Sooner Nation - FICTION

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"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q

Part XIX

Chi Omicron Sigma house basement
"Rory! Oh no!" Cerise yelled. She couldn't bear it if that sweet old man got hurt trying to help her. She jerked reflexively against her bonds and when she did she felt something give in the cords on her wrists. She froze, concentrating all her attention on her wrists, and was filled with a rush of hope nearly overwhelming in its strength. There was some give in the cords and she could move, just a bit. She twisted and pulled and smiled as her right hand finally slipped free of the binding. She shook the cord off her left wrist and wasted no more time reaching up to yank off the mask, taking a tuft of her own red hair with it. There was a loud POP! in her head like static, then the insistent voice was gone. Cerise flung the mask down, and went to work on the cord wrapped snuggly around her ankles.

“No! No no no!” Ashley screamed out suddenly, pointing at Cerise. “She’s trying to get away! Stop her! Damn it! Stop her!”

“Run, Cerise! Get out of here!” Rory bellowed at her and started flailing about with his walking stick. She watched as that heavy, lethal piece of wood bounced off a big, muscular man’s skull... and that man didn’t even stop moving.

“No!” she called back to him. "I'm not leaving you!" There was no way she would leave him behind. She yanked the cord off her ankles roughly enough to leave chafed red marks, and started to shove her way through the crowd to get to Rory. Before she'd moved more than a few steps a pair of iron hands grabbed her shoulders and roughly turned her away from her only friend in that room.

She found herself face to face with Ashley and Stephanie. The blonde’s beautiful face was twisted with fury. “I am so tired of you, you horrid skinny little ginger *****!” the blonde spat. “Just wear the damn mask and shut up already!”

Cerise pulled away, but the man holding her was far too strong. She knew if she wore that mask again she was lost. The swirling colors of magic surrounded her, flowing like a whirlpool around her. Once again, she saw the pretty red-headed Irish girl standing before her. “It’s time and past, Cerise. It’s time for you to fight. The Beast is nearly free, and you must be ready to battle her.” The magic poured into Cerise, filling her up, lifting her up on its power. "Remember...." the Irish girl said, "You must trust your enemy, though he will kill you." She reached out and clasped Cerise's hands. Those magical blades appeared in her grip again, glowing like the sun. Stephanie shoved the mask forward at Cerise’s face and Cerise reacted without thought. Her hands thrust forward and those twin blades plunged into Stephanie’s belly. With a furious cry, Cerise ripped the blades out and down, and Stephanie slowly crumpled, blood and worse leaking out all over her expensive dress.

Cerise stood motionless, horrified at what she’d done, then abruptly threw up. She would have crumpled to her knees, but that iron grip still held her firmly. She opened her hands to drop the blades, but they would not fall, she was too full of the magic, and the blades glowed with it. She felt hysteria rise up to overwhelm her and for one moment, she thought it would be a nice relief. But instead she fought it back. She spat her mouth clear, glanced over her shoulder at the blank-faced man holding her and plunged her elbow back into his belly. Her plan had been to lunge away when he doubled over, but he didn’t even twitch, and her effort did her no good at all.

“Leave her alone!” she heard Rory call. She glanced over to see him surrounded but still making his way closer to her. “Fight, girl! Fight!” he called. She glanced down at the blood pouring out onto the floor, blood from a deadly wound she’d caused. This was not what she wanted. Not at all. Movement, fast and deadly, caught her attention and she ducked away as Rory’s cane smashed into the arms holding her. With a sharp snap like breaking green wood, those strong hands fell away from her and she skipped back.

With Stephanie down, they seemed to have forgotten about her in favor of the man with the big stick. Cerise knew she could run for it, and she’d likely get away. But what about Rory? She couldn’t leave him behind here. She didn’t really understand what was going on, but suspected that it would be very bad for Rory if he didn’t get out. But still she was frozen, standing in the middle of chaos, motionless.

“Cerise...” the old man said suddenly. “I can't hold them back much longer. Make up your mind, child. Help me or run, but do something!”

