Selpharia

It’s a Games Workshop miniature, but I painted and did a bit of modifying her myself

Hi everyone! Good news, I finally finished the other project I’ve been working on this month, so I can get back to writing. But I thought I’d share what I’ve been working on, a painted miniature version of Uto, Devourer of Corruption, and now source of Kimmy Schaeffer’s sorcerous power, seen in from Interlude 3. This isn’t quite the same outfit Kimmy saw her in, it’s her purple robe and armor for special occasions and battles with heroes. The wings are, of course, an enchantment New chapter soon!

You're quite welcome. Don't get used to it, though

Ah! Yes, I thought I’d fixed that one! At any rate, I have now Thank you! Also, the language there isn’t the Voidwalker language, it’s something else : D

Hello everyone! Apologies for the lateness of this, I've been working on a few other writing-related projects that slowed its production, and I wanted it to be as good as possible because it's a super important chapter. Two notes for this one: First, Val gets an interesting feature in this chapter, an inspiration from a story written by my wonderful editor, some derivative of which might be coming as my next piece after this. Second, what appears to be nonsense might just conceal secret meaning. Third, comments and questions are welcome as always. Enjoy! Chapter 2: Moonlit Echoes That night, Bridget's dreams were strange. She found herself on a bridge constructed of hard light, a monochrome arch, that bent off into the starry distance, so bright that she had to shield her eyes with her hand while sh staggered forward to keep its sharp luminescence from stabbing her eyes. As she dashed forward, she splayed her fingers just a bit to peek through. Through the tiny gap, she saw a figure standing at the summit of the arch, so far away that it was barely a speck. It turned toward her, and despite the distance between them, she heard it speak to her as easily as if she was standing a few paces away. But the words were all nonsense, distorted and warbly as though they were being spoken through the water. Emdo todan hatowt fenpo fuildell danteh skahu themorg, kind meht pebeas / fotinsel foi arvsintibo uyoru vies rens hat toteth loomnight. A grimace of concentration crossed Bridget's face: she could swear there were words in there somewhere. She felt like this woman, or creature or whatever was trying to tell her something incredibly important, but it was useless. Her heart began to beat faster. “I'm sorry, what did you say?” Bridget responded quizzically. Huh, reahem untacoy? Bridget said nothing, and cocked her head quizzically. Maybe she was just spoiled by being able to understand Val perfectly, but she couldn't make any sense of any part of that. Yaw, with meton tenlist wothis risking! The voice sounded distressed, but it was growing softer, as its owner flickered in and out of existence. Hograt, woneth sicone cenntio? The voice was suddenly cut off. More worrisome though, the arc bridge in front of her began to dim, unbinding into pale, wispy tendrils of nebular gas that faded into darkness with a hiss. For a moment, Bridget stood, transfixed, and then she realized that the outer edge of the darkness was moving swiftly in her direction, like the fuse of an old explosive, threatening to plunge her into the emptiness of space. Bridget turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could. If she'd had the presence of mind or time to contemplate, she might have realized that Val's power of flight could have saved her. But as is so often the case in dreams, the only solution she could see was also the least effective one. She turned and ran. But, the bright ground beneath her faded before she'd made it a hundred paces. The endless cosmic night yawned beneath her. She closed her eyes and screamed, the sound echoing impossibly though the airless void as she fell and fell and fell. <<Wake up, little one.>> Bridget's eyes snapped open. She woke in her own room, or what might have been her own room once, when she was much younger. The glowing stars that decorated her ceiling were gone, and the walls were a surprisingly cutesy lilac instead of the usual dark blue. Gabrielle the Unicorn was still in her place of pride on the pillow next to Bridget, but she had many other stuffed animals she hadn't seen in years: a pink bunny whose body doubled as a blanket, a soft brown bear with a heart on its chest, and a tiny green dragon with its lizard-like tongue sticking out, and so many others were piled up on the magenta comforter that someone had wrapped around her. Everything around her was soft, even her moon and cloud-pattern onesie was well-padded beneath. A vague shiver of horror ran down Bridget's spine at the thought, but she dismissed it easily; there were more important things to think about. Most of all though, she found herself transfixed by the sheer size of it all. It was definitely the same room, but everything was almost twice as big. Bridget's full-size bed might has well have been a soft boat floating on a sea of purple carpet. Bridget tossed off the covers with a crinkly rustle and crawled to the foot of the bed, peering with mingled excitement and nervousness down at the ground that was so much farther away than it should have been. In other circumstances, she would have tried to get down as carefully as possible, but even her smallest movements made big bounces in her giant mattress, and an absurdly reckless part of her brain wanted to see if she could do a bouncing jump instead. The carpet looked very plush, so it would probably be fine. Besides, Val would always be there to help her catch herself. Gabrielle went under Bridget's left arm, because she knew that there was no way the adventurous unicorn would want to miss out on such a daring feat. Bridget performed a few test bounces just to be sure, and then she made her big giant leap. A giggle burst from Bridget's lips as she the rush of launch. She splayed her hands, letting Gabby fall, so that she could land like a cat. But she dropped faster than she expected and the ground rushed up to meet her before she could brace for impact. <<Careful, there, princess. I'm glad that you want to fly so much, but we talked about how you have to wait for one of us to watch you, didn't we?>> Just as she's predicted, Voidwalker power encased her in a bubble, leaving her floating a scant inch from the carpet. But unlike every other tine Val spoke, her psychic voice didn't come from within Bridget's own head, but instead from just outside her door. Momentarily confused, Bridget looked for the source of the sound. Sure enough, Val was in the doorway, wearing her usual purple blouse over her favorite black dress and matching black flats as she floated above the floor. She beckoned gently with her outstretched index finger, and floated her little charge over to her, until Bridget was securely nestled in her arms. A half-formed thought ran through Bridget's mind – Val shouldn't even have a body, and especially not a humanoid one. Sure the purple-tinged skin and the outfit matched Val's usual color palette, but still, the Val she knew would have conniptions if she were stuck with a physical form and all of the attendant infirmities she so loathed. But Bridget's dreaming mind asserted itself again, and she knew without question that this had to be Val. And the most important thing in that moment was that space-mommy was unhappy. The realization that she must be the cause of that unhappiness was an avalanche in Bridget's now-little heart. She buried her face in Val's blouse, hiding her quivering lip. For a moment, Val said nothing, surprised by her little one's sudden change in mood. <<What- oh. Stars take me, I should have listened to Echo. She told me about how variance in human sleep cycles could affect mood,>> Val chided herself. <<It's all right, sweetie, I'm not angry.>> Val planted a kiss on the top of Bridget's head that made her scalp tickle. As the Voidwalker bent her head down, a sweep of her shoulder-length black hair brushed against Bridget's neck, and made her look up. When she did, she forgot all about how upset she was. Val's hair had looked black from a distance, but close up, it was full of far off stars, as though each strand were a tiny sliver of a window through which she could view the universe. The image shifted as Val's hair swayed with her floating steps, revealing and occluding stars, planets and galaxies as she moved. The display was entrancing, and Bridget grabbed excitedly at a lock of Val's hair to get a better view. Val grimaced at the sudden tug. <<Don->> she began, but immediately thought better of finishing her reprimand and facing the ensuing tears. <<Hey there, Bridget! Did mean old mommy Cadenza wake you up from your nap?>> The voice echoed like Val's did, but higher and more chipper. As its owner rounded the corner that led to the kitchen, Bridget saw that she was about a head shorter than Val, and her skin looked much more like Bridget's. Her soft pixie cut seemed almost to be composed of swirling pink nebular gas. <<She was already awake by the time I got here, I'll have you know,>> Val protested. <<A likely story. You probably woke her up just so she could do more training, even after I had to read her three stories before she finally closed her eyes.>> The woman's tone was stern, and she had her hands on her hips as she floated up to look Val in the eye, but a smile tugged at the corners of her theatrical frown. <<I have no idea what you're talking about,>> Val replied. <<But if it perturbs you so, you can have story duty again tonight.