When Marek spotted Brimstone next, he had to assume that the metal man had taken part of his suggestion to heart. The bionic wonder had moved out two hundred feet from Janis's house and literally set up camp. It surely wasn't a very hospitable environment to attempt such a feat. The snow drifts had grown much taller and the sun had been missing for nearly ten hours and showed no signs of returning soon. The rough weather didn't seem to bother BS as he easily spotted Marek riding across the covered fields on a big black monster of a stallion. In fact he managed a bright smile as he waved at the dark figure. Marek groaned, then adjusted his heading, riding into Brimstone's camp.

            The borg's tent had been abandoned, buried in the snow, but he had managed to scrape out a spot to build a very meager fire. Currently he was roasting what looked to be a large rat on a stick over the flickering flames. On closer inspection, Marek thought the catch to be too large for a rodent. It looked more like a cat, or a small dog. "I do hope you're not poaching," he remarked as he pulled the bit back on the black beast as it tossed it's head and chomped on the metal.

            "It didn't have a collar or a tag, and it sure wasn't friendly." Brimstone held up his left arm, showing the small scratches etched into the metal. "Wanna piece?" he offered.

            "Of course not," Marek replied coldly, curling his lip in disgust. He wondered if Brimstone actually intended to eat the animal, or if this was part of some smoke-and-mirror plan. If it was Timothy, he would have known for sure. The metal man was another matter. Again he had to check the stallion hard, actually cuffing him behind the ear to get him to stand still. "You are still a damned fool," he mumbled.

            "I know," Brimstone replied before biting into his prepared meal, nodding that the barbeque was indeed tasty. Of course all his kinfolk had insisted that the metal man had no tastebuds, but that hardly mattered. "You going somewhere?" he asked.

            "I have to fetch something."

            "Not Meli?"

            Marek grunted and shook his head. "She goes where she pleases, when she pleases. Why walk when one can teleport?"

            "I just still worry about her. I know she don't like the cold all that much. I'm not too thrilled with all this snow myself. Rusts the joints."

            "No one told you to wait out here for her."

            "I didn't want to impose on Janis. I get the distinct feeling she doesn't like me anymore. I can only guess that I'm not in youse guys's top ten list."

            "No, you are not," Marek agreed. "You are a man that cheats death but offers no faith in the Creator."

            The cybernetic cowboy shrugged then stuck the last of his rat into the fire, letting the meat burn away. "Except My 'creator' turned out to be nothing more and a few humans whom had no idea what they were doing exactly. I'm a mistake. An error. How about That for a letdown on the explanation of my existence?" He inhaled, catching his temper, then exhaled slowly. "If you'll excuse me, I gotta go find Dusk afore she blows up a bar or something." He kicked some of the snow over the fire, smothering it quickly as Marek turned his beast around and continued his trek through the snow.

BS stamped on the fire a few times, then looked over his shoulder to watch Marek disappear into the snowstorm. The wind seemed to pick up again, emphasized with a crash of lightning. He sighed, then picked up his duffle bag and took advantage of Marek's steed, following along in the now broken track. Even the walk wouldn't settle his mind. This gambit of his could go wrong in so many ways. He was taking an incredible long shot, even for what passed as normalcy.

            He expected the trail to dead end, so was not disgruntled when he found himself facing a large rock. His hide could feel the magic dancing along the slab of granite. The big 'borg sighed then reached down into the bag and pulled out a magic wand. Already it was sending pins and needles down his hand, through the rubber glove, but he had to give it a try. Flick and swish, right? At least that was what the merchant at the bazaar had said to do. It failed miserably, sending a flurry of sparks from the twig, up his arm and skittering off his shoulder, causing him to drop the magical item and dance around a bit, clutching his wrist.

            "Now what are you up to?" Marek walked up behind him, having dismounted to let the stallion run off his nervous energy. The sparkly lights had drawn Marek to the spot where he watched Brimstone work his useless magic. The burly blacksmith picked up the fallen wand, recognizing it as one of the cheap useless pieces of flea market junk sold commonly in the marketplace. A child's toy at best.

            Brimstone shook out his hand. "Hidden passageway, right?" he asked, nodding to the rock face.

            "That's my stable."

            The big metal man pulled himself up slightly. "You have a magic barrier on your stable?"

            "Well I don't particularly like wild animals wandering in and killing my horses. Besides, it's nothing more than a cave."

            Now the brow raised up. "You keep your horses in a cave?"

            Marek tossed the stick and picked up the saddle he had brought out, shouldering the leather embossed gear. "I live in a cave."

            "Well so do I, but I've got dragon in me. It's natural. What's your excuse?"

            The blacksmith ignored him. Instead he pushed his way out through the thigh-deep snow towards another horse, no where near the size and girth of the stallion, but not to be trifled with either. Marek dropped the saddle, then reached around the patient mare, feeling along her sides where she was carrying a foal. Brimstone had followed along, curiosity grabbing him by the nose, but kept his distance from the animal. "Dude, you need a hobby, and a girlfriend. What ever happened with that elf chickie; Isilwen, wasn't it?"

            Marek noticeably stiffened, then slowly stood upright, dusting off his hands. "She's at my mother's house. She's staying with me."

            There was no deny the affirmation in the big man's voice. Brimstone surely didn't need his empathic talent to tell him that Marek was quite fond of the elfin girl. "Ah, well then I guess you'll be getting married soon? I mean since she's taken up residence with you?"

            "If she'll have me." Marek lifted the saddle once more and slung in expertly over the mare's back.

            "Have you Asked her yet?"

            Boy was BS being nosey, but for some reason, it didn't ruffle Marek's feathers any. Like it was good to get things out. He shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything until we are bound. Women change their minds all the time."

            Brimstone chewed on that answer a moment, leaning up against the sealed rock as he mused over the answer. "So she hasn't accepted either."

            Marek slipped the bridal over the mare's brow and worked at the buckles, adjusting the leathers. "I haven't quite asked her right out to marry me either."

            The mechanical man smiled. "Not all of us are mind readers, Marek. You May want to make it official. Girls like that pomp and circumstance stuff." He fiddled with something in his pocket, deep withing the leather lining of the trenchcoat. His folly, he thought.

            "That's why I've come for Terra." The burly man finally was satisfied with the rigging and patted her neck gently

            BS couldn't help but smile, not just at the scene, but at the fuzzy warm feeling escaping from Marek himself. "You're a hopeless romantic; and you call me the fool. I think we're both in the same boat, Buddy."

            Marek shook his head sourly. "I give my lady affections and do not tease her," he pointed out.

            "So were on different boats, but in the same sea. My boat just happens to have a few holes and is sinking." He smiled up at Marek as the big man swung into the saddle, then turned the mare back along the broken trail. "You'll see."

            Morgaine had never given up totally on Megan. True they seemed to be missing each other in passing of late, but when word of Megan's mishap filtered down into the Red Dragon Inn, she quickly packed a few things and headed over to the hideout. Soon she was at the secret entrance, knocking quietly at the cobbled door, the portal once again flush with the wall, the smell of new hinge oil telling her that it had been recently repaired. When no one replied, she opened the door and slipped inside, the black wolf Alanna at her heals. The first encounter was with Brimstone's "guard dogs". Two well developed drakes slid down the passageway letting up such a racket as they snapped and snarled at her.

They did hold their ground a bit longer than normal, but Morgaine's soul-piercing gaze, matched with the sentient wolf's was more than enough to unsettled the duo and send them skittering back up the hallway, bouncing off the walls and finally under Megan's bed, jostling her fully away. "Teeth and Toenails!" she hissed, the movement causing her great pain once again.

Morgaine had heard that outcry and had to smile. If that hard headed mutant was well enough to holler that loudly, she couldn't be as bad off as the rumor mill suggested.

As she made her way along the myriad of tunnels, another figure slipped in through the

door. Jewel had only recently taken up with this group of "mutants," but found them to her liking. Granted they weren't cultured or sophisticated, but she found them honest, at least Megan and Nine. She know knew that even though the women could easily be confused as sisters, that they were from different worlds and different times. She wasn't quite sure how they had managed to end up here, but they never refused her hospitality, especially food, and that she was truly thankful. This was her first time venturing alone to the hideout and was surprised to see yet another stranger entering into the Del Marian domain. Surprisingly there was no metal man, no dragon mages, nor any other "mutants" anywhere in the living room. She was just inside the hallway, following at a discrete distance when she heard Megan shout. "Whose out there?"

            Megan had reached her hand out, gesturing for Destroyer to come to her side. The blade quickly obeyed, already pulsating with that reddish energy that normally sent Megan's temper through the roof, but since the accident, the weapon had tempered itself, as if afraid to cause Megan any more harm. Only when she heard Jewel squeak out an answer did she relax, allowing Destroyer to retreat once again behind the headboard.

            It was then that Morgaine decided to poke her head into the entrance to the med lab. "I suppose I should say I'm here too." The sight seemed to melt some of the stress and pain off Megan's hide. She managed to pull herself into a sitting position, gesturing for Morgaine to approach. "Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"

            The injured mutant nodded, looking at Zelgadis as he slumbered in the next bed. The golem mage kept slipping into deep rev sleep, a state that was almost impossible to get him to rise from, but it seemed to help him heal faster, giving his body the rest it craved, so she let him snore. "I guess you can't," the mutant finally confessed. "You've missed some epic battles of late."

            "So have you."

            As Megan nodded, Jewel finally reached the hospital wing, having followed the soft voices. As she peeked her head inside, Megan smiled and gestured for her to come closer. "Looks like we have the makings for a party!" The mutant pulled her pillow up against the head board then gingerly leaned up against it, showing that perhaps she was not physically up to having a party. Megan ignored their stares and worried glances. "I expect that I need to do the intros. Jewel, this is Morg, my Soothsayer. Morg, this is Jewel, my... uhm.. well Jewel hasn't quite got any official title yet, other than being able to match me bite for bit in a pie-eating contest; and being a handful with a baseball bat, but she's good folk otherwise."

            Jewel's smile was thin, but personable enough to know that Megan was poking fun. "I guess that makes me the official moocher and batter."

            " 'Official Moocher', " Megan mused. "I like that."

            Jewel's smile stretched a bit further as she brushed back one of the long black braids. "You can't get rid of me once you've fed me." She paused, briefly looking around the room, then glanced down the hallway. "Uhm, Randall's not in, is he?"

            "No. Surprisingly nobody's here. BS's slipped off. He sold the bar to my dead ex husband Jason, then went hunting after Mel. Jason's probably getting the riot act read to him by Goury and Randall after he pushed me into this state." She shook her head before they could press her about what Jason had done to her. "Let's just say that the boys are not very happy with Jason. For the record, neither am I. I've got enough problems. This damn wound won't mend." She now pulled back the shift to expose the gauze bandaging, already soaked red with fresh blood from her moving around. Jewel went pale and had to look away quickly while Morgaine hissed. The sorceress knew that Megan's mutant body didn't work well with magic. "Dusk and I sort of got into a squabble and she touched Destroyer. Went nuts and drove him right through me." Megan now nodded her head towards the black sword that seemed to be peering up over the headboard, trying to see the extend of the damages it had inflicted. If it were possible, the weapon seem ashamed of its part in the deed to harm its mistress.

            Already Morgaine was rolling up her sleeves. "Looks like it's time to change those bandages anyhow. Lie back."

            Megan didn't complain. She was the one that had trained the sorceress in field dressing wounds to begin with and trusted her to the task. It was a mess. Stitches had come undone and allowed the skin to roll back, breaking the seal. Skin that had been touched by the blade had curled back as well, looking purple with infection. At least the wound was high, missing the baby the mutant carried. That made Morgaine wonder even further. Megan was well five months along, but barely showed any sign that she was carrying precious cargo. Was something wrong there as well?

As Morgaine cleaned what she could, Jewel looked away, taking the time to poke at the strange medical objects lining the room. Many changed colors or beeped at her as she touched them. One almost zapped her with a bolt of electricity. In the end, she found herself facing a corner, rather than risk breaking anything expensive in the room, which looked pretty much like everything. Megan had watched the young girl migrate through the room. "Hey Jewel, how about snagging us something to munch on. Jason bought a banana cream pie. I suggest you go filch it from the fridge and bring it back here for a snack. Three spoons should do us, I think."