She opened her mouth to respond just as Rory took a hit, a hard punch to the gut that folded him over a powerful arm, and then an uppercut into his jaw. Rory dropped his walking stick and crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap.

“Oh no!” Cerise cried out, and then the huge man who had hit Rory lunged forward and prepared to start kicking the old man. “NO! No no no!” she cried out, and whirled into motion. The magic flowed into her anew, guiding her hands and her body. Her glowing blades slashed and whirled, and blood began to flow from her enemies. She stood protectively over Rory’s body while he tried to shake off the blow. “C’mon, Rory... get up. C’mon.”

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Ashley fled the basement and raced to her room upstairs. She had had it with the Nation girls. Word had come down from above when the oldest sister Cydney was still at OU that they WOULD initiate at least one of the Nation sisters into the Carnival. They had failed with Cydney, and again with Caryn. And now Ashley was faced with the responsibility of getting a mask on Cerise Nation. Trying to meet that goal had cost her two most powerful lieutenants, Jessica in the hospital and that idiot Stephanie almost certainly dead.

If Ashley was positive she wouldn’t be punished for it, she’d kill Cerise Nation and have done with it. Power or no power, those ******* were not worth the effort. Unfortunately for Ashley, word was that Vanessa DeVore herself was interested in seeing a Nation girl initiated. Ashley huffed angrily. It wasn’t like there weren’t OTHER girls with power out there. Why THIS girl?

She knew she took a risk counting on her sisters and their mind-controlled males to keep the stubborn red-headed ***** contained in the basement, but it was time to stop playing around with her. Ashley yanked open the cedar chest at the foot of her bed, flung several thousand dollars worth of soft cashmere sweaters out, and ripped open the false bottom. She wasted no time stripping to her skin and then unceremoniously pulling on her costume. Cream colored stockings and garters attached to the belt slung low on her hips, while a soft silk fuchsia and electric blue scarf draped across her waist. She pulled tight the laces on a scant purple and green top that left very little to the imagination, then tugged on the polychromatic boots and lace trimmed gloves. A pair of beribboned juggling sticks extended over her shoulders. She irritably fluffed the thick lace collar that lined her cleavage and wrapped behind her neck. Finally, she opened an elegantly carved wooden box to reveal a delicately painted porcelain mask. Somewhere very deep inside of her a younger, more innocent Ashley murmured a protest, then subsided. Ashley reverently lift the mask to her face and stiffened for just a moment as her eyes began to glow with an evil red light. She laughed, a happy, light sound, and glided from the room.

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Conall made a great show of struggling to his feet, keeping his head down so that he couldn’t see the numb little wench he was trying to keep alive. What was WRONG with the little fool that she wouldn’t fight to save herself? If his freedom was not dependant on her survival, he would kill the stupid child himself! He had intended all along to take a fall in order to build a bond between then and encourage her to trust him even more, but he had never imagined he would have to fall before she would even start fighting. If she had been alone there would she really have let herself be overwhelmed rather than fight back? Typical female -weak and squeamish, foolish and soft.

He was quite grateful to discover that not all the masked women possessed the power to attack him psychically. He now suspected that only the trio he’d met previously had held that power. With the one he had sent to the hospital out, and the one the girl had killed, that left only the blonde. That one seemed to have vanished so, for the time being, he was just having to put on a show for Cerise without worrying about enduring those wretchedly painful psychic attacks.

Fortunately, now that the girl was engaged in helping him, she fought well. He could feel the magic guiding her, but she had the strength and grace to follow through with deadly efficiency. They worked their way to the stairs, step by bloody step. Conall knew from personal and painful experience from her sisters that if Cerise ever accepted the power that could be hers, she would be a very formidable opponent. But she was still awkward and clumsy in her power, probably because she was still too soft-hearted to kill people who wanted to do worse than that to her.

Conall learned quickly that if the girl started to falter he could bring her back to fight by showing pain or weakness. If he allowed a man to hit him, she was there with her blades cutting that man down. If he stumbled or cried out, she would redouble her efforts to clear the space around them so he could get his feet under him again. It would be touching were it not so foolish. What was wrong with the cretinous girl? If it would not be thoroughly counter to his goals, he would grab her and shake her until a sense of self-preservation broke loose!

