27

You let Crystal sleep in on the next morning and roll your ass out of bed and go hunt down a teenage girl.

..wait, that came out wrong. Especially because you're planning on hunting down two teenage girls this week.

Taylor doesn't seem to be expecting you, but doesn't say anything about either your untimely appearance or your manly fanny pack. You let her maintain her stoic silence for a bit before you finally get stopped at a light. She makes a long pull from her water and looks over at you. "…so Crystal said you're pretty good at getting stains out of things?"

"Is this about your backpack?" At her nod you continue, "Sure, I can fix it up for you, but won't you need it this week?"

"Yeah, she said something about picking it up this weekend? I don't know, I'll email her."

Actually, you're pretty sure Crystal has gone full mother-hen and wants to take Taylor out shopping or something this weekend. Assuming things don't go tits-up of course.

With the ice broken, you and Taylor chat a bit more at crosswalks until it's time for her to head back to her house. You unbuckle the fanny pack and stop her. "I didn't see you yesterday, but happy Valentine's Day from Crystal and I." You pull some cookies out of the pack to show her and hand the whole thing over. The skinny girl freezes until you nudge her a bit, her eyes flicking between you and the bag. While you wouldn't need to be a mind-reader to see that she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, you are, so you get to see in explicit detail that she thinks you're going to splash her with water and run off laughing, knock them out of her hands, or a million worse things. Instead you brush your shoulder against hers and do your best to radiate calm when she startles. "Don't forget to hit up Crystal. I'll see you tomorrow."

You make it most of the way back to the apartment when you get a text complaining about the lack of coffee, so you show back up with a large cup of something claiming to be coffee with about a half-pound of whipped cream. You're barely through the door before you're mugged by a naked blonde. You manage to get a smack on one cheek as she floats away, though.

Tuesday's your early day, so you head over to the lair and fire off a text to Amy about the videos. You get a text back not long after.

A: BG has burn victims, gonna help

Ah, I'm not cleared yet :W

Supposedly tomorrow :W

You levitate the water and honey that you acquired into the ritual room and come out to another message

A: You could pick me up from the hospital?

A: Aunt Sarah okayed it

A: No one's going to freak

A: We could only do it for an hour or two

A: Team meeting got moved to today

Well, good. Being arrested would be irritating. :W

Let me know when you're done :W

A: Like two hours?

A: I'll text you again.

Enough time to do a test run of the cleansing ritual. You are going to do it for the entire ritual space, but that shouldn't add any appreciable time, so you portion out clean water and honey into a couple of bowls and place them in the ritual circle, along with the empty bowl that you'll fill with blood.

Before you step in and begin the ritual proper, however, you also gather some robes you found from the trunk and place them in the circle as well. They'll be cleansed and can remain in the circle for some time

Divesting yourself of all of your clothes, wands, and holsters, you step over the double-circle, take up the athame and move over to the empty bowl. You've checked and double-checked the enchantments on the blade and the edges will always remain magically sharp and never cause lasting damage while the flat will seal wounds. Still, it takes a moment of consideration before committing to the cut.

The dark glass blade parts the skin of your wrist so smoothly you don't feel anything before the blood wells up and flows thickly into the silver bowl. You're not sure how much pours out of you before it seems enough, but there's a deep pool of crimson as you press the flat of the blade against your wrist, leaving you unmarked.

Taking a spot in the center of the circle with the three bowls equidistant in a triangle within arms reach, you relax you arms at your side and lower your head. Standing there you breathe in and out slowly before gathering yourself and lifting, pulling on your magic like casting a spell.

"Cemjō, soitos, qe pāsmi mene weltis"

Come, magic, and heed my will.

A static charge rolls through the air as you turn first to the bowl of water and place your hand just over the surface.

"Wodṛ, kṛdiesṛwos dhoubnom, lowō mūdnós olja esmi mēk∂stos."

Water, heartsblood of the world, wash away all that is impure.

The contents roil as you pivot to the honey and speak the next line.

"Melit, k∂stos rōdōwos dhoubnom, newājō qe dhētum olja solwos ati."

Honey, pure tears of the world, renew and make all whole again.

The thick honey shimmers and shifts as you face the third bowl and intone,

"Kruwós, reigō que dómāmi ghāi-ke galnos que welwō anaeti mene weltis"

Blood, bind and control this power, turn it to my will.