It was the perfect excuse to leave the gruesome scene. Jewel bolted down the hall, remembering where the kitchen was, but she hadn't counted on the drakes being in the room either, taking turns raiding the garbage can. Jewel tiptoed around the reptilian duo and reached the fridge, quickly rummaging inside to locate the pie; then fished out some silverware from the adjacent drawer. The metal spoons clinking drew the dragons' attention to her and they began to sniff her, the spoons, the counter, and the pie; all in a very inquisitive manner. It was also still very intimidating as these beasts were eight feet to the shoulder, and the long serpentine neck seemed again as long. Everything seemed long on the beasts, as if they hadn't filled out yet, betraying their youthful status. Even now they followed her as she tried to hold the pie high above her head and out of their reach. They didn't try to take it from her, or bump into her. Instead they just followed, stopping when she turned. She had gone down the wrong corridor and now had to find a way past the two drakes. She ended up giving them a cold stare. "What!?" she finally shouted, exasperated.

The larger drake looked from the pie, to her, then sat down and lifted up a paw, begging. the brick red one followed suit, wagging his tail hopefully.

Jewel sighed in relief, realizing that these were nothing more than pets. Big pets, but they were just in need of some love and attention. "Very well," she relented. She managed to dig a spoonful out of the pie and flicked it at the black dragon, whom caught the custard quite adeptly. The red one was too ancy and missed his catch, but seemed quite content to lick the food off the floor where it had landed. This only sidetracked them for a moment as she tried to edge past them, holding the pie aloft once again, then turned into the hallway with the monsters in tow.

Jason returned from his shopping run and was immediately suspicious when he saw the hideout door ajar and he tiptoed in, setting his groceries on the counter. He heard Megan's voice down the corridor and heard the bulky reptiles scuffling along the hallway. Figuring things to be status quo, he opened the fridge to put the milk away and saw that his precious pie was missing. "So help me, " he snarled as he turned towards the med lab," if she ate the whole thing..."

It was then that he collided into Jewel. The pie slipped from her grasp and tumbled to the floor. The dragons pounced, knocking Jewel aside and trampling Jason as the tore into the lemon custard, sending meringue everywhere. Jason tried punching the larger black dragon in the haunch to make him get off his leg, but it had no effect as the drakes were now in a sugar-high feeding frenzy. He screamed as the smaller red dragon stepped back, on onto his already broken arm, ripping a deep gouge from elbow to wrist.

Megan nodded her head towards the chimera's bed. "He's got amnesia.. remembers me only in bits and starts... nothing clear. I think Tim rampaged through his brain and scrambled them. I have know I dea why he would do such a thing now. Zel's been tailing him for months. Maybe he found out something really bad..."

Morgaine shuddered at the thought of the Rex on a rampage. It wasn't the powers that bothered her. Renea probably had just as much in her frame if not more so than Tim. It was the way the Rex used those powers that set her teeth on edge.

Their little chat was broken by a howl down the hallway. Morgaine peeked down the corridor but couldn't see anything in the dim lit den. "Think she got lost?" the Soothsayer asked.

The mutant knew who's scream that was. "You might wanna go check that out. I'd go.. but.. well.. you know."

She didn't have to explain. Morgaine nodded, then looked to the wolf. Alanna needed no command. Instead she took her friend's place by Megan's side, letting the injured girl stroke her greying fur as the spell caster made her way towards the disturbance.

Morgaine got there just in time. Jewel was all wide eyed and frightened, but she had somehow managed not to end up underfoot of the monstrous lizards. "Who are you?" she cried out, thinking the man to be a burglar of some kind.

"Who am I?" he sputtered, managing to shove the red's leg off his arm and stumbling to his feet. "Who the Hell are You?" He paused a moment, recognizing the dark haired woman. "You're that Freeloader! What were you doing with My pie? Hell, what the heck are you doing Here at all?!"

"We were checking on a friend," Morgaine interrupted.

"Yeah!" Jewel echoed, thankful for the chance to regain her composure. "And Megan Asked me to get her that pie!" She had thought to help the man up from under the dragons, but thought better of it, seeing how rude he was.

And he got ruder. "Well this is My bar! And that was My pie! She had no right to tell you to take that! She's damn lucky I don't kick her out on her useless hind end as it is."

That brought Morgaine's dander up. "Oh our hearts just Bleed for you," she snarled as she crossed her arms, that brow cocked high and defiant. "Please. do kick her out. It'll give me good cause to get back into the ass- kicking business."

"You wouldn't dare!" he spat back. If I go, they lose the whole nine yards. the banks will get it all and she won't even have a pot to piss in."

"Jason, shut up already." This from Megan as she stood in the hallway. Well, more like leaning against the wall for support. Destroyer once again hung off her backside, mainly for support as she barely had the strength to stand. The long smear of thinned blood down the hall showed her arduous path down the hallway, and that she'd probably re-opened the wound.

The ex-husband's jaw hung a bit, then finally snapped back into place. "Why should I?" he replied sharply. "It's the truth."

"Because Morgaine is my Soothsayer."

NOW Jason took the time to look the sorceress over very carefully, even as the woman walked back to Megan to give her something more comfortable to lean on. Alanna looked up, having escorted Megan down the hall, either unwilling or unable to stop her. Jason looked the scene over again, then just tossed up his hands and turned on his heel and headed back into the kitchen, emphatically slamming the door shut.

Morgaine had to shake her head. "Say 'this is Morg, my friend,' and nobody bats and eye. Just mention the word 'Soothsayer' and they run like the wind."

"Oh he always was a bully," Megan murmured, sliding into her friend's arms, the last of her strength giving out. "Told you that title would come in handy."

They carried her back to her bed, giving Morgaine time to ponder this 'title' of hers. Though she had transposed all of her magicks over to her sister Chris, she still would try to move heaven and earth for her friend. Perhaps hiding behind such a powerful nametag wouldn't be so bad, especially if it held back people like Jason. "Too bad you never got around to killing that slime. He's a bastard."

Funny, but that just seemed to make Megan smile a bit. "Yeah, he can be.. I think he gets a little money mad. For now, I suggest just ignoring him. You can't have him 'bumped off' anyhow cause the bank would come take this place away from us. Poor BS wouldn't have anywhere to hang his hat."

Morgaine got the distinct impression that this little power play over this dive-of-a-hideout bar had a lot more to do than just monetary wealth. "You should come back and stay with us, Megan. This whole sewer thing can't be healthy for the baby or you. I should warn you though, that it may not be much safer. Seems we have some gargoyle troubles."

            "Gargoyle?" Jewel asked. "I'm so out of touch."

            "It's a long story," Morgaine confessed. "Seems all their females were locked away, and when one got out, curiosity kind of rippled through the rest of them.. Seems they don't know their own strength."

Megan snorted. Knowing the parentage of the child she carried, it could very well come out as some sort of gargoyle, but she had to shake her head at the offer. "I can't leave Zel," she insisted. "and even if I could, with your current situation, it probably wouldn't look good to have a stony blue skinned critter around, yes?" She coughed a bit, catching some flem coated with congealed blood, which she wrapped in a tissue and added to the growing collection in the trash bin.

"Chrissy could find a way to get him to the Inn. You all would be better off there than in this dump."

Again Megan reluctantly shook her head. "You wouldn't want us all there. Zel and Brimstone ain't quite normal looking to begin with, plus all that trouble that invariable follows us? You up for it? You think Renea's up for it? Then what if I need medical help trying to deliver this tyke? Jason's not gonna loan us all this expensive med gear when the time comes. Heck BS is the only one that can operate all that gear, and he may never come back from his walkabout."

Finally Morgaine had to relent, remembering how much trouble they did cause, albeit by accident, the last time they stayed at the in. "But at least I now know where to find you. Do you realize how difficult it was to track you down?"

"I tried not to hang out around here, but when Zel showed up, I couldn't leave him here along with these... savages." She again gave another strange smile. "Guess we're not hitting the bars any time soon. Unless you wanna just wheel this gurney out the door there. I don't think Jason will try to stop you now."

"That would be a moot point, dear. I gave up drinking.”

Megan’s jaw dropped. “Now what fun is that? Quitting the drinking. How outrageous! Yeesh1 Next thing you’ll say is that you gave up sex too!”

Now it was Morgaine’s turn to laugh, shaking her head. “Not anytime soon, if I have any say about it!”

The mutant had gotten her jab in though, but a thought had been jarred loose. “Okay.. Lemme make sure I got the score card right. You and Renea, right? Still?”

“Again actually.” He held her hand aloft, showing off the weighty silver wedding band with the cracked moonstone in the center.

 “And still both human, right?” The Soothsayer nodded and Megan wiped her brow. “Whew, nice to know I’m not That far behind.”

Jewel again had to interrupt. “You mean.. You could be something other than.. Human?”

“Well, Morg had an identity crisis there for a while..”

Morgaine smirked at her mutated friend. “I was born part elvin and part demon. After I met my wife, I got turned into a vampire, then a goddess granted me humanity. My wife got turned into a vampire.. Turned me back into a vampire, then I got turned back into a human.”

“Oh, I didn’t know such things were possible.”

Megan adjusted herself in the bed again so that she was sitting up, clearly not ready to drift back off to sleep, despite the loss of blood. In fact if felt as if her system had finally decided to fight back for a while. “Jewel, don’t sweat it. Weird things like this happen all the time around here. By the way, you Are human too, right?”

The dark haired “mooch” hesitated, a sign that piqued both mutant and soothsayer. As Morgaine sat at the foot of the bed next to Alanna, Megan pressed for information. “Well, cough it up. I mean we're All airing out dirty laundry here. Save us the hassle of discovering your great secret in the middle of a battle or something.”

“Well of course I’m human,” she insisted. “My mind.. It just plays tricks on me. I get confused about what’s real.”

Megan didn't have time to press the issue. Jason had returned, his smile showing that he at least had thought of a great plan, or at least a way to baffle the mutant by using polite kindness. "Okay girls!" he beamed. "Lunchtime!" He sat an oversized silver platter filled with finger sandwiches and cookies, with a soup tureen taking center stage. He held his pleasant smile, even as the trio of girls glared at him. "Oh come now," he chided. "You all just took me by surprise, that's all. I thought that somebody had broken in and was robbing the place. Look, I even brought the wolf a nice juicy bone." With a flourish, he pulled out a meaty hock from whatever last night's dinner was and held it out to the lupine, keeping a careful distance when the beast just glared at him.

Morgaine just gave him that deadpan stare. “Alanna only eats bones after she’s picked the meat clean off.” Jason jumped a bit when the wolf echoed her sentiments with a quick snap of the jaws, but Jewel’s hungry look gave him a new venue. He held out a sandwich. “You surely must be hungry, MILADY. You didn’t get any of that pie.” She hesitated, but then snatched the offering from his hand and glommed into it, completely famished.

Jason bowed, then backed out the door, giving all three girls and the wolf his most amiable face before leaving. Only when he was out of sight did Megan move painfully to grab a bowl of soup, assisted by Morgaine whom was still seething. Megan took several mouthfuls before pronouncing that it was not poisoned, a comment that made Jewel pause in mid bite, hesitating before swallowing. They talked freely now, first of Jason and the politically arraigned marriage Megan had made. In that recanting, Morgaine caught a glimpse of something in Megan’s tone, as if she still had feeling towards the toadish man, though she had no idea why. Then the discussion drifted to Rydin in general, and the assumption that the world draws in people from other plains of existence. When Morgaine mentioned “Earth” as a possible realm frequently represented in the Rydin population, Jewel perked up, the name jogging something loose in her memory, but nothing firm. Then the conversation disintegrated into a strange on- upmanship between Morgaine and Megan, each on trying to out do each other in deaths, their own.

“Have you ever been turned to dust, then put back together by a goddess?” Morgaine asked.