They left a trail of bleeding and bruised young men and women in their wake. The men kept fighting until physically unable, and then dropped silently, but the women fought like furious cats, full of spitting and yelling, and if they survived the fight, they continuing their harangue even after they were down.

Once they made the stairs, Conall hid his smile of triumph. They were going to get out of there unscathed and without Cerise ever knowing who her rescuer really was. In the close confines of the narrow stairs, everyone’s movement was restricted, but their attackers lost the advantage of numbers. “Go, try the door,” Conall called to Cerise, and took a position blocking the stairs. He listened to Cerise’s light steps trotting up, and then the door opened. He risked one glance over his shoulder and began to curse.

A Carnival of Shadows Ring Mistress stood at the top of the stairs in her eye-blinding, skin baring outfit. Her long blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders revealed her to be the one called Ashley, but her face was hidden by a Carnie mask. That mask would amplify her power and was going to make her far more formidable than when they'd fought before.

Cerise stumbled back, shock clear on her face. Ashley took one step forward onto the landing. Her glowing red gaze speared Cerise, “I am going to make you hurt for all the trouble you’ve caused, you're going to beg me to put the mask back on you, you horrid little *****” she promised. That blank mask turned toward Conall. “And I don’t know what you are or why you’re interfering, but I will not tolerate ANY further disruptions.” Then the Ring Mistress laughed. “Let the PARTY begin!” she cried.

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Nice turn of events, Sooner ::nods, grinning::

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Damned Carnies.

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"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q

Part XX

Chi Omicron Sigma house basement
Conall turned his body sideways so he could look up the stairs at the new threat and down at the mass of enemies below. Cerise backed down to him and instinctively put her shoulders against his. The narrow staircase was filled with the red light from her magical blades. “What do we do now, Rory?”

“Now we fight, girl.” he answered. He glanced back over his shoulder at her wide green eyes. “And fight like you mean it, or we’re both done for.” The surprise in her eyes told him that perhaps his tone sounded more like his natural voice and less like the kindly Rory, but if that was what it took to make the ignorant fool move, he would forgive himself for the slip.

Ashley focused her gaze on Conall, and unleashed her ire on him, not surprising given that she knew that he was the real threat there on the staircase. They both knew that if he fell, Cerise would belong to the Carnies. The psychic attack tore through his defenses felt like hot knives slicing into his brain. He ground his teeth and hunched his shoulders. The blonde harpy was indeed far more powerful while wearing her mask and the pain was nearly unbearable. The Ring Mistress sank her psychic claws deep into his skull again and he realized that even though she couldn’t defeat him, she might well rip his human mask off as the pain of her attack made it difficult to maintain his control over his form. Moments later he felt the fire ease inside his skull and he recognized Trix's touch. So, his little imp was still hidden below, helping as she could. Still, if Cerise saw his human facade slip even for a moment, that would complicate his relationship with her and damage her trust in him. So, time for another performance.

As the pain struck him again, he cried out and brought a hand to his forehead. He stumbled a bit and cried, “She’s killing me!” He turned to Cerise again and let the pain show in his eyes. “I’ll hold them off, child, but you’ve got to get her out of my skull!”

Still the stupid red-haired child hesitated, and Conall stepped up his manipulation by uttering a ragged scream with the next attack from Ashley.

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Rory's scream tore through Cerise’s very soul. The tough old man was down here because of her, hurting because of her. And she suspect that if they lost this fight, Rory wouldn’t survive. She set her grip on the knives and charged Ashley. The blonde was slow to refocus her attention, but when Cerise’s blades skittered across her porcelain mask, those red glowing eyes focused their full intensity on Cerise Nation.

The first psychic attack ripped through Cerise like fire. She let out a cry, and then dug down to that store of determination that had served her well her entire life. She made up her mind right then that she and Rory were walking out of that basement and out of that house. And no rich, stuck-up, blonde bimbo was going to stop her.

“Out of my way, Ashley!” she cried and slashed at the blonde.