The blood quivers in the bowl as if alive and waiting on your will.

A twitch of your hands and all three bowls erupt into pillars and commingle into a large sphere above your head, slowly turning first the same green as your eyes before changing to an imperial purple. You feel the invisible bounds of the ritual circle flex as they accept the first magic done within them and siphon small bits off to reinforce themselves. Still, above you the sphere gets bigger and bigger, with more volume than could be explained by the contents of the bowls.

At this point you have complete mental control of the ball, spreading it out to blanket the top of the ritual circle with a flex of thought like a stormcloud. And just like that cloud the purifying magic pours down on everything. It feels like being out during a summer rain shower, but yet you don't get wet, although there is a sense of something being drained away, leaving you feeling lighter and cleaner.

You let the cleansing shower continue for quite a while as you acclimate to the prickle of the ritual magic against your skin. While most of the ritual magic has drained away, drawing off those mystical impurities you gather the remainder as a much-reduced sphere before feeding it to the circle wards to speed their enhancement.

Positioning yourself in the center of the circle for the last time, you bow your head and gesture from the sky back to the earth and intone the ritual closing.

"Bhkirkos bhewmi ōsmi mō ghawōdskei. Soitos, egō ledō juwes, ṛskai qe esmi áiwi aiwós!"

The circle is open but unbroken. Magic, I release you, go and be always eternal.

Opening eyes you don't remember closing you walk out of the circle and can immediately sense the difference in the air. The ritual circle had become saturated with ambient magic and you didn't notice any issues. Out in the rest of your lair you feel slightly lethargic—nothing major, but you can easily see how you could overdo a ritual working and end up collapsing afterwards. In fact you just snag your phone from the table and check for messages (there are none) and collapse into the bed you keep there for a nice hour's worth of nap.

You awaken to a text from Amy and quickly go to pick her up from the hospital. Your arrival in the same break room you first met her in last week is simple, but you're a little suspicious when the white-clad healer points out that she really should be seen leaving the hospital. You really need to take a drama class or something, because a good, flat stare doesn't work well when made from behind a mask.

"You just want to be seen leaving with me to stir up PHO, don't you?"

Like some kind of tsundere she starts shaking her head and opens her mouth before stopping and slumping. "Yeah."

You chuckle. "Then sure, why not? Can I make a suggestion on how to do it?"

So you find yourself a few minutes later walking out of the hospital with Panacea holding one arm and your duster turned in to more of a cloak. Once you see someone with their phone out filming she points to them as if shocked, burrows into your cloak as she pulls it around her, and yells "Ninja Vanish!"

You manage to pull off an impressive cloud of billowing smoke and apparate both of you away in a split second, hopefully leaving behind a number of confused passers-by. Amy seems to appreciate it, leaning against you and giggling for a moment or two before she looks around the room.

"So this is your evil lair, huh?"

"Wait, evil?" You press a hand against your chest. "Oh hell no, I cleaned before I moved in and got rid of all the evil."

Shucking her robe, the brunette pulls her laptop out of her bag and starts setting up at the table. "You call it a lair. I'm pretty sure only villains call their places lairs."

"Well what am I going to call it? It's not a headquarters, it's not a bolt-hole. A hideaway?" You gesture around and shrug, "I'll talk with my architect to see about putting in a dungeon and a throne room so I can capture that essential evil lair feel." You pull a chair up next to her and sit, putting your Warlock phone down. "Before we get started, I want to make sure that Laserdream had spoken with you about my ability to enchant items with shields like the necklace you borrowed this weekend." At her nod you continue, "I'd like to enchant your robes with a physical shield, and something you will be able to keep on you with both a physical and emotional shield. The latter isn't great against masters, but it's what I have at the moment and y'know, better than nothing."

Amy reaches over and hands you her robe which you take and start enchanting immediately. It's the work of perhaps a minute and her face twitches minutely as she takes it back like she can almost-but-not-quite feel the spell layered on the cloth. She seems a little stuck on the other part, though. "I don't really have any jewelry that I wear other than earrings."

"Which I could enchant if you'd like, but you'd need to wear the same ones. I can also create simple items like the necklaces that Crystal had for testing."