“Well I did vaporize a planet,” Megan retorted. “I’m pretty sure that would have turned me into dust. I’m not sure if a goddess brought me back, but something had to.”

“Gods?” Jewel asked, finding their discussion very enlightening, if not strange.

“Yeah, but trust me.. Stay clear of Gods. They are nothing but trouble.”

But Jewel’s memory had been jarred again. “I.. I think I’m supposed to be looking for a god.. Goddess actually. I think her name is... Deidre.. Yeah, that it. Maybe she’s the one that brought me here.”

Megan sighed. This was going to lead to trouble. She could feel it in her bones.

Vashtalian Wedding

            As with any wedding, the castle in Vashtalia had its dramatic and comic moments. Janis seemed to be the born sourpuss, at first trying hard to get lost in the expansive estate. The guards, unfortunately directed her to the ceremonial chambers. She was losing her fight with the satin dress she wore, clearly uncomfortable with the material. One could almost squint an eye and take her for those Del Marian mutants whom seemed to make a life out of such chaos. Only when Marek and Isilwen showed up, the latter bearing her faithful feathered avian companion Einar on her shoulder did Janis finally settle down, taking to running her comments past the bird, whom seemed to agree with her, even forsaking Isilwen's shoulder to be closer to the petite woman.

At the other end of the spectrum was Charon, whom was just beginning to show her maternal condition. It was unknown what caused the emotional outbreak, either the situation or hormones, but the poor girl seemed to blubber from the second she stepped into the castle til the very end of the ceremony.. Meli had to elbow her several times to quiet her enough so they could hear Aerich and Aliera exchange vows. The psi-tracker herself seemed disjointed, as if she wasn't paying attention to the wedding, but to something distant.

In fact Aerich and Aliera seemed to be the only sane ones in the household, which was why they probably made their nuptials as short as possible, to keep any dysfunctional family outbreaks down to a minimum. Janis was short tempered enough, finding it rude that she didn't know til almost the day of the ceremony that her son was getting married at all. In fact Claw has to steer the sullen woman away lest she became more rude, even though he had to bear the brunt of Einar's talons and beak.

Isilwen was much more amiable, presenting the pair with a rare red phoenix feather as a gift, and it was in this amiable mood that most of the guests dispersed, leaving the newlyweds to slip off to be alone.

            How Megan had managed the trip from the hideout not even she would know, but the erstwhile mutant found herself at the doorsteps of the Red Dragon Inn once more. The strange black blade that seemed to cling magically to her spine was her only support for standing.

            Her arrival was not unnoticed by any means. "Megan!" Morgaine shouted out, even as she ran over before the girl tipped over. "What in the gods' dames are you doing here?" Flanking the Soothsayer was a petite Latina woman who just shadowed the taller woman, though looking just as concerned.

            Megan chose not to confront this new stranger, not after the trip she had just trekked. She could barely muster a smile. "I needed a decent drink. I can't rest in that place anyhow. Jason's... redecorating. Besides, I wanted to see these gargoyles of yours." She leaned heavily into the doorframe of the shop, wrapping the tattered blue cape around herself. A least she wasn't wearing a hospital gown, but the simple tan shift she had purloined wasn't keeping her warm either.

            Now the little tan skinned woman pipped up. "Good luck! They're all gone."

            Morg just rolled her eyes then grabbed Megan by the elbow, supporting her while steering her inside the bar. "Megan, this is Jillian. Jillian.. Megan."

            The sickly mutant just nodded, always liking intros to be short and sweet. She managed to wave a few fingers. Jill mimicked the move, then moved along to check on the rest of the bar. There was quite a bit of business. Some stranger draped in heavy grey cloth hung at the bar, hoping for some service. Loki and Chris were deep in discussion. Megan never could get a clear bead on Renea's kinfolk, or even why she still dealt with Odin and his ilk, but Loki didn't seem AS much a snot as Odin, even as he escorted Chris out of the room. She would hear later how Odin has performed some sort of exorcism, and in that manner repair a few threads of his damaged relationship with his son.

            But she didn't have time to dwell on the moving action. Morgaine had literally dragged her over to the bar, pushing her down in the nearest seat and propping her up against the wall. "So you're here now," she smiled. "And now you're gonna rest cuz I'll be damned if I end up being responsible for something happening to that little baby you've got cooking in there."

            Megan winced. I wish you wouldn't go announcing my condition around here so loudly," she barely whispered back. She seemed to be growing paler by the minute. If Morgaine had still been in her vampiric state, she would have known that the mutant had once again ripped open her wound in the effort to get to the bar.

            Morgaine knew something was wrong, but she figured to at least make her friend sit still and Not go gallivanting around was probably the best medicine. "Yeah, well.. along with pulling your ass out fo the fire I thing I get the rights to making you squirm once in awhile. Did you want something to drink.. eat?"

            "Drink... drink would be good.. something warm.. maybe some brandy?" She paused, seeing the strange face Morgaine gave her. "It's not gonna hurt the baby, if that's what you're thinking."

            That was not what she was thinking. She couldn't place her finger on it, but something seemed out of place in her mutated friend. Course Everything about these mutant was out of place, but now it didn't follow the normal courses that mutants seemed to follow. As it was, to the normal observer, she didn't look pregnant at all, and definitely not five months along. The grey coated gentleman seated next to her tried not to listen in on the growing conversation, but he couldn't help but stare. He sighed, then pulled back the hood of his cape, revealing the tousled brown hair and steely grey eyes. "I could really used a drink," he asked, figuring Morgaine to be the tender. "anything strong.. no.. the strongest.."

            Chris had made her way down the bar, having pried herself from Loki's loving embrace to get some work done. He was going for some dwarfish scotch when Megan interrupted, the girl having looked the tall grey robed stranger over in that studious judgmental way. "You got any of my stuff over there? That'll fill the bill."

            The Amazonish woman shook her head, not quite sure What was the strange girl's special drink. Megan gave her a tired smile. A long time tired smile at that. "Look under the sink, in the cleaning supplies" A she pulled up the tray, still not seeing anything labeled as a drinkable bottle, Morgan pushed her way around, pulling out the bottle of Clorox and the small chemist's bottle of Nightshade. Megan smiled them turned to see what the stranger thought of the ingredients. He seemed game enough. "May want to dilute that with pineapple juice, I think. Don't want to kill him right off." She then looked at the mug Morgaine had set un front of her in passing. Hot chocolate. Her smile sank a bit but she still guzzled it down, despite the fact it was searingly hot. It should have sent blisters running from lips to stomach, but it didn't, at least not for long.

            The patsy also didn't seem that phased by the toxic nature of Megan's special. He did grimace and shake at the horrible taste, but he didn't keel over. He coughed a bit, then cleared his throat. "Damn. That should stave off any infection, and whiten my teeth." He sat the now empty cup down and looked the Megan girl over, noticing that she seemed to be in some distress as she was still propped up against the wall. "Miss? Are you doing all right this evening?"

            "As well as can be expected."

His injury hadn't passed her eye either, the one hand tucked in tight, the heavy smell of stale blood. Morgaine leaned in close to her ear. "Is he one of your relatives?" she asked, also impressed with his ability to drink that nasty stuff.

"Not one that I know of," she murmured back. "He doesn't have that vibe." She now spoke up. "Chris, bring up the med kit please. I think our new friend has some wounds to tend."

The stranger nodded, then laid the arm out on the table, slowly unwrapping the rolls of cloth wrapped around the wound. "I sort of had a run in with the tendress at the last place.." he started just as he exposed the wound. It wasn't as much a wound as an amputation. The hand and wrist were only attached by a piece of skin. "Don't worry about me," he started to babble, watching the three sets of eyes open wide at the injury. "Maybe I can manage this myself.."

Too late. Megan already had a grip on the man's arm, the attached part, holding him down with a grasp that was way beyond normal. "Nonsense." she barked, staring in closed at the damage, her nose almost into the injury. "Morg's the best in the first aide business. I should know. She's My medic, and I ain't no slouch in the pain business. Now, let's get a good look at this.." She wasn't very squeamish at all, despite the man's warnings. In fact she lifted up the detached pieces and trying to see how to fit the hand back into place. "We'll have to cut some of this dried stuff out.. You really should have packed this thing on ice. It would have slowed the deterioration. MORG!" Megan turned, wondering what was taking her Soothsayer so long, only to see her beginning her tendings on a very battered Loki whom had staggered in, one of his knees laid to the side of it's normal position and the raven haired spell caster trying to slide it back into place while the man howled at the moon in agony. She sighed and returned to her examination, her "patient" almost holding his breath, afraid that she would jerk his hand away. She thought it strange, but the hand was nearly as desiccated as a limb detached should be. He picked up a butter knife from one of the place settings and began to scrape along the raw stump, seeing that there was indeed quite a bit of viable tissue still salvageable. "Just scream if this hurts. I gotta find the nerve endings."

The man was already contorting, but he kept his reply calm enough. "Uhm.. sure.. I'll do my best."

Morgaine had passed the tendings of Loki onto her sister Chris before turning and seeing Megan "operating". She almost ran across the room to yank the butter knife out of her hand. "Don't use that!" she snapped.

"It's clean," Megan whined as she leaned back. Her victim had been sucking in air through his teeth but hadn't even twitched. "that's a good sign," she nodded. "You still got some feeling."

"Yes, I feel Quite a Bit!"

"Oh quit whining Mr I-drink-cleaning-fluids."

"Oh stop it!" Morgaine barked, taking the man's defense. "That's just gross. Can't you see the poor man's about to faint?"

But Megan was back at the damaged limb, once agin rotating the severed hand. "Should do the muscles first.. line up the veins and arteries. I'd like to flush the area first to make sure nothing collapsed inside the fingers...."

The tall fellow was still braced, even taking another swig of the cleaning fluid fruit cocktail to take the edge off of the pain, but he was thankful that they were tending to his needs, even though the process was taking much longer than he thought. "Why can't I have healing powers? I just get all the injures."

"You have something going for you," Megan answered as Morgaine pulled her back out of the way so she could begin the tedious chore of sewing the hand back on. "A severed hand like this wouldn't normally go back onto the limb. How'd you keep it so fresh?"

"I sprayed it with Frebreeze," he smirked, then winced as a strange sensation occurred on both hand and limb. Chris had reluctantly looked at the damage, finding blood and guts and gore quite vile and upsetting, so she was applying her magics to the wound, finding it much more sanitary than any metal needle. It was in a compact enough space that Megan's aura didn't interfere as much, though a stray spark did knock the girl right off her chair. Having the black blade Destroyer strapped to her backside did little to cushion the impact. In fact it wiggled itself free, the levitated, waiting for Morgaine to pick his mistress up off the sawdust floor before reattaching himself to her backside. With his support, she was able to sit upright at the counter, letting Morgaine return to tending Loki and his knee, and leaving Chris to magically stitch up the detached hand. Unattended, Megan reached for the bottle. It wasn't her particular favorite, and brandy by no means was the strongest poison she could muster, but it warmed her insides quite nicely and drove back the aches and pains. This made her a bit more amiable when Chris was done with her tendings and has rushed back over to Loki's side. Abandoned somewhat, he turned to the strange girl with the stranger sword. "Can I get your name at least, my fellow invalid?"

"Megan Ray Dannon," she smiled, giving him a short salute. "Mutant non-extra ordinaire."

"A mutant? What sort of mutant, Miss Dannon?"

She winced. It had been a long time since she'd been a "Miss" or even addressed by her last name Dannon. "Well.. my mutantness is more like a heritage. Mom's kinetic. Dad's a psi.. I got bupkiss. All I can do is heal quickly and anything magical goes haywire around me. But from where I'm from, that's pretty basic stuff. I'm more like a step backwards in mutant evolution. Oh, and it's Megan.. Just Megan. I don't go by my titles anymore."

"Well I'm Traverse, Unlucky blood drinking wanderer!" and he held out the newly rehealed hand.

She shook it. She had a very strong grasp but it was still weak by her normal standards. "A vamp. I should have guessed. You should be thankful there wasn't garlic in that drink."

