With a Tameranean tune in her heart, Starfire zipped merrily about the common room dusting, polishing and generally putting things in order. She was just about to begin cleaning the room's massive TV monitor when the swishing of doors caught her attention. Redirecting her gaze, she found the love of her life, Dick Grayson standing at the entrance of the common room wearing his usual hero attire.
Several years back, The Boy Wonder had gone through a sort of identity crisis and entered what would be a period of self-discovery. It was a very difficult time for the team as for several weeks he barely said a word to anyone, even Starfire. When he did speak it was direct and to the point and usually had to do with a mission. Despite all this, the team never gave up on him and eventually with help from his friends and Starfire's never ending support he was able to conquer his inner demons and as a result ended up a better hero and a better person. His Robin persona would then dropped in favor of a new one that reflected his new found identity. On that day, Nightwing was born.
Upon seeing her beaux enter the room, Starfire's face lit up.
"Good morning, my love," she said, immediately soaring over to him and wrapping him up in her deceptively strong arms. "I did not see you when I awoke. Did you have trouble sleeping?"
"No, Star, I slept fine," he replied with a charming smile. Truthfully he had barely slept at all the night before, opting instead to spend his time trying to figure out the location of a group of thugs who stole a shipment of high-tech weaponry. Of course, he didn't dare tell Starfire this, wanting not to upset her. She had spent far too long worrying over him during his identity crisis and the last thing he wanted to do was put her through something like that all over again.
"Wonderful," she exclaimed joyfully. "I was just engaging in the traditional Earth custom of Spring Cleaning. I never thought that manual labor could be so rewarding." With that, she soared back over to the TV and returned to her work.
Nightwing just smiled and shook his head. She really was one in a million.
There was another swishing of the common room doors followed by the entrance of Beast Boy and Raven; Raven appearing her usual stoic self and Beast Boy grinning like the cat that ate the canary as he carried the game box under his arm. Nightwing gave his usual morning greetings to which they responded in kind before continuing on their way. Beast Boy placed the box on the table in front of the sofa as Raven took her seat. He then quickly got a chair for himself and placed it on the opposite side.
"Why don't you set up while I go get us some drinks?" he said after setting the chair down.
Arching an eyebrow was Raven's only response.
"The game could take a while to finish," he reasoned. "Is ice tea okay?"
"Sure," she said, realizing that he was very much right.
Without another word, he hurried off to the kitchen to fetch the refreshments. Upon reaching the fridge he noticed Cyborg for the first time. The metal man was busying himself in front of the stove cooking what else, but a big pan of eggs, sausage, bacon and other breakfast meat products.
While the sight of cooking flesh still bothered Beast Boy to no end, he had long ago relented that there was no way to change Cyborg's eating habits. Cyborg felt a similar way about Beast Boy and so the two had agreed that while they didn't agree with the other's food choice they would at least respect it. Breakfasts sure were a whole lot quieter after that, much to Raven's delight.
So, ignoring his metal friend's meal, Beast Boy simply offered a kindly morning greeting as he opened the fridge and retrieved the bottle of ice tea.
"What's going on, B?" Cyborg replied.
"Not much. Me and Raven are just going to play a little game," said the changeling, offering a knowing smile.
Cyborg, knowing Beast Boy's motives, lowered his voice slightly.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked. "You know what Raven can be like. There's a good chance you're taking you're life into your own hands here."
"I do that everyday," the changeling responded cheerfully.
"I guess so," said Cyborg, chuckling a little. "Just want you to know the risks is all."
"Cy, you as well as anyone one of us, should know that some things are worth the risk," replied Beast Boy, stealing a glance back at the girl sitting on the couch and smiling softly.
Cyborg, noticing his friend's expression, nodded his head in agreement.
"Alright, man. Good luck," he said, returning to his cooking.
"Thanks," said Beast Boy.
With a drink in each hand, he returned to Raven just as she finished laying out the final piece.
"There you are, mademoiselle. A glass of the finest ice tea," said Beast Boy in his best French accent, setting the drinks down on the table in front of her and giving a deep bow before looking up and smiling.
"Thanks," she responded flatly, clearly not enjoying the act quite as much as Beast Boy.
Undeterred, by her reaction, he took his seat.
"Alright," he said. "Who goes first?"
There was nothing. There was no land, no sky, no life. His prison was a black, empty void of which he was the only occupant. It had been only about ten years since he had been banished to this place, but to him every passing second felt like an eternity.
Closing his eyes, he imagined the face of his jailor. No doubt she had changed in all this time; grown into the woman she never had any right to be. He imagined her traitorous form and immediately felt his rage begin to grow. However, despite the anger brewing inside, just begging to be unleashed he kept his resolve. Long had past the time for childish screaming and thrashing at the unending darkness, cursing his tormentor's name. He needed to stay calm, gather his strength. Soon would be his time to escape this hell and make suffer all those who stood against him.
Raising his horned head and with his eyes glowing a ghastly and terrifying hellfire, his deep, menacing voice broke through the darkness.
"Soon, my daughter."