"Uh… I'll try to come up with something?" She turns back to her computer and you see an open folder with thumbnails that look suspiciously like romance novel covers with your mask and Amy's face pasted on, but she smoothly closes it with barely a hint of red in her cheeks, opening a directory called 'Warlock clips' instead.

You push into her mind and she's miles better than she has been. While all of the previous couple of years of damage is still there, the past few weeks away from constant Vicky aura seems to have made a difference. She isn't 'healed' so much as she's moving on. Not the most healthy option, but better than wallowing like she would have in the canon timeline.

On a different mental track, though, is her certainty that Warlock and James are the same person. Crystal has been super cagy, but Amy's no fool. You follow one mental thread and see Amy and her cousin having an incredibly-stilted conversation before your arrival at the Pelham house the other day. Crystal was dodging the question of how she met you like a pro and Amy was pointedly not saying that she was damned sure that you are Crystal's boyfriend. Especially when Crystal told her that it was okay to flirt a little.

She wants to.

She's scared to.

She has no idea how to.

Scooting your chair a bit closer you lean over to see better as the teenager's fingers absently bring up an image viewer. She's done an excellent job pulling stills and short clips from all three phones that show action but doesn't give away too much—a gif that's obviously from one of the girls shows you smokejumping down to freeze and remove the gun from a Merchant's hand before bursting once more into smoke when another junkie comes around the corner of a van and doing it again, then leaning both statues against each other, for example, or shots from your various cameras (and possibly Lady Photon's) of the three of you posing singly or together looking pretty hero-y.

As Crystal said, though, anything she's put text on is suspect as hell. You can't even begin to understand half of the supposed memes.

"Where does the swordfish come in to this?" you ask.

"Well, you see, there's the people who always talk about using swords like it's more awesome and animeish, and then there's people who talk about slapping people with a fish, right?" She tilts her head towards you and looks out of the corner of her eye. "So it's become a thing. Lung and Kaiser and Hookwolf all have memes about it too."

"…and here I thought fish couldn't have power levels," you murmur, still confused. "At least the one where I'm covered in spikes is the obvious and expected edgy joke, even if I look like a steel porcupine."

Turning to you, Amy clenches her hands in frustration. "That's not even that bad, with the white and red color scheme I've been photoshopped into looking like an ambulance!"

It's a horrible idea to tease a walking biohazard, but you summon her robe from behind her so it drapes over the girl's body and transfigure a set of lights on top. A sound charm gives the 'wee-woo' of the siren.

Her lunge is so fast and brutal you have to smokejump to escape from her strangling hands and lead her on a couple of revolutions of the table before letting yourself be 'captured'. You dispel the changes and let Amy beat her hands against your chest as you pick her up and sit back down in front of her laptop with her on your lap this time.

"Why do you have to be a tool, Ja-jerk?" The hitch in her speech is small, but she's screaming internally that she's fucked up, that you'll hate her, that—

You merely tuck your arms around her a bit tighter and reach out to scroll down another page. "I'm not going to promise to use any of the memes, but since your thread already knows you were at the depot, feel free to post any of the action shots or clips you made in my thread. You can say you have my permission to do so." A glance down at the time tells you that she'll need to be back to the Pelham's soon. The slow rock of her butt against you tells you that she's gotten over the shock of your embrace. Part of you would really like to see where this goes, but this is neither the time nor place. No matter what your throbbing cock tells you.

There's a lull where she copies files to your phone as you hold her that keeps her on a slow simmer as the two of you grind. This isn't going to be sustainable forever, you need to talk to Crystal yet again about this. Still, you're not going to push the girl in your arms away or shut her out; it would only do more harm than you've healed.

In the end you feel that continuing the intimate feel is correct, even if it's getting time for her to go. Making sure to pitch your voice down as you lean near her ear. "Before I take you back, you need the other enchanted items. Have you made any decisions?"

Chewing on her lip, Amy brings up her browser and blazes through a search fast enough you can't see her autocompletes, and seems to know exactly where to click. "This."

Oh, nice. You hum appreciatively as you summon a velvet robe from where you had been going through some looking for ritual robes, as well as sacrificial gold baubles. Creating the necklace itself is the work of a few moments. Although she requests the charm be changed to an ankh, there's a moment in her head where she weighs asking for a copy of your mask instead.