>> <<Deal! But no making her cry, and no flying outside the playpen for little humans. And no, little one,>> she cooed, looking down at Bridget. <<no matter how cute those rounded fat deposits framing your jaw are, there's no changing my mind.>> <<Of course, Echo darling,>> Val said, with mock irritation and a playful smirk. Bridget looked up at Val quizzically. <<Sorry, little one. You heard the lady.>> Val gave her another kiss on the forehead, and released her like a bird from her grasp, floating her toward the playpen, as she called it. The contraption resembled the gravitational alteration field that Bridget and Val used for practice, except that Voidwalker outside of dreams didn't generally decorate the pylons at the field's corners with unicorn motifs. Once she'd been plopped down inside the energy field of the futuristic playpen, she wiggled around a bit to watch Val and Echo. But it was quickly apparent that even her best puppy-dog eyes wouldn't get her any attention. Echo was clearly telling Val some really awesome secrets, her lips were right up against Val's ear, and every few moments, Val would let out a gasp of what must have been surprise. After a little while, Echo just lay her cloudy pink hair right up against the base of Val's neck, and then it was Val's turn to whisper secrets. Strain as she might, though, Bridget couldn't hear anything fun, so she turned to look at the toys piled up within the confines of the violet energy field. She dug through a few stuffed animals before her eyes lighted on an interesting little device, which she eagerly pulled out from beneath the soft blocks where it had been hidden. This toy looked vaguely familiar to her; it had five little hatches, each a different color, red, green, blue, yellow, and purple. In front of each hatch was a button in the same color, but each button was also a different shape: a red triangle, a blue square, a green circle, a yellow star, and a purple moon. Bridget pressed the red triangle, expecting the red hatch to open, but instead, a tinny voice, irrepressibly cheerful came from the machine. “Find the life energy!” A look of surprise crossed Bridget's face; this definitely wasn't how this toy usually worked. But she remembered how Val had shown her to detect the different types of energy around her. So she closed her eyes and concentrated, putting her hands over her eyes, playing a game of solitaire peek-a-boo. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes and looked down at herself, her body glowed a faint, familiar green. That toy in front of her, meanwhile, gave off five different colors. The red hatch pulsed and flickered like a flame; it housed heat energy. Within the blue hatch was what looked like a ghostly circuit board, it took Bridget a moment to realize that she was watching the flow of electrons from the blue hatch to the rest of the machine. The green hatch glowed the same color as Bridget's body, while the yellow and purple hatches concealed bits of the familiar signature of star warden and Voidwalker energy. She hit the green button, and giggled happily when the machine beeped a tinny little tune of congratulation. Of course it would work like that. Color coded for our convenience. The strange thought flitted wryly through Bridget's head, before it was totally subsumed by the pride she felt at having gotten such a difficult question right. Bridget turned and toddled excitedly toward Val and Echo, hoping to get some well-deserved praise. But when she looked at them sitting on the nearby sofa, instead of their humanoid forms, she saw their silhouettes, all bright star warden energy, but shot through with veins of Voidwalker violet, as though they were statues made of luminous marble. Doing her best not to cry out of sheer surprise, Bridget rubbed her eyes again to restore her normal human vision, and, in a moment, Val and Echo were back to normal. Which of course, meant that Bridget had very important news to deliver. “I did it!” she said happily, looking hopefully up at Echo, and pointing proudly back to the little toy. <<Good job, sweetie!>> Echo said kindly, <<I'm sure you'll be sensing every kind of energy in the galaxy in no time!>> Bridget excitedly nodded her assent. <<Certainly, with a good deal of practice.>> Val's voice was impassive, but she leaned down and kissed Bridget on the head just the same. <<Bridget, tell mommy Val not to be such a curmudgeon,>> Echo replied. “Yeah mommy, don' be a mudgin!” Bridget dutifully relayed Echo's request to Val, whose face formed an exaggerated frown, even as Echo bust into giggles at hearing her own insult repeated in Bridget's childish lisp. <<Truly, you two surpass the entire galaxy for sophisticated humor.>> Echo merely stuck out her tongue in response, and Bridget eagerly followed suit, realizing that if mommy Echo was doing it, she certainly wasn't going to get a time-out if she did it too. <<Remember, my dear Cadenza, there are other ways to learn besides through rigorous practice. Sometimes play is an easier method.>> <Oh, very well,>> Val relented. <<Get up here, little one.>> Val smiled, and reached through the field to gather Bridget into her arms. <<Get up, little one.>> <<Up>> <<It's time to get up.>> Val's voice resounded through her head, and Bridget's eyes slowly opened. Her room had returned to its usual hue, and all that remained of the horde of plushies was Gabby the Unicorn perched on her pillow. “All right, all right, I'm up!” Bridget mumbled, shaking off the last foggy remnants of the night's strange dreams <<Very good, little one. We have a whole day of educational opportunities ahead of us.>> Tired as she was, Bridget could only wonder at how Val managed such a perverse degree of enthusiasm so early in the morning. Gee, you never change do you? She thought back grumpily. There are other things in life, you know. <<Why would I alter a perfectly effective methodology? Does that make me a “'mudgin,” princess?>> Bridget flushed beet-red. Wait, you saw all that? Bridget asked, dreading the answer she already knew. <<Of course. Your nightly hallucinations happen in a different part of your brain than I'm used to interacting with, but viewing them is a fairly simple matter. They really are fascinating, you know; an interesting display of what could be if you'd just embrace things and complain a little less about our training regimen.>> ”You mean you could make me a baby. Truly, a thrilling prospect.” Bridget said dryly. << The dreams come from your psyche, not mine. Besides, isn't it more important that you'd have full mastery of our shared powers? It isn't as though you'd be required to wear that cute little outfit when we're on missions.>> “I guess,” Bridget said, unconvinced. A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Hey, wait a minute. If none of the things in my dreams are from you, where did that version of Echo come from?” Val was silent for several long seconds. <<A fair point. You couldn't possibly have formulated such an accurate picture of her personality without input from my memories. Our gestalt is truly odd.>> Bridget finished her morning routine, and endured a breakfast with her mother and sister. This included endless rounds of being peppered with parental questions about whether she had completed all of the assignments from her time out of school. Her mother had, of course, recorded each one meticulously in her day planner, and the list was so long. that Sami got up from the table in the middle of it; she ran out the door with a wave to her mom, and a gruff nod in Bridget's direction. Once that ordeal was finally over, Bridget was able to retreat to her room again. <<More importantly than Echo's verisimilitude,>> Val said, continuing their discussion as though there had been no interruption, <<the inclusion of my thoughts in your nightly visions suggests that there might also be some scientific validity in to the possibility of constructing an ersatz form of hard light that could act on the material world as though it were a physical creature.>> You mean, we could make you a body? <<With significant limitations, but yes.>> That's awesome! Bridget did her best to banish the memories of last night's dream in which Val carried her snuggled tightly in her arms that rose up unbidden, along with recollections of how easy it was to get lost in the swaying of the galaxies in Val's impossible hair. <<Indeed. However, that is a thought for another time. As I recall, tonight is your meeting with that Margot girl.>> Oh, um, yeah, that is today isn't it. Bridget's stomach was instantly one gigantic knot. At least I have a while until then, with mom out of the house all day. <<Precisely. You'll also have a long flight during which you can consider what you might wear, or any other frivolities you wish.>> Val said cheerfully. Right, that's true. Wait- what do you mean a flight? It took a moment for Bridget to register what Val had just said. <<Well, I suspect an active Vector office will be better guarded than an unmanned warehouse, so I don't think we can use the bike again. Besides, we need to put some of your training into practice.>> <<Don't worry, little one,>> Val said, after a few moments of silence from Bridget. <<We're just going to do some intelligence gathering. There's minimal risk of bodily harm.>> Val's self-assured, didactic manner could make almost anything seem safe and reasonable, but in this particular instance, even she couldn't quite quell Bridget's fear. Still, there was no denying that they had to do something, and this was the best lead they had. Bridget didn't trust herself to say anything that wouldn't sound like a fearful child trying to squirm out of getting a shot, so she stayed silent as she grabbed her coat from off the doorknob and slung it over her shoulder.

