked out almost all of her empathic abilities while she was concentrating on the material, in order to focus properly.
Thus it was a surprise when she let down her guard and was flooded with resentment. Anger. Self-disgust. And deep, deep jealousy.
"What on earth is wrong with you?" demanded Raven, moving to stand in his way.
He tried to brush past her, his face an unreadable mask, but she held up a hand glowing with black energy and shoved him to the wall.
"You WILL answer me!" she ordered. "I am not letting an angry empath/telepath endanger my friends! You cannot let yourself get into this state!"
Reville took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Raven felt most of the anger subside. The jealousy and self-disgust lingered, however.
"I cannot lie," he said, glaring at her. "So I will not be telling you I am fine. But I will not tell you what has upset me."
"You cannot lie?" She frowned, actually sensing the honesty in this. "You mean you're very bad at it?"
"No, I simply cannot. And I do not want to discuss this, so you will get nowhere no matter how you push me."
"Jerk."
Reville flinched. The self-disgust soared.
"I will not hurt anyone here. I promise. I am nowhere near my breaking point. This is a deeply personal matter I will have to resolve on my own."
Raven matched her eyes to his and stared into his black pupils for a long moment.
Deeply personal. Self-disgust. Jealousy…
"Does this have anything to do with your leg?" she demanded.
He looked away, shame clear on his face. "Now I know why so many people want me dead," he practically growled. "That just isn't fair. Please. Leave me to sort this out."
"No. We are sorting this out now."
Before they could continue, voices came into their hearing range, and they both felt Robin and Artemis approaching. Reville groaned and Raven's eyes darted back to him as the self-disgust and jealousy spiked again.
She let him go and he quickly set off down the hall as fast as he could with his limp.
"What were you guys doing?" Raven asked casually, as Robin and Artemis came around the corner.
"We were sparring in the gym," answered Robin. "Why?"
Raven's eyes drifted in the direction Reville had set off in. "Was Reville there too?"
"No," responded Artemis. "He didn't want to. He's probably still in the kitchen or main room."
No, thought Raven. He was coming from that direction. From the gym, same as them. He must have been watching them.
"Did Reville actually say 'I will not be watching'?"
Robin frowned, not sure what Raven's point was. "No, actually. He made some sort of comment about how it's not fun to watch fighting as an empath, then he said 'have fun hurting each other'. Why?"
Raven tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'll have to get back to you on that."
Author's Notes: Hope you enjoyed, and please review!