Amy shudders as you fasten the choker and one hand fists itself down by her waist while the other brushes ever so lightly over the band around her neck.

Once again leaning close, you murmur the information about the shields and how it can't be used by others to choke her. When the words 'cannot be removed except by you or I' are said she almost begs for you to deny her the ability to remove it herself, but manages to keep it all in her head. Shifting her slightly you run your hand down her back for a minute or two before both of you reluctantly disengage to take her to the Pelham house.

When you return to the lair you scry Lisa's mark to get an idea of where she is. The connection is tenuous, but gives you a general sense of 'not quite downtown' as well as 'underground'. Super suspicious, so of course your immediate guess is that she's in Coil's snakehole. Ew. Evil lair, not snakehole. You take a map of the city and narrow the area down a bit, but can't get a good lock. You'll try again each evening until you have an idea of her general haunts.

Back in the main room, you throw your coat back on before heading out to the first of Diego's hides. This one is near the mountains to the south inside a dilapidated-looking garage hidden behind a condemned house. The exteriors of both buildings contain traps, but you're trivially able to bypass all of the man's planning simply by appearing inside.

It's been a couple of months since he visited the joint, so the water damage is new, but you're able to pop the safe and find the cash and gun kept in there. The remainder of the floor space is taken up by the beater car and motorcycle and a cot with medical supplies tucked underneath.

[X][Hideaway] Some combination? Write-in

-[X] Everything

All of the small stuff—the cash, gun, medkit and some spare clothes—go on the cot and get shoved into spare space in your trunk. With a bit of finagling you manage to get the motorcycle in as well, but that leaves you with the car. It's a pretty beat-up Crown Vic colored in the same dark blue of the Brockton police and a 'Police Interceptor' badge on the back, so it was probably an old cop car. Nothing special, there are likely millions of the thing so you won't feel bad if this doesn't work.

You pull out your wand, concentrate, and smoothly shrink the entire twenty-foot-long car into something the size and weight of a matchbox car, and it likewise goes into the chest.

Some additional poking and you find a fake passport for Diego taped to the recessed top of the safe, canned food and a hotplate, gas stored in plastic jerry cans, a couple of magazines about either guns or naked women, and a cheap cellphone from a 7-11 with a prepaid SIM still in the plastic. This really was just a simple bolthole then. Although you probably shouldn't have expected too much, being the farthest away of his hiding spots, this one was likely made for bugging the fuck out after he had gotten items from the other one. Unfortunately that one is in a residential area that would have people around at this time of day; perhaps you can hit it up tomorrow or Thursday evening.

You're pretty pumped when you walk into Programming on Wednesday right at 1. Crystal looks incredibly confused to see you, though. She does a pretty good job of containing her questions until you sit down, but as soon as you do she leans over.

"Don't you have an appointment, dear?"

You beam at her. "I do! And it's taken care of."

That seems to take the wind out of her sails. "But…" she cuts off as her phone dings with a message. She looks at it and goes rigid next to you before her head slowly turns. "How are you doing this?" she hisses at you, pointing to a selfie of Warlock in sitting in Calle's waiting room.

Oh man, you don't even try to keep the shit-eating grin off of your face, but you do shield your mouth from everyone else as you turn to look right in her eyes and wiggle your other hand's fingers. "Maaaaaaaaagic."

It is completely unsurprising that you get dragged into an empty classroom so fast after class that you might have windburn. "How are you in two places at once?"

"Seriously, magic." You step away from her and get the time-turner ready, after checking the class hours posted near the door. This'll do. "Now I'm not promising to be in Cape class, but hopefully I'll make it. Just act normal and I'll explain in my lair this evening." You step back in, kiss her, then back again and activate the time-turner to go back an hour and a quarter, appearing in an empty classroom. You apparate to your lair so fast that you don't know if you would even have been visible even if class had actually been in session.

You're geared up and ready to go in moments, and on the roof near Quinn Calle's office seconds later. You smokejump not directly in front of the building's entrance, but to the nearest cross-street, ambling down the sidewalk and ignoring the forest of phones that are quickly turned your way. You step inside and announce yourself to an amazingly professional receptionist. She doesn't bat an eye at Edgy McDeath just waltzing in, and manages to not roll her eyes at your selfie that you send to your girlfriend.