“You’re not leaving the party now, are you?” Ashley laughed. “Oh no! I simply can’t let you leave until you’ve joined the masquerade!”

Cerise felt that mental energy strike her again, and abruptly she couldn’t move her feet. “Get out of my head! Let us go!”

“Oh, you silly thing!” Ashley laughed, dancing back out of Cerise’s reach. “Surely you don’t think after all the time we’ve put in to getting you here that we’re just going to let you leave before the party really gets going? We haven’t even brought out the punch and cookies!”

That invisible mental attack ripped through Cerise again, but she suddenly realized there was more magic in that fight than her own. Something was soothing her, protecting her from the attack. She didn’t know who her friend was, but she was profoundly grateful.

“Let us go!” she demanded again, slashing wildly with her magical blades. “I’ll never join you now, and it doesn’t help you to hurt Rory... he’s just an old man!”

Ashley laughed, the bell-like sound warped by the mask. “Oh! You really don’t know what he is, do you?” She clapped her hands like a child excited by a pretty wrapped gift. “Oh.. This is delightful!”

Rory spoke from below, his voice ragged, "Child, you can't talk your way out of this! You have to fight her if you want to leave here under your own will!"

“I know he’s my hero, my knight, my guardian angel! This is the second time he’s come to save me, and he and I are both walking out of here, right now!”

“Cerise!” Rory called to her, “Quit talking and hit her!”

Ashley laughed again. “Your hero guardian knight angel sent you up here all alone to fight me, though, didn’t he? And even if you don’t know, believe me when I tell you that he understands that I rule this house because I have the strength to hold it. He knows I'm the biggest badass in this fight, and yet... he sent you up here." She shook her head. "The only way you two are leaving is through me... and that means you aren’t leaving. He's going to die screaming, and I'm going to hurt you, and enjoy doing it, until you are screaming for me to put the mask back on you.”

She lifted her hands to her mask, and Cerise shrieked at the pain raking through her mind. The pain eased for a moment, the Ashley cocked her head. "Him first." Cerise heard Rory cry out again, a ragged, hoarse moan, low and deep. He stumbled into the wall behind him and the look on his face was so full of pain that Cerise imagined she could see flames flickering around his eyes. He ducked his head, groaned again, and choked out, "Kill her.... now, child. Now!" With a last groan like a wounded animal's growl, he crumbled.

At the sound of such distress from her hero, Cerise’s last shreds of reluctance vanished. She opened herself fully to the magic swirling around her and leapt up the last few steps, her blades flashing. Ashley began backing away, step by slow step. Her psychic fingernails scratched at Cerise again and again, but Cerise was moving on pure determination. The pain was just another goad. She whirled and darted, feinted and slashed. Ashley was putting more energy into evading than attacking, and that gave Cerise the opportunity to push her attack. She began to really believe they would make it off those steps.

Ashley oozed bright red blood from a half-dozen shallow wounds and continued giving ground slowly. Cerise pushed her way forward past a blinding headache from the repeated mental attacks. She would not be aware until much later of the blood leaking from her nose, eyes, and ears. When set foot on the landing at the top of the stairs she felt the corner of her mouth twitch. Ashley backed away again while Cerise stood firmly at the top of the stairs and smiled triumphantly. “You can’t stop us!” she cried out.

“You’re not leaving us, Cerise! The clowns haven't done their show yet!” Ashley leaned forward and Cerise instinctively braced herself. “Now get back down there like a good little pledgeling!”

A wall of psychic energy struck Cerise and she started to stumble back. It pushed at her, tried to make her fall. She knew if she fell she would tumble down those steps and into Rory. She took a step back, dizzy, and caught herself on one hand. She glanced back at Rory where he was struggling back to his feet, and that was when she saw something that nearly distracted her from the larger fight. A tiny red-skinned demon hovered at the foot of the stairs on delicate membranous wings. It cocked its head at Cerise and lifted a tiny clawed hand. Red energy sank into Cerise, soothing the burning, biting pain in her brain. Then, before Cerise was even certain she'd seen it, it flitted out of sight.