I’m glad! Hopefully it was less jarring than the last time skip. It’s definitely taking its toll on Bridget, keeping silent like she is. New chapter should be up soon!

I’m glad you enjoyed it!

Oh also, Ellie, it’s interesting you mention the idea of Val being entirely imagined. The idea for this scene was one of the earliest that came to me, when I was thinking about having Val be more questionably real. Ultimately, it didn’t match the tone I wanted, and I don’t generally like stories with that sort of premise, so I nixed it in favor of this version. But I felt like this made a decent catch-up chapter for all the time away, and I wanted to remind everyone that Bridget still has a normal life to try to lead, even though she has to also fight very extraordinary threats.

Well, we haven’t seen Sami yet since the event. Violet was only mentioned once, so it’s understandable not to remember. Daniel is new, he’s not Bridget’s friend or anything, they just happen to have adjacent appointment time. We’ll get to why Bridget, Sami, and Stell got their powers in this issue

And here we are, finally starting Issue 3, which I have a sneaking suspicion will be the longest Issue in the whole series. hankss again to everyone reading, and especially to everyone commenting, it's wonderful motivation to keep going and improving. Issue 3, Chapter 1: Coming Home Everything about Dr. Lee's waiting room seemed designed to grind Bridget down. The lights were a dim yellow that might have been calming in other circumstances, but just emphasized to Bridget that she was sealed off from the outside world, with no physical company other than her mother. Violet Winston was making a show of being engrossed in an out-of date lifestyle magazine article, but it didn't take Phoebe-level perception to notice the unsubtle glances she kept sending Bridget's way. It's like she thinks I'll break if she looks away for too long, Bridget thought bitterly. Or maybe she's more worried that I'll explode. The thick carpeting muffled the sound her foot made as she kicked idly at it, but her mother's mouth formed into a thin red line of unmistakable annoyance. Bridget stopped, and inspected the carpet to avoid her mother's reproachful gaze. The carpet was a dull brown, and had clearly just been cleaned, judging from the acrid smell that wafted up from it. That awful odor was poorly masked by a pungent cinnamon scent so repulsive that it ought to have been classified as a chemical weapon. <<The human sense of smell is so utterly useless, it's a travesty. Anything you smell is either distractingly awful, or excessively enticing, and if neither is true, then it's providing no meaningful data,>> Val groused. Sorry we're not optimized to your liking, space-mommy. Bridget would normally have grumbled at Val's complaining, but her passenger had lent an unusually sympathetic ear to Bridget's unhappiness over the events of the last few days, so she couldn't really object to Val getting a turn. She was a source of solace during the doctors' poking and prodding, during their night spent beneath heartlessly hygienic hospital lighting. But she was also an endless reserve of complaints about the irritation of upkeep on a physical body, to the point where Bridget wondered if Val did it just to have something to talk about with her. Still, it wasn't like she was wrong, and Bridget would take the kvetching over silence any day. Val? The fearful primate part of Bridget's brain ran wild in the second it took for Val to answer. It wasn't that she had been silent for a long time, or really any time at all, but her brain built a momentary silence into a mountain of potential catastrophe faster than thoughts could cross the mental bridge that connected the two of them. <<Yes, little one?>> came Val's reply, bringing with it a wave of relief. Oh, nothing really, Bridget thought, realizing belatedly that she couldn't think of anything to say. I just, well... she trailed off awkwardly. She knew vaguely what she was trying to say, but the words were like Play-doh: she knew they could be formed into the shape she wanted, but when she actually tried to make something out of them, the end result was just a sloppy, disjointed mess. <<I see,>> Val said, making it plain that she most definitely did not. Um, could we maybe...do some more flying practice later? <<Certainly, sweetie,>> Val said, in a cheery tone that for her might as well have been full-blown elation. <<And don't worry, I'll be sure to keep you within the proper boundaries during practice. You've improved greatly, but it seems like you still need some guidance on occasion.>> Okay. It was so hard to complain when Val laid things out so analytically; her confidence in her own processes and conclusions was contagious, and only made more so by their empathic link. <<What an assiduous little worker you are,>> Val cooed, as Bridget flushed a little at the praise. <<Once we're finished with this so-called doctor's futile attempt to comprehend something that exceeds his feeble understanding, we'll get to it. But if his atomic model is any indication, we have a long hour of utter failure to endure.>> Atomic model? Bridget looked around, trying to figure out what Val was referring to. <<That,>> Val said, as Bridget's gaze fell on a plastic contraption on a miniature table near the far wall, perched next to a stack of Highlights! Magazines. Oh! That's, well, it's not an atomic model. It's a children's' toy for the younger kids who come here. You slide the different shapes of wooden blocks along the rail. But I don't think it's got any scientific value. Bridget said, trying to suppress a snort of laughter at Val's ensuing harrumph. “Bridget?” Her mother tried to keep her tone neutral when the noise of her daughter's stifled chuckle roused her from contemplating what was no doubt a thrilling treatise on the relative merits of eggshell and mauve drapes in a dining room. But Bridget didn't miss the way her eyes widened a little, and how her voice quivered as she voiced the question. “Are you all right?” For a scant second, all the myriad way in which the answer to that question was “no” rushed to the tip of Bridget's tongue. Accounts of all the things that kept her mind whirring from the mundane worries piled on top of one another: her parents endless gushing over Sami and her bright future, Margot's uncharacteristic niceness, the way she felt like an alien around pretty much everyone except Maya; to the impossible: that she actually kind of was an alien now, how close she's come to being murdered by Val's enemies, Val herself and everything utterly unbelievable that had flowed from that. She even almost said something about the totally embarrassing warmth she felt when Val taught her something impossible or doted on her in her own alien way, or how a single word of praise from the Voidwalker could send Bridget soaring over the moon. But all those things just piled up and got in each other's way; the words that actually left her lips were “Yeah. I'm fine.” “All right, dear. Just asking because I love you, you know.” Bridget wasn't really sure what to say in response. It wasn't that she didn't love her mom, but it was hard to find a response that wasn't a surrender; it felt like her mom had cast her for a role in a stilted play that she wasn't sure she wanted to be in. For an alien species that didn't seem to have sight as humans understood it, Val demonstrated a stellar example of a mental eye-roll in response to Violet's question. However, Bridget was saved deciding how to respond by the sudden opening of the white office door. A diminutive teenage boy, a few years younger than Bridget and a few inches shorter, nodded his head toward her in greeting as he rushed out of Dr. Lee's treatment room. He had a mop of bright blue hair, and a pair of node rings on his left nostril, and wore a pair of distressed jeans that matched his similarly well-used vest. Bridget's mother took half a step back as he approached, and her nose noticeably wrinkled despite her attempts to maintain the bland agreeableness she'd honed so well in the PTA. Bridget gave the boy a mumbled “Hey Daniel,” and received a grunt and half a wave in return. Bridget's mother clicked her tongue and sighed of relief once the unwelcome sight of Daniel was occluded from her view when the outer office door closed behind him. But by the time she turned to inform Bridget of her feelings about that miscreant and his evident woeful disregard for his future, Bridget had already escaped into the session room where Dr. Lee was waiting. Before he got halfway through his usual soft-voiced greeting, she'd thrown off her purple cardigan and sat down in the over-sized grey patient's chair. Usually, it felt like whoever designed the thing had somehow replicated quicksand through the medium of cushions, but today, their immense softness was a barricade. “Oh!” Her mother's voice came from outside. “Right, I'll be back in about an hour to pick you up. Will you be okay waiting here until then?” “Yes moooom!” she called back, annoyed. “Don't worry about it, Mrs. Winston,” Dr. Lee said, his voice polite but firm in a way that calmly shut down any further attempts at conversation. He shut the door, and turned back to Bridget. “Now then. Shall we begin with the usual meditation, or do you know what you want us to talk about today?” “Oh, um, that's fine, I guess.” Bridget tried to follow Dr. Lee's instructions, to slow her breathing and be mindful of her surroundings. But instead of becoming more present in the moment, when she closed her eyes, she found herself drawn into the familiar warmth of the purple void. Bridget knew this wasn't quite what she was supposed to be doing, but it was pleasant and relaxing, which, she supposed, was close enough to what the meditation was intended to do that it probably technically counted. She hadn't done any of her customary practice with Val since she ended up in the hospital, and coming back to find this mental place the same way she left it was like coming home after a long and arduous journey and enjoying a long soak in a hot bath. Oh, thank god you still- I mean, I was kind of worried after, well... <<I know, little one, I was...wholly unprepared for Quantum Sonata to be as strong as she was. When she overrode our link from so great a distance, I realized the magnitude of my error. You did some quick thinking under trying conditions though. Quite impressive.>> Bridget felt her cheeks flush. Oh, well, I kind of totally ruined everything in the process though. <<I'm certain we can manage. If you need more time before we talk about our next step, however, I understand.