            "I'll have you know I learned that garlic doesn't hurt me. I had to work as a pizza delivery person for a while." He shrugged his shoulders. "Only nighttime job I could find."

            "Pizza... that sounds damn good.." and indeed she was beginning to drool.

            "I'd be glad to make you one, if only I knew how. I never was involved in the production process. Can't cook unless it involves an appliance and a button."

            "You'll be hard pressed to find a conveyer oven here anyhow. This place is a bit backwater. I've got a good oven at home but I don't think Jason would want me to bring home another stray...." she paused in mid thought, her brain clearly churning over a idea.. a malicious idea, especially when she began to grin. "You know what? That may not be a bad idea after all. Care for a midnight snack?"

            "Actually I could. All these bars seem to have just liquor or apple juice. I have this bad habit of eating real foods that I still enjoy."

The handsome grin actually revealed the pointed canines. She could kick herself in the head for having missed the mark, but the gentleman did radiate heat, something she didn't think vampires normally did. Something for discussion later, she decided as she gathered up her ratty blue cape, zounds worse than the plus kelly green one he sported. The booze had helped, somehow giving her a bit more vigor than before, or at least taking the edge off the pain. "Good," she decided. "I can use the escort home anyhow,, but,, just a warning. My blood ain't very good for vamps. Just in case you get a hankerin' fer the red stuff."

He chuckled, since she was being so frank but not showing any of that guarded fear that most humans seemed to have about his kind. But then again this girl wasn't normal either, was she? "Thanks for the warning. I wasn't intending to bite someone so nice, but sometimes you can't help a craving, eh?"

"Just figured. Saves any hassle later on." She now took his offered hand and head towards the door with her new friend, pretty much letting him steer. She only paused at the door to turn and bellow up the stairs at her Soothsayer, since she had seen the sultry siren slip in the stairs. Megan had caught the word Odin floating up in conversation and figured Morgaine had gone upstairs to check on the lug. Frankly Megan didn't think fondly of the man, but since her Soothsayer seemed to like him, Megan made no fuss by doing what she did best, selective memory loss. She just plainly failed to notice if the one time bodyguard was in the vicinity. "I'M HEADING HOME!" she bellowed, her voice reverberating solidly off the walls.

Everyone else in the room cringed, including her vampiric escort whom hadn't expected such volume from such a small frame, and he was impressed with the scale at which Morgaine was able to reply. "BE GOOD, MEGAN!!! I MEAN IT!!!"

"YES, MAMA!" and out the door she headed with her escort.

Somewhere along the line they had gotten separated. Traverse had turned for a moment, but when he turned back, the pint sized woman had slipped away. Surely she wouldn't have gone down the oversized drain access to the sewers. Not in Her condition. Would she?

             The Del Marian mutants missed the matrimonial festivities. In fact they were pretty much missing, and Jason was taking full advantage of the drop in ranks. With nobody to oppose him, he had hired a team of redecorators to strip down the hideout and the bar, finally fixing all the structural damage and incorporating a style of furniture that all matched. Countertops were leveled, proper reinforcements were welded to keep the ceiling up and one man's job seemed to be to plaster the myriad of bullet holes throughout the complex. What Randall noted also was that there was a "For Sale" sign set up outside both the sewer and the mountain pass entrances. He found Jason looking over the blueprints with the
foreman, again speaking in that strange dialect that Nine's dimensionally distant kindred seemed to drop into when no one else was around. "How the renovations coming?" he asked.
           Jason only looked up momentarily. "Expensive. How the hell can you guys literally shave off the mountaintop? There's a ton of structural damage to the lower levels too."

"Well from what I've been told, the initial damage was from a spell gone wrong." As he spoke, the mountain again shook as if remembering that incident. A few glasses fell from the tables and a picture took a header. When the quake ended seconds later, Jason grumbled. "Figures. he built this place on a fault line too. Wonderful. That'll knock the resale value down."
           As they discussed things, some of the workmen had stopped when they saw what had happened outside. Not five hundred feet from the rebuilding had risen a bizarre sight. A silvery white castle had forced itself from the ground and now stood on the mountain. Well, not exactly on the mountain. Because of the steep slope, the building literally hung out at a thirty degree angle, threatening to slide down the slope on its foundation.
           Jason, ensconced inside, failed to notice the building right way. Not with the movements that caught his eye. Two movements. The first being the fat smokey grey tomcat that padded around the workmen, easily avoiding being trod upon. The young woman following the cat was definitely related to Megan's soothsayer, though she opted for more mundane clothing, from the low cut blue jeans to the pink baby t to the white Adits sneakers. She didn't act as confidant as her sister either, and she seemed frail and delicate. Definitely Not the type to hang out with someone rough and tough as this crew.
           Jason frowned a bit at the girl, then turned, seeing that the workman had also stopped when the tremor started. He clapped his hands at them. "Hurry up, folks. Deadlines! Deadlines!" Once he got them hustling again, he turned to face this dainty newcomer. "Can I help you?"
           She blinked a bit, looking at Randall, then back to Jason. "I'm Christine.. Morg's sister."
           Now the new owner of Brimstone's Bar and grill tilted his head slightly, the feathered brown hair wavering as he looked her over. He was handsome enough, not soft either as his wealth hadn't made him doughy or weak. No, far from it. Underneath that plain exterior was a thinker; conniving in tact. "Did she send you here to check on Megan? Cause she's fine. Just fine."
           If nothing, Christine has beauty working for her in the form of a drop dead gorgeous smile, accented with the family arching of the brow. "As a matter of fact, she did. Why so quick to supply an answer? Feeling guilty about something?"
           Jason looked down at his blueprints. "Woman, I've got plenty to fret about. It's almost a full time job wondering which direction the next punch is coming. You can visit her. The room's just down the hall there.” As he gestured, he happened to glance out the window and saw the gaudy sparkling white tower of the newly reformed castle.

So did Randall. "What the hell is that?" the scientist asked. For once, Jason had a less-than-snappy answer.

"Beats the hell outta me." He gestured for a few of the work crew to follow him as he headed up to the observation deck. He picked up a hefty board, but then dropped it, opting for the drill
before heading outside.

           As they headed out to do battle with whatever was outside, Christine scooped up her tomcat and headed down the long hallway to Megan's room. Megan was already working her way out of the bed. Sharp pains still rippled out high on her stomach, but the earthquake had bothered her more. When she looked up and spotted Christine, she had done two double takes before she realized that it was not her Soothsayer Morgaine coming to save the day. "You Must be kin," she coughed, leaning up against a wall as pain shot around her right side. "Can you ... lend me a shoulder? Trouble's brewing. I can feel it." With Christine's help, they made their way down the hall to the kitchen.

Randall had scurried up the staircase after Jason and his wrecking crew, but suddenly was pulled back into a side passageway even as the very air around the dwelling began to thicken with dark storm clouds. At first, the scientist thought it was Marek, just by the size and bulk of the robe, but as the hood peeled back, the body seemed to shrink, revealing the daintier form of Meli. Before he could give her away, she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him further into the shadows. "What is BS doing on my home planet?" she asked him in a hushed, harsh whisper.

"Well, he's looking for you."
           "WHY is he looking for me?" She was trying to keep her voice down.
           Randall rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, that all depends on whom you talk to. either he wants to apologize to you, or he want to get back at you for the spell you placed on the hideout."
           "I did not put a spell on anything. I merely used a root variant." she sighed, dropping her head for a moment. "I don't think he understands."
          "Whatever you did, Meli seemed to mess up Nine really bad. She cut herself on a piece of broken glass and couldn't stop bleeding. I think the magic just reacted really badly with her body. If it wasn't for Drac I think she really would have been in trouble. He's the one that figured out it was magical."
           Meli seemed to ponder that news a bit, then nodded, patting the doctor's shoulder and turning as if leaving. But Randall stopped her a moment. "Before you leave, please. Talk to Brimstone."
           She snorted a bit. "He needs to learn how to trust people," she told him and with a nod, she was gone.

           During this interval, Jason had picked up several papers from the records room before heading outside, figuring to reinforce his position with proper proof as well as muscle, but he hadn't counted on the strange creature that came out from the front gates. He sparkled silver throughout his body, though most of the shine came from his metallic looking feathered wings and plated arms. His hair was a whiter softer hue of blond, one that brought out the silver glints in his blue eyes. Whatever mystical parentage this creature had was juxtaposed with the wearing of a pair of khaki pants and an oversized Hawaiian t-shirt. Jason couldn’t fathom what was going on, but he wasn’t about to lose his homestead without a fight. “Hey!” he called out, waving the papers. “Hey! Don’t you know that you’re trespassing! I must insist that you cease any further encroachment!”

This strange winged metaled creature just stared down at the human as if the fellow were quite mad. “Uhm.. No. Actually I’m here to see my niecE. My kin own this place so I’m not really trespassing. Besides, it’s not like anyone ever comes along that path anyhow.”

This just seemed to make Jason More livid. “So you stick you house into the side of Mine? You’re gonna bring down what’s left and I won’t have Any collateral. Besides, this is My property, fairly bought!”

Again this man seemed almost bemused with Jason’s growing hissy fit. “Do you need me to just hit you hard or something? The rumor mill says that you haven’t been very nice to my family; and seeing as I am a very protective patriarch, I would just love the reason just to clout you one.”

“Family?” Jason foamed. “Your family? Megan is My wife!”

“Oh that’s good then. I’m your father in law.” Again he crossed his arms, trying to look stern, even with that touch of bemusement dancing in his eyes.

             "Jesus, Teeth, and Toenails! I do NOT believe this!" Megan exclaimed as she caught the odd view outside. "That smug bastard. This is gonna be rich." She slid into one of the country style padded chairs, the plastic covering not removed yet, but the petite mutant didn't care. She wanted a front row seat for this particular battle and the bay windows offered plenty of view. She looked at Christine momentarily, seeing confusion in the quiet girl’s face. “That silvery thing out there is my step father Estor.” She grimaced a bit, then leaned back in the chair. “Maybe Estor’ll clean his clock for me. That would be the first highlight of this season, I think.”

Jason now gawked at Estor as if he were some slimy alien, not this shining godlike mutated man. He drew himself to his full height, which was noticeable much shorter than Estor’s. “Sir, you must truly be insane. Why would You want to marry into this nutcase family? And especially, Why would you marry the Deh Mahr, the nuttiest one of the bunch?”

Apparently Estor didn’t approve of the accusation or the tone, because he brought one of the those metal plated arms up and just bopped Jason on the head, making the poor man crumble into a heap. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat as he dusted his hands. “Now that is settled..” he turned and headed up the pathway towards the upper entrance, looking at the radically changed layout of the hideout. Much sorter than when he previously visited.

Megan started laughing, unable to contain her mirth, seeing Jason finally receive his just desserts. But her merriment also ripped that cursed wound wide open and the blood began to splat in congealing wads on the floor. Now Chris arched her brow. “You’re still hurt?” she asked.

The wounded mutant nodded, trying to press her hand over the gap in her belly. “Go find Randall, that tall blond geeky looking human.. The stitches ripped again.”

As she slid to the floor, Estor finally poked his head in the doorway. It probably would have taken him hours to comb the hideout to find his niece, but there was something about the donated mutant blood that turned all Mutant kind into a symphony of wavelengths. A cacophony at times, but Megan was the only resident, and she was far from projective in her aura. “Hey there, puddin’” he crooned. “You don’t look so good.”

Megan managed to roll her eyes upwards, finding her strength fading fast, but not her disgruntled nature. “She ain’t here,” she growled, then winced as another wave of pain radiated out from the festering wound.

Randall was quickly on the scene, Chris dragging him along the convoluted hallways,”Oh shit!” he barked, before dropping to his knees, the med kit already opened at his side. Drac had followed along behind and watched with some concern, leaning against the wall, having learn to stay back lest he end up being tended to.