You're ushered back after only a moment to meet with Quinn Calle. As you vaguely remember from canon, he's Latino, dapper as hell in his navy-blue suit, and has that nasty facial scar that made him stand out. You shake hands and he gestures you to a seat before looking over some notes.

"Now, Warlock—I have to say this is a bit unusual for me, primarily because you aren't the focus of any undue attention from the law," he says with an easy smile.

You chuckle a bit. "And I'd love to say that I would like to continue not attracting their attention, but with how dysfunctional cape law seems to be I don't know if that's even possible."

Calle's lips quirk just the slightest bit. "Very true. Now, Carol was nice enough to give me a heads up on what she thought you might need, but before we get to that let's talk about the unpleasant fact that there will be costs involved."

You worm your way in to his head and see that he's on the up-and-up as far as this goes. "Let's set up a retainer and I'll stick some funds in to stock it. Part of what I'd like to ask involves other ways of making money."

As it happens, this was an eventuality that Quinn had already prepared for, and you shortly have a pet shark on retainer. Said bloodthirsty mammal then gets down to the current items at hand.

"Okay, first order of business is the PRT and the DA's office. When an independent is involved in some kind of law enforcement action that involves arrests, the prosecuting attorneys really want information that could help them in their case. I will admit I'm generally on the opposing side on this, but this is all fairly standard. It is unusual, however, for a cape to allow themselves to be penned in long enough to give a deposition."

Leaning back a bit you once again skim Quinn's mind. He's unworried that this could impact you negatively, but you should verify that verbally. "So that's when they just ask me questions about how and why I did what I did, record it, and use it to prove things like 'Bob the thug was actually there, because Warlock claims he saw him talking to Squealer before he froze him.'"

Calle points a pen at you. "Effectively, yes. Now what would likely happen is I will request a list of questions from the DA, we'll go over them together first and I'll check your story for any issues. Since you're not the one being indicted, there's not a lot of worry about any of it, but it's a good habit to check it anyhow. We could have it done here, at court, or in the federal prosecutor's office, whichever you feel comfortable with." Dropping the pen, he leans forward and gestures with his hands. "There is, at the moment, no requirement that you offer any testimony, and given how unhelpful most capes are, anything you do would make the prosecutors jump for joy." He leans back again, "I'd be with you if you decide to, no matter where, and the when could be negotiated. I'm sure they'd want something by the end of next week, though."

[X][Deposition] Offer to give a deposition at the DA's office

You lean forward to match the lawyer on the other side of the desk. "I have no problem giving testimony as long as we go through the questions ahead of time." You wave one hand off to the side in a throwing gesture. "If they act like bitches we can leave one way or the other; the main issue I see is that I believe that some of the Merchants had dirt on somebody in the Prosecutor's office—I don't know if it was the state or local one though."

Quinn's eyes light up and he folds his hands together and smiles. "Oh really. Do tell."

Leaning back and crossing your legs, you bring one hand up to touch the nose of your mask. "I can't prove any of it at the moment. It's all hearsay, but I'm planning on looking in to a lead I have on actual evidence. Like photographic evidence."

"If you find actual evidence of anything like that, tell me. If the local DA is compromised will go to the state, state to Fed, and Fed, well I know a few people in the surrounding states."

"Alright, second. You are cleared to heal at Brockton General—with or without Panacea. I have contact information, and they would like you to call them beforehand and give a rough estimate of the time you're willing to spend so that they can set things up so that there aren't any riots, and that there are sufficient cases. The pay rate listed is $150/hour minimum, or Medicare rates on the illnesses healed, whichever is greater." He holds up a hand as soon as he sees you twitch. "If you're going to ask anything about Panacea, all I can say is she is also paid. I negotiated one of the first contracts, but Carol took over shortly thereafter, and I know she's renegotiated with the hospital at least three times. I can ask her if she will share details of Panacea's contract, but she very well may not, and she has quite a bit of seniority.

"There are a number of other hospitals and similar places that will likely extend you similar agreements, again I'll check them over and we can discuss them before you agree or not." He puts the documents to the side and makes a note on a pad. "Are there any issues you want to discuss today?"

"Yes, actually, and the first couple tie directly in to healing," you offer. "While I have no problem with offering healing at one or more of the hospitals, would it be more profitable for me to also offer private healing? Or perhaps non-healing medial services like, say, plastic surgery?"