>> Bridget was very fortunate that Dr. Lee was focused on leading their meditation, and his eyes were firmly closed, because she was wide-eyed and open mouthed at Val's sudden gentleness. Val not wanting to push as hard as she could was like Sami sitting back with a soda in hand and just watching a bank robbery happen. Are...are you sure? she asked incredulously. <<Yes. Given the strategic error that led to the previous incident, it's the least... or well, at least a reasonable compromise. Especially given that that you'd very likely reject the far safer option, as usual.>> Of course I would, there's no way I'd just run off to space after getting this far! We can get right back to missions whenever you want, Bridget replied, putting as much bravado into her declaration as she could muster. She tried not to listen to the cowardly primate part of her brain that saw nothing wrong with putting a few million miles of distance between her and the monster who had almost killed her with a thought. <<Of course you wouldn't little one,>> Val said, with a wry psychic smile sent across their link. <<But are you sure you're not putting on just a little bit of a show to convince me how tough you are?>> Bridget coughed suddenly, and the sound ripped the contemplative quiet of her meditation to tatters. Dammit, Val! “Don't worry about it, Bridget,” Dr. Lee said, mistaking the reason for Bridget's visible discomfort. “The meditation is only intended as a focusing tool. But it seems like you already have some idea of what you want to talk about, and that's fine too.” “Well, it's kind of been a lot, but...” She proceeded to tell Dr. Lee the parts she could about the last few days, how she felt like she was always treated either as an annoying pest that had the nerve to interrupt the important things that other people were doing, or like a glass sculpture that had to be securely locked away for its own safety. She thought she made a pretty coherent account of it, considering she had to paper over why exactly she'd interrupted the Stalwart Six's big moment, just as she had with the doctors at the hospital. “I see, “Dr. Lee said when she finally finished, running a hand through his short-cropped grey hair. “Well, that must have been very hard for you.” He certainly has a gift for stating the obvious, Bridget thought. <<Indeed. Whereas you, little one, possess a talent for avoiding answering questions.>> Look you... Bridget began grumpily, but her search for a truly cutting reply came up empty. Bridget tightened her lips into a grimace, but made sure to nod along as Dr. Lee reviewed the same old strategies for managing her stress. Getting time alone, doing things she enjoyed, trying to remember that her parents obviously loved her and were trying their best. <<I note that you still haven't told me what you're really worried about, little one. Our link works both ways, you know.>> Ugh, I don't want to talk about it, okay? Why can't you just be happy that I want to do what you want? Val attempted more pressing and cajoling, but she pointedly ignored her. “Does that make sense, Bridget?” Dr. Lee had evidently made some useless suggestion or other while Bridget was distracted by her insufferable passenger. “What? Oh, um, sure.” she stammered, trying to think of what he would likely have suggested. Probably the same old claptrap about having the wisdom to accept what you can't change. What a pitiful old coward, Bridget thought. But as soon as the invective formeed in her head, a memory bubbled up unbidden. <<Pitiful>> <<Pitiful>> <<Pitiful.>> The Warmistress, declaring her oncoming death with the exact same words of condemnation. Even in memory, Quantum Sonata's voice echoed ceaselessly, filling her mind with a tidal wave of sound that drowned out the world around her. Val's comforting voice was gone, replaced by cold, dead silence. Bridget shut her eyes and shook her head, trying desperately to find solid mental ground to stand on. Then as swiftly as it had gone, the world returned. <<Little one?>> “Bridget?” Dr. Lee asked, concerned. With a jolt, Bridget found herself in the present. She was panting, and her palms were slick with sweat, her knuckles white as they gripped the arms of her chair. “Oh, sorry. It's just been a rough day.” “I understand. Remember to take care of yourself, alright? Once you're feeling better, see about signing up for that St. Rose's summer program visit day. I really think it'll help to remind you that you're quite impressive yourself. See you in two weeks?” Without answering Bridget rushed out the door into the cold air outside. She stared intently at her phone, scrolling through any mindless content she could find, doing her best to think about nothing at all, and especially not about the fact that she'd apparently just agreed to do something that got her exactly the last thing she wanted: more time near her unbearably-golden elder sister, next to whom she was less than a shadow. She stood in the cold wind outside, alternately cursing herself for being stupid, and casting about for anything else to think about that wasn't the memory that sent her fleeing from Dr. Lee's office in the first place. When her mother finally returned to pick her up a few minutes later, she climbed in the back, just so she didn't have to look her in the face. It didn't even bother her when her mother went in “to schedule the next appointment,” her usual code word for wheedling a summary of what had happened in session from Dr. Lee. Bridget mostly ignored her mother's chatter about some new important assignment Sami had been given as part of the Stalwart Six without even her customary eye roll, and dashed upstairs as soon as they got home. Throughout the hours that followed, Bridget did her best to distract herself with some combination of games, twiddling on the web, and, when she got really desperate, chipping away at the slowly piling-up mountain of homework that Maya had brought the second day she'd been absent from school. Throughout it all, Val was uncharacteristically silent. Finally, long after the sun had sunk and the moon had risen outside her bedroom window, she mentally mumbled a query at her passenger. Val? <<Yes, sweetie?>> If Val was annoyed at being dismissed and ignored for so long, she didn't show it. Can we do flying practice now? <<Absolutely.>> Bridget used the ring to enter Val's interdimensional lab. She made her way through the many piles of equipment using a path she'd cleared out. Val hadn't seen the point, since they could simply walk or float over and around it, but some little piece of her mother in Bridget had refused to let such a mess stand. As a result, there was an easily walkable path to the power switch. When she turned it on, a hum filled the air, and the violet field enveloped her. For a while, she just enjoyed the peace of floating freely within the field, keeping herself in that purple void that brought her together with Val. After she'd done a few 3-D laps, Val issued her a challenge. <<Okay, little one. How many loops do you think you can do?>> “Um, maybe three? They make me kinda dizzy.” It was nice to be able to talk to Val with her own voice, without worrying that other people would hear. It made Val feel closer and more real, and was one of the best things about the lab, even better than flight. <<I don't know, princess, I expect you'll manage two at most.>> Bridget was almost offended, but she heard the gentleness behind the teasing in Val's voice. “Pfft, watch me!” she boasted, and streaked upward. Once she was a few inches from the ceiling, she began a steep dive, closing her eyes to shut out the image of how far away the ground was. She curled herself around to start a loop, and felt blood rush to her head as she climbed into her first revolution. This was always her least favorite maneuver, it made her stomach flip, flop, and heave. But she wasn't about to give up, so she gritted her teeth and held tightly to her concentration, refusing to let her body break her will. She managed a second loop, but as she did, her stomach rebelled. Bridget felt the force keeping her on her trajectory waver; it took all of her effort just to stop herself from losing her lunch. <<Don't worry, little one. Keep going, and I'll help you.>> A renewed wave of warmth ran through Bridget, overwhelming her nausea, and she felt a force keeping her on her path through the air, guiding her like firm, sure hands. Bridget couldn't help but laugh as she finished her third loop, feeling the thrill of victory as her hair whipped into her face. <<You did it! Well, you certainly showed me, didn't you>> Val congratulated her. “Hehe. Yeah, I did!” Bridget knew it was childish to feel so giddy after winning such a silly bet, but she couldn't avoid getting caught up in the moment. “But that was just because you helped me.” <<Of course. I'll always be there to help you. It's my role to make sure you learn what you need.>> “You're not going to disappear again?” Bridget's voice quavered as she asked the question. <<Was that what you were worried about before, sweetie?>> Bridget blushed a little and nodded. realizing in that moment how futile it was to try to hide anything from Val. She was so old, and so smart, and could understand so much just from their psychic connection. The Voidwalker really was on a whole different level of being. <<Don't worry. One day, you'll learn much of what I know, and learn to use our powers as well as any attuned in the whole cosmos.>> Oh, come on. As much as Bridget believed in Val's incredible abilities, she was laying it on a bit thick. <<I am quite serious, little one. Have I ever misled you?>> I guess not. <<Exactly. I swear on my title as Chief Science Officer that the next time we face Warmistress Sonata, we'll have a plan to take her apart, and she can try all she wants, but I'll never you fall into her grip again.>> Okay, space-mommy <<Whenever you're ready, I'll tell you the first part of my plan.>> Sure, but I should probably shower first. I haven't gotten one in since I came back from the hospital, and winning bets with you is gross, sweaty work. Bridget hummed a little song to herself all through her evening ablutions. So improved was her mood that she barely even noticed when she used her mom's shampoo instead of her own, until she smelled the mint scent that usually wafted after her mother when she ran down the stairs in the morning. “Ugh, dammit, I smell like an old lady.” <<Well, now do you see what I mean about how useless human smell is? Regardless of what you smell like, you're exactly the opposite of old, princess.>> Bridget held her face in her face in her hands in embarrassment, but couldn't quite muster the will to tell Val off.