Cerise shook her head, glanced at Rory again. She couldn't let him get hurt, or worse, trying to help her. She turned her gaze back on Ashley and her green eyes narrowed. There was just one way out.

She drove herself forward, pushing herself at her enemy. She slammed into Ashley like a linebacker and they both tumbled to the floor. Cerise didn’t allow herself to think about her actions. Ashley would never let them go and Cerise had to stop her. She let the magic guide her attack. She lifted both hands high overhead and plunged them down, yelling out a wordless battle cry as first the left then the right sought and found blood. The points pierced Ashley’s skin and tore into her chest. The left blade bit high up under the shoulder and blood pumped from the wound, but the right... that shimmering red blade of light plunged smoothly though skin and muscle and bone with a moist tearing sound and thunked into the floor underneath. Ashley had time for one single shriek before blood began to ooze from her mouth and nose. She coughed once, then again, spraying a fine mist of blood out over Cerise, then she went still.

All was silent for a moment, then a chorus of horrified protests arose from below, and Cerise realized that with Ashley gone, the mind-controlled men were finally free. The blades vanished as Cerise covered her face with her hands and let out a long horrified wail.

Before she could give in to the wave of emotion, Rory charged up behind, grabbed her by the elbow, and lifted her to her feet. “We have to go. Now.” His voice was as calm and emotionless as if he were explaining they were going to be late to a movie, but it did the job. Cerise raced out of the Chi Omicron Sigma house on his heels, never noticing the tiny imp flitting out of a basement window and climbing into the sky.

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Trix almost blew it.

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I'm sure that that will become evident as the story progresses, Ice. }:>

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The Abrams is one of the most effective war machines on the planet. - R. Lee Ermy.

Q: How do you wreck an Abrams?

A: You crash into another one.

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Nice touch having Trix help *her*

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Part XXI

The stately street just off the OU campus known as Little Greece was lined with beautiful houses and filled with beautiful young men and women enjoying the full fraternity or sorority experience. The street was quiet and peaceful as the sun sank slowly into the fiery horizon. The flurry of activity spreading out from the Chi Omicron Sigma house stayed hidden beneath the surface.

As Cerise fled, shepherded by her guardian demon, the young Carnival of Shadow recruits were initially thrown into disarray. The young men who had been under mind control were suddenly free. Many of them fled, a few of them staggered away, heads in hands, And some of them became furiously violent, attacking the surprised young women around them. In the first minutes after their Ring Mistress died, things were spiraling out of control. It was a situation that could have caused the Carnival of Shadows a significant amount of embarrassment. However, one level headed young lady escaped the basement and called the one remaining Ring Mistress - Jessica - still recovering in the hospital. Jessica wasted no time checking herself out against medical advice and contacting her superiors in the Carnival. By the time the campus was fully dark, the first fully powered Carnies were on the scene, expertly erasing memories of what had happened. A potential disaster was laboriously being brought back under control like a giant ship slowly turning to avoid the iceberg looming ahead.

Jessica, pale and weak, but thriving under her opportunity to show that she should have been the Ring Mistress all along, gathered her preferred followers to her and asked them the most important question still to be resolved. “Where is Cerise Nation?”

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The late Akando had enjoyed a small older home not far from the campus. It was immaculately neat and decorated with handmade artistry ranging from weavings, paintings, rugs, pottery and heavy leather and wood chairs and a matching couch. It was a distinctly masculine environment and there was no doubt of his Native American heritage.

But on that evening, as the long, strange day faded into darkness, Akando’s home provided much needed shelter to the girl he’d tried to manipulate and the demon who had been responsible for his death. Cerise had gone quiet and compliant. As Conall found her much easier and very much less irritating to deal with that way, he made no effort to rouse her. Instead, he tucked her into bed, closed the door behind her, and contacted Ciara Banenighe.

"My Conall," she pouted, "Why do you appear to me wearing the appearance of a human?"

Conall found that distance made the harpy more bearable. He was able to keep his sneer from twisting his face as he swallowed an angry response. "I do not want the girl to see me otherwise," he said. "She trusts me. She sees me as her savior and friend. If she saw my true form, that would no longer be the case."