Estor cautious drew a hand to the girl’s brow, just trying to see if his newly acquired mutant abilities would be able to discern why Megan’s wound wouldn’t close, only to get a jolt that nearly threw him across the room. All he got was the image of Destroyer plunging through her body. He looked around for the weapon but he seemed to be suspiciously missing. He stepped back as Randall hefted the now limp body into his arms, then ran down the hallway to the infirmary, almost throwing her back into her bed as he grabbed all his stabilizing machinations, tubes, IV’s, and other tools that he normally used on Nine. The rest of the gang followed, Estor complaining as he lead the pack. “What caused this mess? Has she been getting into more spats while I’ve been gone? And when did she dump the stony guy for that skinny annoying fellow outside?”

The dragon mage and the doctor ignored Estor’s rantings, concerned more with Megan’s unstable condition. Randall lost her blood pressure several times, and found that what was once good tissue when he had initially stitched to wound closed was now rotted and fetid. If he didn’t know better, he would have said it was gangrene. Drac hovered on the other side of the bed. “This was caused by that weapon of hers?”

“Yes,” Randall nodded as he again scrapped away the green and black tissues, finding some healthy pink stuff underneath. “You don’t think this wound in magical, do you?”

“It would make sense. Destroyer is a magic blade, correct? That would explain why I sense mana.”

“And that would explain why I just got zarked. I couldn’t even check her over without it repulsing me... lemme see if I can find him.. He’s Destroyer... Des-Troy-er..” Ester whistled as if commanding a pet to return, then began looking under, around, and above various cabinets and beds in the room, searching for that black blade of doom.

Randall didn’t know for sure if the black sword was magical, but it would explain why her body was having such a violent reaction. “Can you lift the spell off her?” he asked Drac. The dragon mage had already used much of himself to revive her once. Perhaps it would work again, or at least long enough to allow her to recoup.

“I would suggest moving her to Vashtalia. There are more skilled healers than I available, and perhaps the magic there might hold this scourge in her at bay, until we find a cure at least. Stabilize her as best you can, Randall; then we shall take her to Serenity.”

“She needs to be purged.” This from Jason as he stumbled into the im-promptu ICU. “You need to cut out the magically infected areas without killing her.”

“Maybe we can override it.” Ester stood up after having looked under her bed for Destroyer and finding only cobwebs. He reached a hand out cautiously, as if sneaking up on the wound, then plunged one of his fingers into it. There was a strong smell of burning flesh and bubbling metal, but Ester drew his hand away, having been unable to draw out the poison or command any of the mutated nanotechs coursing in his blood to reach in and repair. “She ain’t compatible,” he frowned.

Jason snorted. “Figures, ornery to a fault. It might well be the death of her.” He may have sounded stoic, but it was very clear that he was very concerned for her welfare. “If you have to take her, then do so! Just don’t let her die like this.” And he turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen.

Finally Randall stabilized her condition and Drac carefully took the tiny frame into his arms. With a sigh and a fevered prayer, he teleported for home. Randall returned to his work in his study, leaving Ester alone. He carefully continued his hunt, then finally found the errant weapon literally cowering behind the gurney where Megan had been operated on. “A-Hah!” he cried out, darting a hand forward and grabbing the blade about the handle. Images flooded Estor’s brain. Perhaps if he were in his former body type, the experience could have driven him mad, but with his mind fragmented, able to multitask and process information on several frequencies, the flashing images told a confusing story. One the blade began repeating itself was he able to piece the plot together, most noticeably, the absolute rage Dusk was in when she plunged into Megan’s chest. Not just the sword, but herself, mind and soul, had sunk into the killing stroke. “Whoa,” he commented to himself,, now that’s not good..” he winced at the volume of dark power involved and wondered how Megan had lived. Then a thought crossed his mind. “Wait.. I thought there were supposed to be two of youse guys. Where’s your brother?” Again he was bombarded with a myriad of images, along with a litany of names, some that Ester well remembered, like his wife’s, and that onery paladin’s, Retyir.

But there was some confusion.

“Waitaminute,” he insisted, “Nine people cannot have just one sword at the same time.” 

            The undaunted cyborg was still camped out on Janis's front doorstep. He hadn't budged from the spot in two weeks, even though Dusk came and went as she pleased, assumably bringing him supplies. He remained at his vigil, though he seemed oblivious to the comings and goings of everyone in that household. Once again he was cooking something over the small fire. Apparently he was out of rat and was down to roasting a stick. Yes, a stick, one which he peeled the bark from and ate little by little as the bark toasted, on to return it to the flames to "cook" it some more.

            Janis peeked from the window, watching the 'borg a minute before shaking her head and allowing the thick tapestry to drop back into place. She then returned to he winged back chair next to the fireplace. "How long are you going to let him sit out there like that?" she asked Meli.

            " 'Til he figures out it's too cold outside," Meli grumbled back. She picked up her knitting needles and began a row of pearls to finish up the blanket she'd been working on.

            Her aunt continued to sip at her tea as she flipped through the pages of the book sitting in her lap when she paused, tilting her head slightly before giving a sly smile. "That slime ball is back," she announced.

            The very air across from the 'borg's fire began to flicker, then bend, as if bending light. A mass of flesh squeezed through this tear, then seemed to sploot through the crevasse and onto the ground, as if the portal had vomited him up. The creature stood up slow, dusting the matting snow as it clung to the heavy leathers and his blond locks. "Damn, that stung," the strange swore, but yet he was not that strange. When he turned to create the cyborg, he caught the man's fist square in his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. Before he could explain himself, Timothy Draconus Rex found himself under the muzzle of a very large, heavy caliber weapon. "WHOA! WHOA! WHOA!"

He held up his hands in submission, even as Brimstone cocked the hammer back, hate seething from his very soul. "Tristan," the big man scowled before squeezing the trigger.

How Timothy dodged that bullet was a slick combination of luck and talent. Borrowed talent, that was. In the newly acquired body, Timothy had kinetic power to spare, so he was able to deflect the bullet's trajectory, even at such a short range. He rolled away from the robotic man, even as BS tried to hone in on the psi. "I'm Not Tristan!" Timothy insisted, his hands still up in surrender, even as he scurried, crab-like, trying to evade the literal "smoking gun". Another shot rang out, barely deflected by the Rex's defenses. "I didn't have time to dye the hair!" he whined back. Apparently Brimstone didn't believe him and continually tried to wing the elusive man. Two more shots missed their target. Suddenly Timothy lunged, taking advantage of the borg's slower movements and twisted the magnum out of the man's grasp, throwing it clear, the gun bouncing off of Janis's front door. "Jesus, Teeth and Toenails! I go on a short little sabbatical and you all just fall to pieces!"

It was this scene that Janis saw when she opened the door, having heard the scuffle, the gunshots, and the thud of metal on wood. She opened the door, looked down and picked up the gun before looking up at the duo. "I have had enough of you!"

Both men turned, though they still had handfuls of each other's shirts in their grips, but suddenly preservation of life kicked in when then scene registered. Woman. With a gun. Now they tried to dive behind each other, using the other sap as a body shield. Janis just rolled her eyes then looked down at the weapon. With the ease of a body builder, she disassembled the gun by twisting it in her grip before stepping back inside the house.

Both psi's peeked out from over a large boulder, watching as she gently closed the door before turning to look each other over. "So.. uhm," Tim stammered. "Did I miss something?"

BS stared at the smaller man, finding it very difficult to believe this was the same creature. He had fought Tristan and Timothy both and knew their movements. Even if Tim had managed to find another body, and one that was in as prime a shape as this one, something really rotten had happened to obtain it. But since Timothy, or whoever this man was, was not in a sqabbling mood, Brimstone just slowly stood up and headed back to his vigil. He paused a minute, waiting for Tim to catch back up; all the while figuring how to test him. Perhaps with current events. "Sort of, I guess. I sold the bar."

"Well that would explain why Jason is in his glory then."

Now the metal man's brow rose. "You've been back to the bar?"

Well, not so's anyone would notice, of course. Figured to find you first and test the waters." He had go give a smile now. "Didn't think you’d be out here chasing tail."

Afterwards Brimstone would swear that Timothy had jiggled past his defenses because he exploded, wheeling around to yell at the psi, whom had already taken two steps back, sensing the onslaught of vile words coming. "I'm Not 'chasing tail'. I'm Trying to stop a war!"

Timothy looked his kindred over, then looked to the house, then back to the 'borg. "Seems pretty quiet for a war."

"That's because I'm in control, so far."

Again the psi looked to the house, then back to Brimstone. "Then why are you out here?"

BS rolled his good eye, wondering if the Rex's brains hadn't gotten scrambled. He sat back down on his sodden stump and tried to stoke the sputtering meager fire while the blond brain guy took up a likewise waterlogged log on the other side. BS then sighed. "Meli set a booby trap in the bar. A magical one. It almost killed Nine."

Tim mused on that line for about two minutes, even as BS set about roasting his stick again. The psi ventured another look at the house, then back to the 'borg. "You are an idiot. What makes you think that anyone even cares about stuff like that anymore. We're not on Del Mar anymore, you know."

The big metal man continued to poke his stick in the fire for another long extended pause, then dropped his reason for all this drive. "I was thinking of the Deh Mahr."

Bring up any reference to the psi's nemesis was not to be taken lightly, since affections flowed and ebbed between them. He chewed on that particular line for another two minutes then sighed and clapped his hand on the 'borg's exposed metal shoulder. "You are barking up the wrong tree, my friend. Killing your girlfriend is not the answer."

"I wasn't thinking of killing her," BS replied, a bit of a sly smile on his half metallic face.

Tim turned again, looking his compatriot over, then squinting a bit.

BS tried to fight it. If it had been the previous Tim in the weakened body and frail state, he could have slipped from the mental grasp. No way now. Tim had his answer... and started laughing. "You are more the idiot than I thought! That woman will be your downfall. Mark my words!" He gestured, just as BS lunged out to punch in his face. This time nothing but cold, sharp air met Brimstone's fist.

Brimstone stared as the portal snapped shut. All he could wonder was where the Hell had Tim learned magic. That little exitway was magical. No doubt about it. What few hairs still on his arm were standing erect. And how the Hell did he managed to make any magic work at all? The Rex was just as magically inhibited as the rest of the mutant world. All the big man could do now was snuff out the end of the stick, stand up and head towards Janis's door. He paused, made a gesture to knock on the door, paused again, then set his jaw and knocked ever so lightly.

He hadn't expected Janis to respond by just opening the door, as she had caught him with his hand still aloft. "Uhm... can I come in? I need to talk to you about some things."

She eye him cautiously but then opened the door all the way gesturing for him to hurry inside so she could keep the winter cold out. He quickly removed the tan Stetson but couldn't stop the water from dribbling off the coat in little rivets. He removed the leather jerkin, the thick material beginning to rot for the long exposure to the harsh elements, and folded it neatly before placing it next to the door. He also made damn sure that he didn't track in any mud or slush into her nice home.

"What can I help you with?" Janis asked as she closed the door behind him.

He hadn't expected her to be as receptive so he figured to press his luck. "Well, I would talk to Meli, but I suppose that's out of the question. I'll have to ask you instead." Now he began to twist his hat as if he could wring the right words out of it. "I.. I just wanna ask your opinion. I know Meli's a bit.. different.. than most.. but.. well..."

"Well?" she echoed back, a bit irritated with his awkward manner.

"Do you think .. that she would ever think about.. oh.. I dunno how to say this... That she would settle down? Start a family? Anything like that?" He had already taken a step back, anticipating a violent reaction, already holding his hands up in defense. "Not necessarily with anyone like me.. but.. in general I mean."

She just shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't know."

The big man sighed, his brow sweating as if stepping through a mine field. "Would you... meaning your family.. be terribly adverse to her... marrying? Not necessarily me, of course.. but just getting married in general?"

What Was that metal man thinking? "She is free to do as she wills and is willed."

            "Okay.. okay..." his hands finally lowered some and his grip on the leather hat wasn't nearly as tight. "So you all don't have anything firm in mind.. that's good. very good. Shows you all are open minded at least." He seemed to be trying to talk himself into his next move. "Would you all be... upset.. if... if I .. well... pursued that particular possible avenue? I mean if she don't want me I'll go... it'll be okay.. I was just.. well.."