This is as cute and gay as i have come to expect from you two Excellent as usual

You all are making me blush :3. I’m definitely not a pro writer, but if Universal Basic Income were a thing, I’d try it. I’ll also be trying to pick up the pace of production on C^3 a bit going forward.

Thank you both so much, my day is doubly made today! Little Lamb, I’m very grateful for your loyal readership! And paws, City of Heroes was one of my favorite games, and a big influence on this story. On my old laptop, I even had versions of some of the characters in the CoH character creator

I’m glad you enjoyed it! Issue 3, Chapter 1 is in the works now

I’m glad you liked it! Kimmy’s chapter was notionally planned ever since her introduction, though bbykimmy did have some input into the character’s disposition and powerset. Although now that you mention, the chapter has some classic bbykimmy elements, and I’m very glad she’s back

Here, finally, thanks to the encouragement of Sophie and Pudding, and the invaluable assistance of my amazing editor, is Interlude 3! This is the last interlude before Issue 3, and I'm very excited to get back to the main plot! A Note: This chapter is *much* darker than usual, and contains emotional manipulation and an detailed discussion of suicide. While I hope you enjoy it regardless, it is absolutely fine to skip it if that's going to be painful or triggering. It's something I have personal experience with, and would absolutely never wish for anyone. As always, comments and questions are the best. Interlude 3- That She May Devour At first, there was nothing but the cold of the silver snake's metal gullet, and the unyielding dark within. There was nothing, therefore, to distract from the searing indignity of her recent defeat. Her eyes narrowed as the image of the face of that impudent child who had dared stand in her way floated before her. Then, right as she was considering what terribly inventive torment she would visit on this girl for having the temerity to oppose Kimmy Schaeffer, Consulting Demonologist, the sinuous slide abruptly ended. As she sailed out the mouth of the slide, styled like a silver serpent's head, bright green flames flared to life, burning like hungry eyes in a pair of braziers on a far wall. By the time her head cleared enough to register what had happened, she barely managed to extend her staff and spit out a brief incantation to slow her speed, before her momentum would have sent her straight into the wall. Still, her landing couldn't be called graceful; she staggered forward with the impact, and fell to her knees hissing in pain, right in front of the silver filigreed hieroglyphics that danced uncaring in the torchlight. “Damn it!” Kimmy whispered under her breath. She used her staff as a support, and found a handhold in the hieroglyphics to pull herself to her feet. When she rose up to her full height, she suddenly realized that her full height was much less full than she had expected. Her head was usually just below the torches, but she was barely half as tall as that now, face to face with a hieroglyph of a jackal that she usually would have had to stoop to read. Kimmy shook her head, trying to clear it. But when she did, she felt the familiar brush of pigtails against the side of her neck. She let out a sharp sigh; normally she'd be quite content to stay in her childish form for a while after a mission, but right now, feeling smaller than she already did was the last thing she wanted. She struck the ground with her staff, willing its power to rush forth and withdraw the glamour from her. But when the green flame receded, the room still loomed enormous around her. With a grimace and a hiss, she grabbed her staff with both hands, and rammed it into the floor. The sudden flare of light stung her eyes, and dark blobs danced in her vision for a few moments after the spell completed. Nevertheless, despite the outpouring of magical energy, her form was unchanged. “Stupid staff,” she exclaimed, hurling the offending implement against the wall and stomping the floor in irritation. “Of all the times for you to f-” “Such a dirty mouth, little sorceress. What would the Mother Goddess think” Kimmy jumped a little at the sound of the voice that filled the gloomy chamber. It was deep, and loud enough to make her whole body vibrate, and the sibilant sound of it coiled around her. She took a reflexive step backward, and gasped when she felt a pair of arms close around her waist, and lift her a full two feet from the ground. Kimmy let out a yelp of surprise, and thrashed as hard as she could. She kicked her feet and flailed her arms, but to no avail. “Ah ah ah, don't squirm, wiggle worm. Resistance will just make it worse.” Kimmy tried to crane her neck to see the identity of her assailant, but the face above her was unfamiliar. It was copper-skinned, with all sharp angles, and muscle rippling in all the wrong places where fat should be on any normal human. When he smiled down at her, even his front teeth looked honed to a razor edge. His shoulder-length black hair darkened his face like a hood. “Who the hell-” she tried ramming the back of her head into his face, but again forgot to account for her reduced size; she groaned as she hit his immovable shoulders. “What, you don't recognize me, even after what your stupidity put me through? You really are a child; this should be well within the power of even a stripling mortal mage such as you.” He snorted and yanked her hair back violently, forcing her neck to strain and her eyes to meet his. As she did, his black pupils grew long and slim, until she was starting into the slit eyes of a snake. “You wasted my physical form, using me to cover for your mystical incompetence. Perhaps I should return the favor.” “So what, Apophis? I've been empowered by Lady Uto, and you're just her thrall, at my beck and call. It's not like you can do anything.” Kimmy knew that this was almost certainly not the case, but still, she was Kimmy Schaeffer, Consulting Demonologist, and wasn't about to stand for some snake demon mouthing off to her. “Whatever you've done to my form, release it, and I may be lenient.” “I, a mere thrall? Such talk from one who would be barely a glimmer in their own eye without Lady Uto's gifts. Would you truly wish for me to withdraw all that has been done to you in Uto's name? Then let us begin.” As Apophis spoke, the torches flickered, and a stream of sickly-sweet smoke billowed up from the braziers. Apophis breathed it in as though it was the scent of flowers wafting through the air, but it stung Kimmy's eyes and burned her throat. When her vision cleared, she thought for a moment that she had returned to her full height. It quickly became clear, however, that Apophis had somehow used the smoke to bind her, and she now dangled from the ceiling, as far off the ground as she normally stood. Even though it should have been light enough to brush aside, the smoke held her like thick rope, and she was helplessly trussed up in its coils. Kimmy tried to fight through the burning pain that seared her wrists when she attempted to wriggle free, but she