That gets his attention. "You can do plastic surgery?"

"It's better than that, really, there's no real surgery involved. I can make bodily changes to soft tissue effectively at-will as long as there's mass to do so. I can change hair, eye, and skin color, do nose and cheek jobs, lift and tighten, fix acne, modify voices…. Pretty much anything you could think of under the heading of 'plastic surgery' without the actual 'surgery'.

A hand has drifted up to Calle's scar and you tilt your head towards him. "Yes, including scars. Would you like a test run?" At his nod you urge him to go find a mirror and pull your wand while he's gone. He comes back in with a small pocket mirror and keeps his gaze locked on his scar as you repair it in moments. "Ta-dah."

Rubbing at his cheek his eyes flick from the mirror to you. "So this works with breast enhancement, weight loss…"

"Yes, and yes. It would even work for wrinkle-removing better than Botox. I do have limitations—I can't enhance breasts or butts or what-have-you unless there is body mass to shift around and turn into the extra padding, so if some high-fashion skeleton model wants a pair of double D's she needs to stop doing rails of coke and eat a lot of cheeseburgers for a week or so ahead of time. Also, I'm not actually turning back the clock, so wrinkles will come back with time, it's not going to keep them from forming again, and while I can make fat just disappear if people don't change their eating habits they're gonna get fat again." You shrug, "But if all they're looking for is a nose job I can match a picture or free-form it and it'll be perfect. Want perfect abs? I can sculpt them. Dick enhancement? Doable, but providing the blood is their own issue if they want to try and have a two-foot dong."

Quinn seems a bit at sea with all of this. "I can't even begin to offer you suggestions at the moment—my primary work is as a defense attorney." A sharklike grin spreads on his now perfect face after a moment. "However, I know exactly who to ask. Let me speak with them and I'll get back to you on that."

"Sure. I have a number of other questions, but let me throw out two more so you can keep your law clerks buzzing."

Shutting the mirror with a snap he starts scribbling notes furiously. "I'm sure they'll appreciate it. What else do you have?"

"I'd like to set up a base in an abandoned building. How could that be legally acquired without revealing information about me, and get things like electricity set up, and could I run into trouble for performing a magic show on the street or Boardwalk?"

The lawyer stops, looks at you sharply, and runs a hand through his well-pomaded hair. "And here I though you wouldn't be trouble. I'll get you a busking license—that's not the actual term Brockton uses, but it's close enough. You carry it on you and produce it if cops sniff around. There is a list of rules, and I'll get you a pamphlet.

"The base thing can be done, but I would need to know the location, find the current owner, get it sold to a holding company, and have the holding company handle things. If you want it kept quiet it would need to be done over a period of time, perhaps mixed up in with other sales. Get me the address and we can talk more."

You've piled a lot on his plate, so that's probably good. You have one last question, this one about the stunt you're about to pull outside. Luckily, you're all good. The two of you verify contact information and bid each other a good day before you step outside to a number of reporters and cape groupies hiding in ambush. Checking your phone you can see that you'll be able to make class if you hurry, so as much as you'd like to have an extended troll session you don't really have the time.

Still, you don't want to disappoint. You raise a small lectern and pause to look over the assembled… group.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, citizens of Brockton Bay, and… the rest of you, I guess. I have brought you together today to state, unequivocally for the record that I am not Myrddin, nor is he my father." You pause for a moment. "Nor am I his father, and there are no weird past-life, time-loop, or similar shenanigans involved. However," you lean forward and use magic to project your voice all the way to the back of the crowd, "I officially declare that I am not the evil twin of Myrddin!" You spread your arms out like you're revealing a deeply-held secret, "Because I am not the one with a goatee! I am the good twin!"

There is a collective blink as you calmly dismiss the lectern and start to stroll off. It turns out you didn't quite time things right as everyone starts yelling just a few moments before a honking cacophony heralds a number of geese with protest signs claiming 'Down with animal use in magic acts!' flapping towards you angrily. You turn, and with a familiar cry of "Ninja vanish!" burst into smoke right as they reach you, leaving only feathers and confusion behind.