            Now she had to step in. "And why would it matter My feelings on this business?"

            He had to take two breaths to regather his words. "Well.. there’s the big one. If.. and it's a way big 'if'. If I somehow sort of managed to marry her, that would make you kin ... to us.. to us mutants. Some people don't like us much. Would you mind?"

            Now she drew herself up, as if to admonish him like a small child. "The Creator teaches me all people are created equally. Each one should be treated with the same amount of kindness and compassion as the next. There is no line of hatred. No line of war." She paused, wondering if he would "get" any of this. "What is, will be. There is no changing the plans of the fates."

            BS seemed to sigh, the first signs of relief on his brow, then reached deep into a pocket and drew out a ring. It was of simple design; gold with a single stone; not a diamond or ruby. Strangely not of any known type of gem. "Wish it was that easy on my end. I'm glad to hear how things are on you side of the fence, Janis."

            The woman's eyes just about bugged and she made a shooing suggestion with her hands. "Put that thing away," she whispered hoarsely.

            He did so. "Now if I can just convince Meli of the same thing." He finally lifted his jaw, a bit more resolved in himself. "I guess it's back to my post until she comes around. Can I have my gun back?"

            "No you cannot have your gun back. Besides, you people should be more careful about the conclusions you come to."

            Now he had to smile, even as he reached down for the weather worn slicker. "It wasn't so much Your family I was worried about. It's mine. You know how we are." He redonned the trenchcoat and slide the Stetson back onto its perch before giving the woman one more salute and slipping back out into the blustery weather.

            Meli looked over Janis's shoulder at the retreating figure. "Oh," was all she managed to say.

It would be After War 57 on the 25^th day of the month of Veralin in accordance with the Vashtalian calendar when Megan was taken to the castle for treatment of her injury. Two weeks have passed since then and Serenity Draghkar and the other priestesses have succeeded in removing the enchantment from Meg’s wound, leaving recovery to the girl’s natural healing powers. Then the pattern of relapse and recovery began. The mutant would be on the mend, then the wound would reopen without warning, the aura around the puncture actually changing with every incident. It must have drove the poor girl to distraction, this up and down rollercoaster of a situation, leaving her with barely any strength to complain, much less attempt to escape from confinement. Megan’s kin did not like to be caged, so Drac knew something was seriously wrong.

For the most part the entire Draghkar clan was present in the castle’s audience chamber, or throne room as was it’s common name, save for young Valtier and Onyx Draghkar. Lord Dracon was pacing the floor rather nervously, or impatiently depending on how one looked at it, before looking over to Randall as the latter made his way in. “Hello Randall, how are you this eve?” was all that was said before Dracon resumed his pacing.

“I’m all right, something bugging you Drac?” The scientist had replied upon taking a seat for himself on one of the sofa’s Dracon normally kept in the throne room.

This had caused Dracon to stop and regard Randall for a little while. “Well, for starters, Ishatara has not yet returned from her year long journey, she was actually supposed to have returned about a month ago.

“Who’s Ishatara?” with a curious look given to Dracon before he nodded his greetings to the other four in the room, a nod which was returned just the same before all returned their attention to Dracon.

 A good question as Randall had never met the lady, a question that was simply answered with “My Mate..”

At around this time Janis Rift had wandered into the room. Dracon had turned towards her with a curious look of his own as he couldn’t figure why she would be there . Normally if she was somewhere she was looking for one of her family. “If your looking for Claw I’m afraid he’s not here Janis. He should be at home by now though.”

“Don’t care..” Was all the answer Dracon had gotten.

Randall asked after a though pressed through his mind “Have you tried getting in contact with any of her relatives, or was there someone specific she went to go visit?”

“To answer your first question Randall, she has no living relatives that I know of. To answer the second, she didn’t say anything. Draco, I want you to send the scout division to Tor’el first thing in the morning. I want that realm searched every inch before moving on to the other realms.”

“Very well Father, I suppose I should be getting to bed if I’m going to wake up so early.” With that said Draco had stood up, bowed to all present before he teleported home. Melissa had simply looked to Dracon. “What would our orders be my lord?”

“You’re orders are as follows: Saarith and Melissa, you two will be in charge of Vashtalia. I have just decided to accompany the scouts in searching for ‘Tara. Serenity I leave you in charge of keeping an eye on Megan while I’m gone. I do not want her to leave Vashtalia until she is completely recovered, I’m sure Randall will help you with that aspect. You may request Aerich to assign more guards to Megan’s room if you think it necessary.

“Very well” The response seemed kinda echoed since all three had said it at the same time.

Janis had been busy pulling out a crystal ball and was working with it before she put her two cents in. “You will not find her where you are looking, I do not detect any life from that realm. Besides, something is about to happen.”

“Janis, with all due respect you do not have to help in this. Even your tactics can fail to find someone and if something is about to happen I assure you we’ll be ready for it. If we’re not then I suppose we’ll have to improvise. Oh by the way, Randall, if you wish to check on Megan she’s staying in one of the guest rooms. We were able to remove the enchantment from her, if any remain then it should begin to fade.”

Upon Dracon’s response to Janis she had merely put away the crystal ball and vanished after thanking the Vashtalian Lord for being an asshole.

“That’s a relief, maybe her healing abilities will start to kick in now. I think I will go check on her.” Randall then getting up and making his way down one of the hall’s , figuring that he’d find Megan’s room simply because there was sure to be guards at her door. The guards were not so much to protect her, but to prevent her from trying to help Drac, should she find out that he’d gone off on a fact finding expedition. Even then he had only walked off after bidding Drac and the others a good night.

This action being followed by the rest of them, good nights were exchanged amongst all before each one left Dracon to himself, the latter taking a seat on a sofa finally. “If anyone has done anything to Ishatara they will surely pay…”

Brimstone was once again camping on Janis's doorstep, this time maybe 100 feet from the threshold. Dusk had come by with supplies and he was currently trying to roast marshmallow, but it was so bitter cold that they burned on one side, but froze almost solid when turned from the flames.

Of course he knew Meli had been in the house last time. When he drew the ring out, the momentary lapse in her mind gave her away. But that wasn't the point at the time. He had thrown out his lure, now he had to wait and see what came out to bite.

Janis threw the cover over the black crystal ball, unable to bear to see into it anymore. That old strange feeling had started creeping up her back as a tear escaped her eye. The silence in the house made that bad feeling grow, and she had to do something about it. She stood up and headed to the front door, opening it to see what the 'borg was up to today. As she did, she was joined by a huge mastiff sized dog, that seemed to stare out at the metal man with more animation than what Janis seemed to muster.

Brimstone could pick up the strange vibe, even from that distance. Something had upset Janis, and in his eyes, and especially in his position, that was not a good thing. Of course he realized that involving himself into any other project other than Meli was a risk, but Janis was a friend.. well maybe a close acquaintance.. on some days.. He grinned back at her in and overly exuberant face and waved the fingers on his right hand at her. "Morning!" he beamed, even when she looked at him blankly. He tried again. "It's a pretty brisk day building up out here. I don't suppose you would have a spare cup of joe for a frozen man, do you?"

"Don't think," she responded, just as bland as her facial features. "You think too much. And I don't know why you would want to drink another man."

"Okaaaayyyy.." She tried peering around the room, seeing if he could spot the problem right off. "I'm sorry. I forgot that you're not used to my kind of slang. "I meant a cup of coffee. May I come in?"

"They say never to invite a vampire in," she replied, again with no animation in her voice.

"I'm not a vampire, Dear. I'm a cyborg."

Faced with that type of logic, Janis opened the door. "Come in and have some tea. I have no coffee beans."

As he stepped in and once again was making sure that no snow or mud was dragging in by himself; Marek magically appeared at the other end of the den with Goury in tow. "Hey! Dude! How are things back at the bar!"

Goury didn't really want to tell him, but it was best to come forward with the bad news now than spring it on the poor fellow later. "Not too good. Its seems that Jason is trying to sell it."

BS froze, then turned to take the swordsman in with both his eyes. "He's doing What?"

"Uhm.. Yeah.. He's fixing up the place and is going to sell it."

It was a long uncomfortable quiet spell as BS chewed on this information. "Well... I guess it can't be helped. He Is the owner now.." He pulled off his duster, the garment barely feasible for keeping off any sort of climate.

While Goury and BS chatted of bar rumors, Marek peeked into the adjoining room, then back at Janis. "Perhaps you should finish." She nodded and slipped into the room, locking the door before taking her place once again at the foot of the orb. Before Brimstone could intervene. Marek stepped up to the chatting duo. “Why don't you look in the kitchen. I am quite sure you can find a kettle of water to make some tea."

The 'borg had indeed seen Meli slip off into the other room, but made no fuss about it. Instead he took Goury by the elbow and led him into the kitchen. For such a big bulky guy he was gentle enough with the china and the teapot, even ignoring the charms that seemed to animate the room. A sugar bowl appeared at his elbow the second he though about adding a few lumps to his brew. In some ways he was much like Goury, blissfully ignorant. Only he chose to be at his discretion. Instead he handed Goury a cup of Earl Grey and settled into a wicker chair by the breakfast nook. Goury thought the scene filled with oddities, but after having lived on and off with the mutants, he knew it to be the norm. "I'll tell you, I trust this Jason about as far as I can throw what's left of the mountain.”

"Yeah, he could give Tim a run for his money. What did Megan have to say about all this?"

"I don't know. All I know is that she's recuperating from that wound she took from Destroyer."

"Still? Didn't Drac like jimmie that thing shut? I thought it almost killed him?"

"It has apparently reopened."

BS would have pounded the table if it was his. "Damn.. nothing goes right for us...ever." He reached over and grabbed the kettle from the fireplace, apparently not feeling the searing metal on his good hand. "Poor Megan must be screaming bloody blue murder. You know how magic hurts her."

"She is hiding her discomfort well enough, and Randall is there in case she needs and scientifically based treatment."

"And Nine?" Brimstone asked. "What has our miss-timed matriarch have to say about all this?"

"Not much. She's off traveling, but Randall has a tracking device on her this time. He says he can located her anywhere in the world with it."

"I bet." but he gestured for Goury to be quiet and Janis staggered into the kitchen.

While BS danced around Janis's perplexing temperament. Marek had found Isilwen and lead her to the stables, showing her the great mare and her rounding belly. She smiled, stroking the soft mane and neck of the animal as the mare munched on timothy hay. "This is Terra," he smiled, very proud of his animal husbandry. "She is yours... if... You marry me."

It took her a few minutes to catch her breath so she could speak. "I would very much like to marry you, Marek."

Now the towering hulk bent down on one knee and took up her hand. "Then that is a yes?"

She smiled and nodded then almost cried when he placed the studded engagement ring on her finger, then kissed her softly.

Marek closed the door to the stable, then tumbled into the straw with his new bride to be.

The 'borg cocked his head some. Janis seemed confused, dizzy at best, and if her mind wasn't totally in this plane of existence. "Did you need a cup of something warm, dear?" he asked.

"No," she answered back, short and clipped."

"Maybe some aspirin then, Janis? You look just a little bit peaked."

That hazed looked like it was thickening. "So many deaths that are not known...." she murmured. then the haze lifted some. "Dracon will not listen to me," she confessed.

 Brimstone gave a nervous laugh, not sure if Janis was becoming a ticking time bomb. It sure felt like it. "That's okay. Not many of us listen to Drac. What won't he listen to you about?"

"His wife. No one ever listens to a lady who has a crystal ball. And you are the ones I cannot tell." "Well it's not like I'm gonna go blab my aluminum lips. Is it that bad?"

She nodded, looking past both the swordsman and the metal man. "I also saw things I had forgotten about; or thought I had forgotten."

"Bad things, I'm guessing." He finally caught a glimpse of the seeing ball in the other room and put things together. Dabbling in anything dealing with the future can be upsetting.

"I think you call them ghosts," Janis replied, pulling her hair back. "The spirit realm is a very confusing place."