found that she could barely move. Realizing her predicament, she narrowed her eyes at Apophis and fixed him with her best hateful glare. but there was a part of her, below the resentment that welled up in her chest, that felt a shameful thrill at the feeling of being held helpless, a tingling delight that grew with the realization that her struggle was utterly futile. Not that there's anything strange about that of course, she told herself. Merely a mage's proper fascination and hunger for a newly discovered source of power. Apophis reached up and danced his fingers under Kimmy's chin, and smiled a mirthless smile. She instinctively pulled away from the sensation; his hand should have been warm, if ungentle, but it was cold as ice, and eerily smooth. As she tried to squirm away, his hand closed around her throat like an icy vise. “Perhaps, you require a...harsher reminder of the magnitude of our Mother's kindness.” The muscles of her neck strained against his grip, but then, as quickly as he had grabbed her, Apophis released his hold. But where he had held his hand, she felt a bulge in her windpipe that hadn't been there before, but was still horribly familiar. He held her bound hand in his, then kissed it, in an absurd parody of a display of courtly affection. Kimmy shivered as a wave of numbing cold washed over her. When sensation returned to her hand, though, she almost wished it hadn't. She could feel them growing larger and more unwieldy, and felt the itching pinpricks of long-dormant follicles spurred to life again. When the same sensation followed the touch of Apophis's hand and spread like chill wildfire across her face, she screamed, or would have screamed if she'd dared to. Logically, her voice should still be her own, but she couldn't bear the thought that she might hear the low, guttural sound of years of work undone in an instant. Kimmy fought desperately against the chains, twisting and rolling the best she could, now driven more by animal fear and instinct than any kind of rational thought. But the more she strained, the tighter they drew, until her skin burned with their cold. Tears ran down her cheeks, brief and feeble points of heat against the mounting waves of bone-deep cold. Finally, able to endure no longer, Kimmy's head swam, and the darkness behind her eyes replaced the dim and dusty tomb. Kimmy suddenly felt the harshness of bare blacktop beneath her, its thousands of tiny jagged stones biting into her skin. The supernatural frost that she'd felt before was replaced by the all-too-material feeling of waterlogged clothing clinging, sodden, to her flesh. Her chest burned, her cursed chest that she could feel grown flatter, broader, and terribly alien and hopelessly familiar. She knew the heat, of course, the heat of a wound, cut by her own sacrificial dagger, the same knife whose blade she'd spent untold dark hours honing, gazing at its point with a forbidden longing. All these years later, she still remembered the detached euphoria of that first stab, when she finally pushed past that cursed instinct for self-preservation, and inflicted a punishment on the body that had housed her, betrayed her, imprisoned her, for so many years. Finally, she could go of the vain hope of slow rituals that only dulled the pain, and would never grant her the object of her longing. It had felt so good to finally punish the true source of her suffering that she had barely minded the deadly pain, even cherished it, in a twisted sort of way. Or at least she had, before the new life Uto, moved by her sacrifice, had bestowed upon her. Kimmy had always thought she'd rather die than live a lifetime as her old self. She'd even done it once. But the thought of losing her new self, the one she'd always wanted since before she'd had the words to express the longing, spurred her to fight on as she hadn't that day. With a groan of effort, she lifted her head up from the pavement. As she expected, the shadow of a passer-by fell upon the ground as its owner moved toward her, its shape obscured by the dark, save for the outline illuminated by the dim halo of a streetlamp. “Oh, my poor, sweet little Kimmy. How did you get yourself into this, little sweetling?” The voice was soft and maternal, sounding at once loud and strong enough to fill a stadium, and as close and soft as a gentle, loving whisper. Even ensorcelled in a serpent's dream and on the verge of death, Kimmy couldn't mistake the voice of Lady Uto, Devourer of Corruption, Last of the Triumvirate. And sure enough, the figure that stepped -or rather, slithered -up to her was not a teenage Isis, but the Mother Goddess herself. Kimmy's gaze followed the sinuous shape as it approached, taking in the shining black scales laced with silver that caught the light as the goddess moved across the ground, and her pale, blue-green underbelly. From the waist up she was human with skin as black as her serpentine half, save where her white tunic covered it, and gold glinting around her neck and head. Her eyes that looked down on Kimmy with pity were like shining green lamps in the darkness, and her hair undulated with a hiss. An observer might have considered her like the mystical Medusa, but there was no way that any sandal-clad Greek warrior wielding a bit of bronze could ever possibly challenge her. The goddess reached down and gathered up Kimmy in her lithe and muscled arms, as though the full-grown woman was little more than a doll, and nestled her against her chest. It was so soft and warm, that all the fear, terror, and bitterness just fell away, until the sense of closeness with an impossibly strong and wise power was all she could feel. It wasn't enough to say that she felt that nothing and no one could harm her; that was a mortal kind of strength. No, as Kimmy felt Uto's arms embrace her, she knew that no one would even dare to try. “There there, see? All better..” And as Uto said these words, the nightmare of her first death faded from Kimmy's eyes. She was back in the tomb, Apophis still standing in his human form before her as she dangled in his chains. But he was utterly dwarfed by Uto, and seemed faded and shrunken in her presence, as though he had shriveled in the light that shone from her golden headdress. “Now,” she said, her brow furrowed and her tone sharp and reproachful.