…needless to say the stare from Crystal when you stroll in to Cape 101 with about ten seconds to spare is murderous. You're not even sure if she blinks the entire class, and the side of your head is uncomfortably warm. Given her… irritation, you don't resist when you get marched double-time to her dorm room, you just grab her and pop to your lair.

"Before you explode from holding in your questions, let me explain. I have unlocked the ability to go back in time for short-ish periods."

You can almost see whatever train of thought she had get derailed and catch on fire. "What?!"

You step up to her and put your arms around her. "It's the truth, as odd as it sounds. I can only really do a bit more today, and doing it on a regular basis would probably hurt me, but it seemed like a good idea to try to establish Warlock as, well, not-James Peverell. Let's check in with myself and you can prove it." You turn Crystal to the side as you slide behind her and watch as you shimmer into existence and tuck the time-turner away. The other you is shirtless and steps forward to press your girlfriend between you. "It's me, likely from just a short time in the future. We are both your boyfriend."

Crystal's trembling hand touches your chest as you banish your shirt. She looks into your eyes as you lean into her and speak into the shell of her ear. "Perhaps you've had thoughts about this?" In front of her you hold one of her hands to your cheek and tilt her chin up to kiss her softly, right as you press another kiss right below her ear. "Imagine the possibilities."

Her breathing is ragged but she manages a giggle. "Oh no, one of you is more than enough right now, I'm pretty sure two would…." she trails off as her eyes unfocus and you share a look with yourself. The eyebrow quirk looks just as insufferable as you feel doing it. Your girlfriend snaps back into reality as you apply your lips and hands to her for a few sweet moments. In time, however, you step back and let you take Crystal into your arms, then position yourself in the correct spot. "See you fifteen minutes ago, sweetie."

Crystal jolts as you disappear, turning back to make sure you're still with her. "Two hours max, and I'm not sure doing it every day is a good idea. I'm all tapped out for today and somewhat tired because of it; your dirty little mind will have to wait."

Adorably, she actually stamps her foot and glowers at you. "My dirty mind? You jerk!"

Ooh, that tickles something. You fill Crystal in on your playdate with Amy yesterday and she gets quiet. "She knows. Neither of us have said the words to each other, but she knows I know, and I know she knows. She will never say a thing, though." She sighs and cuddles into you. "Let me talk to her, but you may want to reveal yourself if only to make things easier on yourself."

Groaning as she stretches in your arms, you grab your missing shirt and pop the both of you back to her dorm. You're going to be doing a movie night in the common area of S Klub's hall and are meeting them for dinner, so you have no real reason to head back to your apartment.

You end up on a ratty couch with one arm around Savannah's shoulders that she's clasped between her breasts and the other on the back of the couch with Soon-Yi cuddling into your side. Susan and Crystal are sharing a large chair and whispering intensely about something that involves a lot of giggling. Sarah was supposed to be joining you but said she'd be late, and Karen and Sierra are out with their boyfriend and at their job, respectively.

About halfway through a frankly horrible romantic comedy that the girls decided on Sarah comes in and slumps down on the couch. The movie's put on pause as she tells you all that her big from the sorority has gone missing. She had spoken with the girl on Monday and there was a date with her boyfriend in the works now that he was out of the hospital, but she hadn't turned up at the sorority house yesterday or today. Soon-Yi and Susan offer hugs and sympathy as the girl frets.

Around that point Karen shuffles in and leans against the doorway, clearly having heard the last couple of sentences. "So your big sister is actually named Chloe Barker, Sarah?" Her mind is odd, slimy-feeling, and almost like it's clogged.

"Yeah, neither she or her boyfriend have been seen since Monday," the half-Asian girl replies. That's when you feel ten more slimy-brained presences enter your range. They're all heading directly for the lounge.

Karen doesn't seem to have noticed Crystal pillowed in the chair as she sighs. "Well that sucks for you." She takes a lurching step forward as guys in long jackets crowd in behind her. "Because master has said that you're all to be brought to him."

You manage to slide your phone out of your pocket despite Savannah hogging your side so you could warn Crystal of Karen feeling weird, although you'd have to couch it as something other than mind reading. Feeling the others arrive had you change the message to Amy, your only New Wave contact on this phone.