The hideout was buzzing with business. Jason currently had a perspective couple looking over the bar's interior. Two tall lizardly looking creatures; a mated pair it seemed though he couldn’t determine and difference between the two. To Jason, it didn't matter. They had money and they seemed interested, even as he shuffled from foot to foot. The reptilian creatures churred and nodded to each other in their language. "And I just had the dance floor newly refurbished in oak," Jason pitched. "Wonderful for the nails."

As he tapped the floor with a booted foot, the air just above him rippled, then ripped open, and a large hunk of metal and flesh fell through the opening, landing on the floor. More like into the floor as the impact made a 3 ft crater and pinned Jason's toe. He yelp and yanked his foot free, clutching at the bruised toe while hopping on his good foot as he spewed out a healthy stream of Del Marian curses.

Brimstone stood up, totally disoriented but politely tipped his had to the lizard people. "Howdy," he said, then proceeded to stare at the dramatic change in the decor of his favorite abode. A few more steps and he realized just How he had been transported and a frown spread across his normally amiable face. "I guess that was a 'no'."

Jason had no sympathy as he sat down on one of the expensive couches, the plastic covers still in place. He peeled his boot off, discovering two broken toes and a vicious scrape from ankle to toe. "Big Cow!" he howled back at Brimstone.

The big man didn't take that comment well. He stood up, scowling down at the puny man. "Well excuse me! I'll have her drop me off somewhere more convenient for you next time!" and for good measure he stomped on Jason's other foot before storming down the hallway.

The reptilian merchants just stared at the scene, blinking their huge yellowish green eyes in unison before gathering their papers and quickly heading back up to the loft exit to access the mountain pathway, the manner from which they had arrived. Jason tried hobbling after them. "No! Don't Go!" but he was too damaged to manage more than two paces before he had to flop down on the couch.

A shadow moved behind him, then slowly materialized into a small tattooed woman in black. She skirted just arm's length away from Jason, then looked at the hole in the dance floor. "Isn't that lovely," she commented blandly.

"Well, that's what you get when 500 lbs of useless metal just falls out of the sky unannounced." He squinted a bit, then sat upright on the couch. "You must be the current apple of the metal man's eye, am I right?"

She looked at him with a cold stare. "I'm her evil twin."

"Sure you are. You gonna fix that hole?"

"Do pigs fly?"

"If you launch them with a catapult, they get great hang time."

Just then Brimstone stumbled in, toting a Dagwood sized sandwich only to drop the platter when he spotted Meli across the room, leaving yet another major dent in the hardwood floor.

            The psi- hunter spun around, sword in hand, looking all the while of fire and death. Sights which didn't put Brimstone off his mission. "I heard it said that you wanted an apology from me, in person; about how I was rude to you."

            She continued to glare at him. "I don't trust your words."

            "Then, how about actions.." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the strangely stoned ring, then knelt down on one of his mechanical knees. "I've thought about you ever since you left. You've gotten under my skin, and I can't leave you alone. Not like this. I'm asking you to marry me."

Randall had located Nine alright, in the middle of the sewer, currently trying to stave off three muggers. They were trying their hand at taking her wallet and she was trying her hand at beating them to a pulp. It looked more to be a mud wrestling match as all four combatant were covered in slime and muck and God knows what else as they slashed and parried towards each other. Due to the slippery footing, most blows were missed, or glancing at best, making for a fairly even battlefield. Nothing like the sewers to bring out the best in people. Nine was making a good showing, holding Defender aloft, the silver blade also covered with sewer goo. She spotted Randall, then ducked just in time as assailant #2 swung at her head with an axe. "About time! Zap these creeps!"

He obliged her setting his sidearm to a heavy stun before firing at the nearest attacker. Attacker #1 fell like a lump of wet dirty clothes. Number 2 and 3 took off, leaving Nine leaning against the reinforced tunnel wall, panting. "Yeah, you Better run!" she managed to cough after them.

"Are you okay , Hun?" He wanted to hug her, but he didn't know if all the fight had gone out of her, and frankly, she stank.

"Just dandy." She ran the edge of Defender coarse-wise across her arms, trying to scrap off the muck. "Can't even walk down the street without being jumped. You’d think Jason would have better security, what with his prize investment on the chopping block and all."

Randall gestured to the scene. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, you know, the normal You-girl-weak.-give-money thing. They never learn." Randall could hear the contentment and pride. It wasn't often she was able to compete in any battle without it being biased one way or another. Randall figured she could use a few more of those moral boosters.

            They found Marek knocking politely at the door to the hideout, with Isilwen by his side, her hawk Einar on her shoulder, and a strange tall dark haired fellow with silvery eyes standing behind, waiting for admittance to the bar. "Go ahead and open it, Marek. They probably can't hear you will all the drilling and sawing and what not going on below."

The tall fellow looked the younger slimed covered woman over before feeling he recognized her. "Megan! I finally found you!" He stepped forward, but then paused. She wasn't quite right in his recalling. She was younger, if that was possible, and seemed to be in a much healthier, if somewhat messy state, and by comparison, clearly wasn't pregnant. "Are you okay?" he asked. He has spotted several bruises and cuts, but they seemed minor, at least now they did.

             Nine thought the tall dark stranger had hesitated due to the fairly aromatic stench that wafted off her and she shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Sorry. Occupational hazard of having one of your accesses into a sewer. there are all kinds of thugs down here." She now squinted at him, then realized who he thought she was. "You've must have bumped into that suicidal wreck Megan, I bet. I'm not her. I'm Nine. We just look alike cause we're sort of kind of related."

            He continued to stare, and not just for comparison's sake. "You do look quite a lot alike," he noted.

            Marek had some trouble with the door, but it finally swung open. "Okay, " he announced quietly. "We are looking for a severely irrational woman that's about five feet tall..."

Nine was a bit concerned. The two dragons that Brimstone had used for guard dogs hadn't sounded off. "This isn't good," she murmured, still trying to wipe tunnel muck off her hide.

"I should say so," Marek echoed. "It's the Lunar eclipse on Exidor.. not a good thing. She's going to be on the crazy side."

Nine made her excuses quickly, then darted down a side corridor, determined to scrub the smell out of her hide, even if she had to draw blood. She didn't have to go through such an extreme. Even cleaning the tarnish off of Defender wasn't nearly a chore. Which was well for when she rejoined the crew dressed in jogging shorts and a tank top and took Randall's kiss on her cheek, they had found Brimstone on bended knee. Meli has her blade drawn and was pressing her weight against the only visible vein in his neck. He didn't flinch, even when his skin wrapped around the blade as it sunk into his flesh, the electronic microbes working overtime to keep him from bleeding to death. Marek, however, rushed forward. "Okay, that's enough now..."

            Meli glanced back at Marek. "You know what I've come for," she hissed at him.

            "Yes I do," the big man replied, inching forward. Finally he saw his chance and lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the woman before she could stab the 'borg or herself with the wicked edged blade.

            "No!" Brimstone wailed, then jumped into the middle of things, using himself as a wedge between Meli and Marek. The psi hunter managed to work herself free, biting, kicking and clawing all the while. She fell to the floor and scurried to her feet and bolted out the door, the 'borg hot on her heels.

            Marek just shook his head. "You can keep the vermin," he grumbled as he returned to the group. Traverse, the vampire had already introduced himself to Randall, even as the duo watched the melodrama unfold before them. The blacksmith dug through his cloak and pulled out a pipe. "Guess he'll have to deal with her vampirisms on his own."

            "Vampire?" Nine echoed? "Meli's a vampire?"

            "Only during every lunar eclipse." He paused, seeing that everyone had been staring. "It's been a good cure so far," he insisted as he lit his pipe.

            "So your Auntie is hunting BS for his blood? Doesn't she know that his fluids ain't good for consumption?"

            Marek shrugged his massive shoulders. "This vampire thing is just a byproduct of her job environment."

            Nine sighed. "I suppose we can't let her drain him now, can we? Megan'd get all bent out of shape, and I'm sure BS wouldn't like it much either.. stupid fool. Well... let's go after them."

            "You should just let me take care of it," he insisted as he tapped the last of the pipe's ashes out onto the floor, knowing that neatness was not quite a necessity in this house.

            "Do you think that walking trash can is going to listen to reason?"

            "Nope."

            "Then you'll be needing me to run interference."

            While Marek waited for Nine to find something capable of stopping the metal man, Randall sidled up next to Traverse as he stared after the girl. The vampire was a bit in thought. "Last I saw of your Megan she was very sick. I had lost track of her. I can assume now that she has slipped into the sewers. When I saw your Nine..."

             "They do look like twins. Meg is in Vashtalia recovering from her injuries. Apparently some sort of magic was at work interfering with her healing. Mutants don't deal with magic well. Drac's sister was able to remove the spell, but it's still a painful battle."

            "How horrible."

            Marek lead the way through the hideout, somehow able to sense Meli where neither the 'borg's red eye or Nine's heightened senses could detect her. They found Brimstone standing in the middle of one of the larger, roughly hewn congregating rooms, his arms held slightly out as if trying to feel his way around in the dark, though the room was well lit. Marek snorted. "You think she's hiding from you? She's hunting you!"

            "Tell me something I don't know!" the big metal man hissed back. "What the hell did you DO to her! She wasn't like this before!"

            Before Marek could reply, BS suddenly crumpled, thank's to Nine knocking out his kneecaps with a flying kick. With the metal man out of the line of fire, Marek was also able to tackle his target as she moved. He swooped Meli up into an oversized gunny sack and quick as a cat, was gone.

            Traverse and Randall had decided that a tactical retreat from the growing brawl was a good idea and moved back into the dance hall area, looking over the injured man left behind. Jason had rolled over on the couch, unable to follow with both feet crippled, and could only wince when he heard more crashing in the next room. "Gotta love this place," he shrugged.

            The vampire took up one of the newly bought suede bar stools and parked ever so softly. "This Is a really interesting place," he had to concede.

            Just then Nine's limp body slid across the floor, the newly polished boards letting her coast right up to Jason's couch, a good thirty feet at least. Nine may have had the upper hand for a second during the fight, but BS had rallied with a solid punch to Nine's jawbone, ending the argument quickly. Both Traverse and Randall were on their feet and rushing over, expecting to find her dead. Instead the vampire was treated to see her talent in action as the bone snapped back into line with an audible pop while the harsh red marks faded quickly.

            Jason just covered his head and cried. "Venetian tile. Old oak flooring. This is a nightmare.

            Traverse had no idea who was who, but he knew the girl still needed help as she was still unconscious. "You! Help her!" he commanded, reaching out and tapping Jason on the shoulder. Well it should have been a tap. Being a bit upset, the vampire had forgotten about his own strength. What should have been a tap broke Jason's already broken arm further along the radius, causing the man to scream out in pain. This was further exasperated when Travers dragged the wailing man off the couch to make room for Nine as Randall scooped her off the floor and onto the couch.

            It was time like this that Jason regretted ever marrying Megan.

xsealadx, undyingsublimity

            Goury had been talking with his new friend Lilith, a seafaring woman currently on the lamb from bounty hunters, when he had spotted Nine across the bar. She had sidled up to the counter and managed to get a shot of whiskey for her troubles. Clearly not what she had in mind, she still slammed the drink back before spotting the blond swordsman across the room. She managed to push her way through the throng to reach him. "So when did You start hanging out in dives?"

            "I just came to visit my friend Lilith here. Lilith, this is Nine. She's a friend of mine."

            Even one of the bar's urchins saw that intense meticulous stare Nine gave Lilith and scurried, thinking the woman about to start a fight. But Nine behaved herself, only frowning momentarily before extending her hand in proper greeting. Lilith was quite courteous. "Nice to meet you, Nine." The buccaneer thought the smaller woman's grip to be quite strong, unnaturally strong for such a small hand, but she didn't crush any bones. "So what brings you here?" she asked.

            "Drink, of course. It's damn nippy out there." As she sat, Lilith caught sight of something moving behind Nine's small frame. The hilt of a very shiny long sword had been hanging just over the girl's shoulder, but it shifted over. From what Lilith could see, it shifted all by itself, unaided. In fact it leaned forward as Nine did, as if listening in on the conversation. "Goury, I heard the BS is back. Did he really put a hole in the floor?"