“Just what, pray tell, is going on here?” She fixed them both with her emerald stare, and it took all of Kimmy's mental fortitude not to look away in shame. Uto's eyes were so bright and searching, it felt like lies told beneath her gaze would vanish like mist in the glow of the morning sun. After meeting Uto for the first time and negotiating the terms of her first job, Kimmy had tried everything she knew to avoid this sensation, the terrible smallness that she felt in the presence of the Mother Goddess. But the second time, when Uto saw all the charms and spells Kimmy had woven around herself, she simply laughed, and told her what an impressive priestess she would make one day. Kimmy hadn't know what to say then, and was no better prepared now, though she consoled herself that at least she hadn't blushed. Apophis spoke up first:“Lady Uto, she is an incorrigible little brat,” he spat, “who shows no gratitude for the new life you have given her, refusing even to give you the fealty you deserve, and wasting the power that belongs to your faithful servants.” He smiled smugly. “I simply wanted to show her that she'd be nothing without you, and remind her of her place.” “I see. I will certainly have a talk with Kimmy about properly using her resources.” Apophis grinned in triumph, and Kimmy's heart sank. Something about the way Uto said the phrase made it more terrifying than the worst possible punishment. “But,” Uto said evenly, “tell me, Apophis, did you ever consider why I have given the gifts that I have?” Apophis's grin turned into a scowl of confusion. “No, milady, I had not, I merely assumed-” “Assumed I was like that foolish feline, giving and withdrawing favor as suited my whim? For one so quick to judge impudence, you might consider your own thoughts more carefully, my servant.” Apophis stepped back, eyes suddenly sepentine and wide with fear, as a flash of terrordisrupted his concentration on his glamour. “How about you, Kimmy? Do you know why I chose to help you?” “B-Because I gave you an offering you liked,” Kimmy replied sullenly. That was what all magic was about, of course: a mercenary exchange. Favor for favor, strength for strength, and nothing more. “Half right, little dear.” Uto cooed. Kimmy wanted to protest that she was neither little nor dear, but one look at Uto's massive scale stopped the words in her mouth. “A body that fails to develop as it should, and drives its inhabitant to kill themself-” Kimmy felt a cold lump in her throat when Uto talked about that day. The burning satisfaction that she'd felt when she'd first done it, and again when Apophis had brought the memory surging back cooled to a leaden weight of shame in her chest when Uto talked about it so forthrightly. “-is certainly corrupt, and a worthy sacrifice.” She licked her lips. “But what I appreciated about you, my child, was your zeal. The joy of the executioner whose blade finds a deserving target; it is so rare to find a mortal who feels it as purely and keenly as I do, unalloyed with baser motives.” “I would be overjoyed, Kimmy, if you would take the bargain I offer, seal it with the souls of that cur I sent you after. But I will never force you; I am no tyrant. Nor will I hold your body ransom.” Uto reached out a hand, and ran her fingers through Kimmy's green hair, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. As she did, Kimmy felt her body return to normal, all the awful changes Apophis had made undone, and her full size restored save that her heart quickened, and her face burned with a heat that was not entirely due to embarrassment. The chains that held her dissolved again into smoke, and she floated down gently to the floor. When she went to retrieve her staff, she found it already in her right hand. Uto straightened up and waved a hand. An oval, easily large enough for Kimmy to step through, and rimmed with the unmistakable glow of mystic energy, appeared on the opposite side of the tomb. Through it she saw a familiar street, empty beneath the midday sun. “If you choose to return, I will leave you to your new mortal life, and you will make your own way.” Uto turned around, so that Kimmy could see her black scales, and the green serpents that coiled and uncoiled on her head. Kimmy took a few steps toward the portal, but stopped in front of it as the scent of the world outside reached her nose. On the one hand, it was so rare to get what Uto had given her with no strings attached, and unlimited freedom to use it how she wished. One unfortunate loss certainly didn't mean she wouldn't be able to pay back those self-righteous assholes who hid their cowardice, indifference, and smug satisfaction behind colored masks of virtue. On the other, no one had ever spoken to her the way Uto did, valued her the way Uto did. And she had enjoyed playing the part of the priestess. In her last battle, she'd announced herself as a servant of Uto, almost without thinking, it had felt so...right. She'd even enjoyed the childish form that Uto had given her, it fit so well that she'd hated to leave it every time she used the advantage of surprise it offered her. She could certainly keep it if she left now, and use it out in the world whenever she wanted. Her cheeks grew pink at the thought. Still, she knew all too well that the world would not be kind, even to a child with mystical powers. Kimmy turned her head to look back at Uto, whose body was in set in profile against the green torches, one lamp-like green eye watching her. The world she would return to had no one like her; no mortal could ever replace the Mother Goddess, or offer the kind of warmth that she did. So... “I-I...” she stuttered, “I want to stay.” Apophis hissed in surprise, but when Uto turned around, a knowing smile was on her face. “You would? You'll be my little priestess?” “Y-Yes.” “Well, then, my sweetling, repeat after me.” “Give your virtuous over to Isis, that She may teach them.” “Give your virtuous over to Isis, that She may teach them.” Obediently, Kimmy repeated the words, and she felt the world grow larger around her, until she had to crane her neck to look into the light of Uto's eyes. “Give your clever over to Bast, that She may hone them.” “Give your clever over to Bast, that She may hone them.” Kimmy's voice started the phrase as the one she'd made her own, but by the time she got to the words “hone them,” her voice had grown higher, and taken on an unmistakably childish lisp. “Give your wicked over to Uto, that She may devour them.” “Give your wicked over to Uto, that She may devour them.” As soon as the words left her lips, a man's anguished cry filled the tomb, and the soul of Darius Morgan, which had spent the whole ordeal in its prison-jar at Kimmy's waist, twisted and formed a glowing green chain connecting Kimmy's now child- sized heart to Uto's massive one. The bindings wrapped around Kimmy's body, holding her utterly immobile. But she felt no fear as Uto's power embraced her. When the bonds drew tighter, she only grew more certain that this was where she belonged, and who she ought to be. And so, in a flash of green light and a serpentine hiss, Kimberly Schaeffer, Consulting Demonologist, died a second time. And with a second flash, held tight to the breast of her goddess, the Emissary of Uto was born. Her hair was bound again into tight pigtails, but in the place of her blue trenchcoat dress, she wore a child-size version of Uto's own tunic, save for an emerald green ribbon tied into a bow at her chest. “A shadow from beyond descends upon the world, my little priestess. But I am certain,” she intoned, “that when the time comes that we must act, you will make me so very proud.” Uto kissed her new priestess on the top of her little head, and her eyelids fluttered closed. As tiny little snores echoed through the tomb, Uto's serpentine servant dropped his glamour, and slithered round his mistress, resuming his place upon her head with a quiet hiss.