W/ sklub karen mastered? :J

10 mor minions :J

Phn 2 savna :J

Trusting Amy to take it from there you make sure the phone's silenced and shove it in Savanna's hands. "I've texted Amy, keep her updated," you hiss, pushing her down so she's not as visible over the back of the couch. Looking over to the right, Crystal has rolled out of the recliner and is crouched on the other side, ready to act.

You decide to provide her a distraction. Whirling to your feet you draw the redhead's eye. "Karen, we're not interested in your BDSM roleplay."

Karen looks rough, with deep bruise-colored bags under her eyes. Her skin is ash-pale and she seems hunched in on herself. With your appearance she stops a single step into the common room with a bunch of even-rougher-looking thugs backed up behind her. "J-james?" Tears prickle her eyes, "I'm so sorry, but I gotta take you to master." Even as she looks about to cry, her body rears back and throws a punch at your face.

Which you catch.

A crimson shield covers the doorway to block the rest of the goons from coming in as you catch Karen's other hand. You know Crystal's defense is weak as hell compared to her offense, so even as you wrestle the tired-looking girl into complacency you move the both of you out of the way of minion 1 shoulder-checking the shield.

And failing to break it.

You share an incredulous look with Crystal before the second hit breaks her shield and she immediately puts another one up. Come to think of it, you've manhandled Karen pretty easily, like she's a toddler trying to fight you. You even manage to grab both of her hands in one of yours and turn her face to look in to yours long enough to browse her mind.

It appears that her 'master'—some edgy guy in a spiked leather jacket and Guy Fawkes mask, of all things—has enslaved a number of people, drawing something out of them and forcing them to obey his will. Unfortunately whatever has been drawn out of them seems to have made them weaker and less-coordinated, at least in Karen's case.

So this new cape, who you dub 'Mook-maker' in your head, had sent Karen out with this group of, well, mooks, to take Sarah because she was associated with the Nu Tau sorority, and more especially because of her big sister. That seems… ridiculously bitchy and revenge-laden.

The 'control' is clumsy as hell, with some kind of goo in the brain that blocks physical movements that go against the master's directions and jolts of pleasure/pain to act as a reinforcement/punishment system. There's something else that seems to be draining… something. Vitality? Fucking orgone energy? You don't know how space-whale mind control works other than really ham-handedly in this case.

You could break it and you're pretty sure that Mook-maker wouldn't know the difference between 'rescued' and 'dead', but either might warn him too early. You hold off for the moment, but it's an option you can take at any time.

You pull the location of 'master's last known location out of her head—a large groundskeeping storage shed that had been damaged in the Merchant rampage a couple of weeks earlier—and the knowledge that he had more minions that were dispatched to abduct other people from Karen's defenseless head in moments. She doesn't know more about him other than the fact that he's being followed by three girls in chains and gags that no-one is to acknowledge.

Crystal has refreshed her shield a couple of times and the male mooks seem to be single-minded on getting through. Karen's roughly as weak as a kitten, so….

"Savanna? Put Amy on speaker and c'mere."

The blonde hurries over to your side and Crystal walks over as well, still keeping an eye on the door and putting up a new shield as needed. You glance down to see the call's connected. "Amy, it's James, Crystal's here too."

"Karen's mastered? What's going on?"

"Whoa now, slow down. They're like weak zombies or something. I'm holding both of Karen's hands in my own and she's harmless, and Crystal's shield is holding the rest off. So—"

"Wait, seriously, Crystal's shield is useful?"

"Amy!"

"So don't cancel any backup you've called, but let's tell them to not to come in guns blazing, yeah?"

There's noise in the background as Amy is obviously talking to one of the Pelhams. While she's busy you turn to the southern blonde. "Savanna, take my belt off."

Even Karen pauses at that, but you continue, "And we'll use it to bind Karen's arms against her sides so I'm not stuck holding her."

There's a chorus of 'Oh' from all sides, including the phone before Amy interjects. "I managed to tell Aunt Sarah in time. She and Eric are on the way, Uncle Neil and I will be behind in the car." There's faint noises of running up and down stairs and doors slamming to tell you exactly what they're doing. "Hang tight, we're on our way."

Even with Karen struggling against you, Savannah and Susan manage to cinch your belt around the redhead's waist and forearms, giving her no leverage to escape. You have to use a sticking spell to keep your pants up, but otherwise it's not too bad. "Sooo…