            "Really?" Goury echoed. "I guess Meli didn't vaporize him then."

            "I guess not. I saw the lug up on the outlook looking just as whipped as a puppy in love can look. Guess she said no." Again Nine turned to look the girl over, but the whiskey had done some to lighten her mood a bit. "Has our boy here been regaling you with tales of the weirdo mutants?"

            Goury turned, seeing that Lilith was already lost. "Meg's uncle has been having relationship problems."

            As was common with the mutant breeds, they miss interperate words. Nine had thought that Goury misspoke Megan's name for hers and she whipped about, her somewhat buoyed mood deflated. "I'm Not Megan, you Idiot!” and she thwapped the back of his head roughly before spinning on her heel and blowing out of the bar full of righteous indignation.

            "I guess I may have inadvertently insulted her," he mused, the blow already causing a goose egg to swell.

            "I guess so," Lilith agreed. "She is an odd one."

            "She can be a bit touchy at times."

            As one mutant left, another seemed to slide into the vacated place. This one literally slid in from the dark corner of the bar, clad in charcoal black, contrasting the mop of straw blond hair that seemed to stick out in every which direction. Still he was familiar enough to Goury, who recognized him as the Rex. "You had to bring up the fact that she's no longer what she was, didn't ya?" Timothy chided. At least he looked like Timothy, but a younger, healthier version. And his hair was not dyed black. He picked up the chair Nine had been sitting at and turning it around so he could straddle it before setting about lighting himself a rolled cigarette.

            "Hi, Tim," Goury nodded. "Ran out of black dye?"

            The psi took a moment to look Goury's friend over with a leering smile before answering Goury's query. "Not quite. Seems the hair isn't as porous as the last one was. Maybe that was my first hint that I was wearing out the welcome mat." He pocketed his smoking tin and scooched a bit closer to the woman buccaneer. "So, whose your friend here, Goury? Pretty little dish.."

            Lilith couldn't help but scootch away from the man, his smooth manner just giving her the creeps. Goury made his introductions quickly. "This is Lilith. Lilith, this is Meg's dad Tim. I warn you, I wouldn't trust him any further than you could through your brother's ship."

            She found herself in full agreement. Her brothers had a Big ship.

            "Oh come now," Tim complained, thought he kept his gaze firmly fixed on Lilith. "You make it would like I'm some sort of evil snake. I'm far from that. Trust me."

            "Yeah right," Goury growled, becoming just as unnerved with Tim's intense socializing skills. "It would insult the snake to call you one."

            "Nonsense," the Rex insisted, sliding closer to Lilith, gently taking up one of her hands and kissing the knuckles lightly, even as she tried to pull away. "I am Timothy Draconus Rex, world class psionic and driving force behind our merry little band. At least I still thing I am." He smiled, letting his name roll off his tongue loaded with all the trim that title held. Granted it would be lost on the woman, but it was interesting to see just how far she'd go to escape him, yet keep her dignity. "Surely my daughter hasn't been saying bad things about her darling dearest father? I love my family soooo much."

            "I think I need a shovel to clear out all this crap you are spewing," Goury grumped, scooting back himself to allow Lilith a path to escape, but Tim's gentle yet firm grip on her fingers wouldn't let up. "Lilith, you better make sure all your rings are still on those fingers when he's done."

            She did one better. As Timothy reluctantly let go of his victim, she leaned over and picked up her pet Charles, a snarling vicious little capuchin monkey, at least snarling towards Timothy whom retreated just far enough to avoid the furry critter's nasty canines. Goury thought this would be the most opportune time to divert Tim's attention. "I take it you know that Meg's apparently dead husband has shown up?"

            "And is running the bar. Yes, I know. Interesting fellow that Jason is, isn't he?"

            "I thought he learned his craft from you."

            Tim had to laugh. Mainly because he has spotted a familiar face in the crows and was trying to cover his surprise seeing the silver clad paladin once again. Hadn't that guy died already, he wondered. Still , Tim kept up the stream of the conversation, even if his full attention wasn't on the subject. "Hey, I didn't train him. Besides, don't you think him the perfect match for Megan? He's rich, smart, and seems to have as many lives as she does."

            "He comes off as conniving as you," Goury insisted.

            "You have to be conniving to run a multi- billion dollar corporation." He smiled a bit as Goury's eyes bulged at the price tag. "Oh. Did Megan forget to tell you about that part?"

            "From what I understood form BS was that he was a huge military contractor."

            "Oh that's probably only a third of his total income. The man ain't stupid." He laced his fingers, especially since he couldn't get any closer to Lilith without risking some injury from her simian pet. "So, where IS my loving daughter? Still stalking that gargoylish loser of a critter? Or has she come to her senses and gone back to Jason. I know she could use the money."

            Goury sighed, not sure if this would necessarily be bad news to the Rex, but from what he had seen, Timothy did actually care for Megan, and the rest, in his own perverted way. "Meg is in Vashtalia recovering from an injury inflicted by Dusk and Destroyer."

            The Rex's slick facade slipped a little when Dusk's name was mentioned. "Really? How much damage?"

            "Well, Meg was dead until Drac resurrected her. It took him well over two weeks to recuperate."

            Timothy new well the extend of Drac's capabilities and shuddered. "All that magic must've stung."

            Finally the paladin had made his way across the room, having had to think long and hard about the strange blond man in the black garb before remembering. "Knew it had to be you, Tim. Nobody can forget when we first met."

            Tim was already looking for the exits, but had to fall back on his pseudo smiles. "Uhm.. no hard feeling from that last time, then?"

            "I sure hope not." Retyir Leukin seem downright amiable about whatever had happened before between the two. "Last time we clashed we nearly leveled a mountain, right?"

            Goury was beginning to realize the history Brimstone's Bar had behind its foundings. That mountain must have been HUGE to start with.

            Tim seemed to relax some now. "We had a little help back then, Ret. And we were just a tad bigger." He now turned to the group that seemed quite confused that anyone would give the psi the time of day. "Goury, this is Retyir. He used to be a paladin and a real close friend of the family."

            "Now Tim, you now I'm Aurora's brother, which would make me Megan's Uncle."

            "Only by blood oath. You weren't born with it." There was no animosity in the exchange, as if the two men knew exactly where things stood between them. Timothy continued with the introductions. "Ret, this is Goury. He's a bit of swordsman in his own right so you two might have something to chat about. And this is his lovely companion Lilith." He leered again, and the greasy car salesman persona seemed to slid back onto his skin.

            Retyir just shook Goury's hand in greeting and sat down with them. "So, who owns this place?" he asked.

            "Dunno," Tim replied. "I was just stalking Nine."

            "And the bar is still standing?" Retyir joked. Apparently he knew the mutant disposition rather well.

Tim had watched the large arthro make his way around the room. The tiger- looking creature stood nearly seven feet tall so it wasn't difficult to miss. His upper torso was unclad, but covered in silky white fur, the lower half covered with a stiff set of pantaloons, plain but practical. He continually sniffed the air, trying to sort through the nasty human odors, catching something strange and was meandering his way through the throng. Something about Lilith's scent had caught his attention and now he hovered over her, snuffling her hair. "May I help you , sir?" she asked, find yet another strange creature closing in on her and very afraid he would actually take a chomp out of her skull.

Speech seemed to come very difficultly for the creature. "S... sorry.. You.. smell.. different than others."

Her fear was now supplanted with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

Again the beast hesitated, as if trying to wrap the feline lips around the words. "No human.. you are?"

She wasn't sure what the beast was getting at, but she found herself a bit braver to respond. "My name is Lilith, if that is what you mean. I am a sea elf."

This seemed to intrigue the tiger-man further. This also set Tim a bit on edge. He had done his best to ignore the beast, but that ornery streak in him wouldn't leave it alone. He finally stood up to face the monster. Timothy was by no means tall. Lilith herself had three inches on him, but there was something about black leathers and the mannerisms that changed on the Rex as he faced down, or in this case, faced up to the arthro. "Excuse me? Do you have a problem here?"

The arthro had flicked his ears, slowly nodding, now that he understood the scent of the woman. Now he turned to the smaller man, finding his scent even stranger than the girl's. "Problem?" he asked, flicking the right ear with slight annoyance as he canted his head slightly.

Retyir had bailed, apparently sensing the battle due to come and having more sense, chose the pause in the mood to slip away. Therefore Timothy now had no backup. Not that he would let that slow him down either. "Yes! Problem! Why are you bothering this poor lady? Can't you see she just wants to be left alone?"

Lilith may have been intimidated by all of Goury's strange friends, but she had enough of the psi, he struck him hard across the face. "I am Quite fine! I can take handle this myself," and with a snort, she turned her back on the creepy mutant and continued her conversation with the gigantic tiger man.

Timothy was stunned, not with the girl's outbreak, but that she had connected. He was now convinced that this was not a good idea. There were too many people in the room and it was screwing up his mental radar. Too many minds to keep track of. The door movement caught his eye. The Vashtalian dragon king may try to hide himself behind normal brown tunic and pants and cover the whole facade with a black cape, but Tim was already moving for the shadows. This was not one encounter he was not ready for, just yet. In fact he was already muttering his excuses ad Drac approached the table. "I... uhm... er.. I hear Megan calling. Yeah. She needs me.. uhm.. bye." He turned and literally dove into the darkness in the corner of the tavern and disappeared.

"Thank Heavens he's finally gone," Lilith breathed, leaning a bit against the massive frame of the tiger-man.

Drac wasn't as sure.

The ruling psi of the Del Marian mutant class was panting when he finally had to stop, several miles away from Drac and his party, unable to hold him mind in for anymore controlled jumps. He was in one of the long alleyways that convoluted their ways behind the bars and taverns and merchant shops. This one had nobody around, not even any four footed critter trying to fish for food in the dumpsters, as if Tim was some sort of pestilence to be avoided. He slid against one of the masoned walls, then down the soft earth, trying to gather his mind and body.

That's when he spoke up. "Slick move there, Charlie Brown. You trying to get us both killed?"

Tim jerked his head up. There was still nobody in the alley, yet the psi continued his conversation. "We were doing just fine. Drac doesn't have a clue."

"He's suspicious of us."

"He's Always suspicious. This is Me we're talking about. He'd be stupid if he Didn't suspect something."

The other voice was quiet for a moment. "Sachell knew. He picked up my vibe."

Timothy shook his head. "No he didn't. It was the hair. Told you we should've dyed it." Now the Rex scrambled to his feet again and adjusted his garb. "I'm telling you this is gonna go like clockwork."

"It sure as hell better! Bad enough I've got that nutcase girlfriend of yours stalking me all over creation, but You kidnaping me...!"

"Trust me, it wasn't a kidnaping. It was a life-or-death decision. My life, that is."

Again that voice from nowhere mulled quietly. "You would have killed me, if you could have, wouldn't you've?"

Timothy sighed, rolling hs eyes. "Of course. Survival of the fittest. If the spell hadn't gone wrong we wouldn't be having this conversation. Again."

"And what about your golem? When is he going to fix this?"

"You heard them. Kid's lost most of his memory. Lucky he lived to tell any tale, and he sure as hell ain't telling ours. Just as long as we lie low and make like nothing's wrong, we'll be fine. Soon as Zelgadis comes around, we'll have him fix us, one way or the other. Besides, you're a lot safer here than back home. SHE don't care which of us she kills."

"It's Still all your fault. I had everything set up just perfect until you shanghaied me."

Timothy grunted, then peeked around the corner, seeing if the main street was clear of anyone he might know. "It's good to get a little chaos in your life. Breaks up the monotony. Just lie back and enjoy the ride for a while, will ya?

As the Rex slipped into the main strip, following along a rather loud and boisterous group of young elves, the other voice brooded. "And Her? What if She follows you here?"

"Then she's got a whole lot to answer for. She'll be too busy settling accounts to even worry about us."

That seemed to make the darker voice content enough to settle back and let Tim continue his quest.