The Interludes are designed to focus on other characters; we’ll get back to Val soon. But I can answer this now: Quantum Sonata is powerful enough that when she sent her energy toward Bridget to speak to her telepathically and suffocate her, it was like a strong radio signal overpowering a weak one. Val couldn’t push her own thought “signal” through Sonata’s interference, even though she’s literally riding Bridget’s neurons

Oh, well, that is, you see, I, um, ah *fairy dust!*

I am nothing but an innocent, pure, and sweet little faerie, thank you very much!

And now, without further ado, Interlude 2, which is substantially different than everything else. As usual, comments are amazing, doubly so with something a bit more experimental like this. Interlude 2: A Good Kitten “Well, that was an absolute shambles.” Leanne slammed the apartment door shut, punctuating her exasperation “You can say 'total shitshow,' babe. There's no one else to hear,” Isis reminded her, shifting back to her human form atop a pile of discarded clothes and jewelry that mere seconds ago had been her Gala outfit. She gave them a dismissive glance that might as well have come from her feline form, and headed back out into the living room, clad only in her most comfortable pair of black underwear. Draping herself languidly across the well-used cushions of the beige couch, she took a deep breath that quickly turned into a yawn. “Total shitshow, then,” Leanne said from the kitchenette. Isis chuckled, and curled herself up on the sofa. Leanne's impeccable received pronunciation clashed delightfully with the profanity she uttered; it was like watching a high-society lady stomp her way through a mud puddle in her best evening gown. For the next few minutes, Isis just lay there, enjoying the soft warmth of the cushions, and the scents of her grandmother's house, with its three dogs and four cats, that had been woven into the fabric over its decades of service. The hand-me-down couch was her favorite part of their shared living room, a defiantly shabby centerpiece that refused to accommodate the meticulous coordination of expensive and immaculate black leather that surrounded it. Most evenings, she took particular satisfaction in lounging there, half-naked with soda in one hand, as she imagined the chagrin of that Liam Shelby Sr., the patriarch of the Shelby line, whose dour portrait hung on the opposite wall, would feel at the sight. At the moment though, she was too exhausted to want to bother with the old man, so she just turned the other way, so her gaze turned to the catalog of stains ancient and recent; a less prestigious record of service, but in its own quiet way, no less honorable. “Tea?” Leanne appeared with a cup and saucer in each hand, “Or would you like it in a saucer, kitten?” Isis felt a little jolt of pleasure dart down her spine that had nothing to do with her partner's electrical powers, save perhaps one. She scooted herself over to let Leanne sit down beside her, then leaned her head against her partner's shoulder as she put her own cup down on the table next to her. “Cup's fine,” Isis replied quickly, turning over to rest both hands on Leanne's right leg, so her face was right above the tea, steam wafting gently past her nose. Once she was in position, Isis lowered her lips to the tea, and began to lap it up. The process was messy by necessity and the next time Isis looked up, Leanne traced her lips with a finger to catch a few errant drops of liquid. Isis gave Leanne's index finger a nibble as it passed, and Leanne gamely held it in place until she was finished. The tea switched hands, so that Isis found it easier to just lay across her partner's lap to maintain her access to delicious caffeine. In response, Leanne rolled back her skirt so that Isis's head lay on the warm smoothness of her legs, as she ran a hand through her thick dark hair. Isis sighed a satisfied sigh, thinking how far they'd come since that first time. The nervousness that she'd felt then, the slight shaking of Leanne's hand, and in the rapid beating of her own heart, was gone, and her partner's touch was reassuringly familiar. “Still, at least I get to walk away from this in a few months. You're the one who's got to deal with my failure. I wanted to set you up to inherit a team with the resources to do anything you wanted, but once Bridget...” her voice trailed off. “The paramedics said she probably had a seizure or something; that's hardly her fault.” Leanne nodded in agreement, but kept stirring her tea absently, long after the sugar had dissolved. “Besides, I don't think me and that Vector lady would have gotten along great anyway.” It was a transparent excuse, of course, but there was no denying that the woman did make her skin crawl. She thought of the strange, impassive way that Sonia Quentin had kept her eyes fixed on Leanne and the contract in front of them. The woman had said and done nothing, even as Sami and her parents rushed to Bridget's side, and the staff hurried to administer first aid to the massive gash on the girl's forehead. It wasn't that she'd frozen up; that would have been normal, especially for someone not trained to react in emergencies. It was that she'd watched Leanne clear everyone away, and direct the ensuing chaos, with the same detached interest with which one might examine the scurrying bustle of an ant farm. Once she'd dusted herself off, she'd simply withdrawn to consult with her legal team, which Isis thought was heartless, even by corporate standards. She'd wanted to complain more forcefully, and in ways that would give even Vector's peerless PR flacks conniptions, but once it was clear that Bridget was going to be all right, Leanne had expressly forbidden it. Sometimes, of course, forbidden didn't mean forbidden, but there had been a steely edge to Leanne's voice that Isis rarely heard outside of combat. “Besides, it's not that big a loss,” Isis continued. “We'll manage.” She even almost believed it. Yeah. And, it's not as though it's all bad. For one thing, we'll have our own place soon, where we don't have to answer to anybody.” She looked over at the dining room table, where her laptop showed picture after picture of the house they'd picked out. It was a tiny thing, that would have barely been considered for to be a guest house in Shelby Manor, but it had a single lovely tree in the yard, and the cutest round window in its front door. “Just two queers and their quantum pet cat.” Isis said with a smirk. “I do hope my kitten finds enough scope there for her particular brand of lovable mischief.” Leanne replied, gently tousling Isis's hair. “I'm sure she will, as long as you remember to take her for walkies now and again.” “Like she'd ever let me leash her,” Leanne said with a laugh. “Well, it still counts as a walk if you walk and I ride on you. That's just science.” “Oh, are we branching out? I thought a spell to make me do it would be more your style.” “I certainly could if you wanted.” Isis nibbled playfully at Leanne's cheek “Silly kitten,” Leanne said, sticking out her tongue, all her usual stiffness and dignity absent. “I imagine you'll have quite a lot to learn without adding spell research to the mix.” “I'll have all that leadership stuff down in no time,” Isis replied with her customary confidence “I know you will,” Leanne replied, her voice reassuring in the face of the fear Isis didn't need to express aloud. Leanne bent down and kissed her on the forehead. “It should be easy, you won't have a young hotshot leader who insists on trying to fight Iron Eagle, Serrate, and Legion all at the same time.” “Well yeah,” Isis conceded, “I'd just have two young hotshot teammates who would jump in to fight them all together. Hopefully they'll follow your example and get their heads screwed on right in the end, though.” “Hopefully. Besides, I'm sure, you'll learn quickly what buttons you need to push to get the response out of them.” Leanne began tracing her fingers in a light, tingling path over Isis's curves, with the barest hint of electricity every few moments. The sensation drew Isis's attention until her whole awareness was spent following the path of Leanne's touch. Her anticipation grew and grew as Leanne's fingers journeyed lower and lower, flirting first with the small of her back, then gradually winding their way even further down. She let out a sudden gasp of surprise and pleasure as Leanne's fingers suddenly abandoned their tracery to grab at the sensitive little nook right at the base of her butt. Seizing the moment, Leanne kissed her fully on her open mouth, her tongue pushing just hard enough to make Isis's whole body shudder. A moment later, Isis squirmed forward to reciprocate Leanne's squeeze, taking one of her breasts in each hand, and moving her fingers just enough to flick at her nipples, which stiffened beneath her bra. It was Leanne's turn to moan in pleasure, and their kiss became a dance, one tongue thrusting forward, one yielding, until the net moment where the situation was suddenly reversed. Leanne's moans rose in pitch as Isis nibbled at the base of her neck,gently enough not to cause pain, but hard enough that Leanne couldn't pull back to escape the riot of sensation. She only let go when Leanne's fingers moved their way around to her front, massaging her clit through the achingly thing black fabric of her panties, first slowly, then picking up speed as they went up and down along her lips, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her whole body. “There, that's a good kitten,” Leanne whispered in her ear. “That's the thing you know,” she continued, wriggling herself off the couch and onto the carpet, so that her head was even with Isis's waist. “Leadership has its own rewards.” Isis was an accomplished sorceress, and could take the form of any number of creatures great and small. As a result, she didn't think much of the aspects of Leanne's physique that most people pined for. Her golden hair and blue eyes, the soft ivory of her skin, all those were just a cantrip away. Still, she couldn't help but feel in awe of the skillful ways that Leanne cold make use of her three inches of tongue, and the ecstatic spells she could weave with it. Later, as they cuddled next to each other, utterly spent, Isis asked a question to which she hoped she knew the answer. “You'll still be there if I need you, right babe?”Her voice quivered with uncertainty that she'd have been mortified if anyone but Leanne had heard “Of course I will, my good little kitten,” Leanne replied, and drew her into a tight, warm embrace.

I’m glad you enjoyed it, and thanks so much for the like!

Hi everyone! I’m finishing up final edits in the next Interlude, and it’ll be out soon. Sorry for the delay, I’ve had a month of computer troubles

Yay, Kimmy’s back!

I only ued as the inspiration for how the fairies talk, and that a thing that usually ends up bad (in the original, a deal with the devil) ends up well for everyone.

I will admit I took some inspiration from my favorite Grimm tale, A Satisfied Customer