Conall watched as Ciara toyed with a glowing red sphere. She tossed it casually back and forth, and her eyes flicked to it frequently. She was pleased by it. He noted it and put it aside for later consideration. "My human servant is dead, Conall," she said after a long pause. "What happened to him?"

"The Carnival of Shadows had targeted the girl. They are very dangerous indeed. Your human was killed when the conflict between your interests and theirs began to come to a head."

Ciara cocked her head at him and smiled. "I know you, my most dangerous pet. Did you kill him?"

Conall's gaze never wavered from hers. "No." Conall did not give her the opportunity to pursue that topic further, instead he directed her attention elsewhere. "The Carnival will not release their interest in the girl, especially after the trouble tonight. She will remain in danger from them."

Ciara waved her hand as if shaking off a troublesome fly. "I will deal with them. You see to it the girl remains safe... and use that trust, Conall. Use it and make sure she keeps drawing on the magic."

"Yes, Ciara. I will," he answered.

---
Ciara was pleased enough by the results Conall had achieved with the last of the daughters ó Floinn that she didn’t argue about the loss of her human servant Akando. Whatever he'd said, she knew he was responsible for the death. However, Akando had been less and less useful of late, and with his death, her obligation to his family ended. Oh… she would have to punish Conall, but it would be a token punishment only. And perhaps she could make use of the human called Benjamin Tenkiller she had captive to replace Akando.

However, at that moment she had other concerns. The Carnival of Shadow’s interest in Cerise Nation could not be allowed to continue.

By midnight, one of Ciara’s imps had arrived at a lavish party. It took the revelers over an hour to find Vanessa DeVore and drag her away from the pile of beautiful young women and handsome young men who had been entertaining her. But once Vanessa’s attention had been gained, the leader of the Carnival of Shadows and the captive demoness launched into an intense negotiation. In the end, the Carnival agreed to give up all claim to Cerise Nation and her sisters, and Ciara promised to deliver to the Carnival three young women of at least equal power. Since the Carnival was strictly interested in the depth of power possessed by the Nation sisters, any girl with equivalent power was acceptable to DeVore. And when the three terrified young ladies were delivered to Vanessa’s DeVore’s door, the leader of the Carnies was imminently satisfied with the results of that arrangement.

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By dawn the next day, the reports of a massacre at the Chi-O-S house had been dismissed as a particularly tasteless prank. No one remembered that Ashley or Stephanie had ever existed, so no one wasted a moment wondering why they had disappeared. Jessica recovered and accepted with good grace her orders to leave Cerise Nation alone. Why would she not? She owed the red-headed ***** a debt of gratitude. Jessica’s future as a powerful leader among the Carnival was assured now that Cerise Nation had eliminated Ashley and Stephanie for her. As far as Cerise’s pet demon… well…. Jessica sincerely hoped she never would meet that particular monster again.

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ROFLOL, Pet Demon indeed.

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@tiggy

Beware the attack cat

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"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q

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So, Conall tells the truth and Ciara still plans to punish him...

$#@% that #$&*@, I cannot wait to see her beaten into a fiery mass of demon goo, blood, and something too foul to name.

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Part XXII

The Ghosts Reborn Base
Sooner Spirit stood in the entry of the Ghosts Reborn base. She was exhausted. She still wore her costume, though it was dirty and scuffed. She’d pushed her hood back to reveal her long reddish hair, still mussed and sloppy. She clutched a cup of steaming coffee in her hands as if it were a lifeline.

She studied the wall of photos in a melancholy daze, a deliberate effort to avoid thinking about the present by losing herself in the past. So many photos, so many lost friends. She sipped her coffee as her green eyes traveled from face to face, smiling, serious, handsome, pretty, brave, determined faces. And all of them gone now. She was ashamed to admit that she cared more about some than others, but each of them of had their name written somewhere on her heart, as if it were her job to keep them safe and she’d failed each one when they’d died.

As they always did, her eyes drifted to two photos and one blank spot. A beautiful blonde woman smiled brashly out of one photo near the top. Cowboy Dream had not been killed by their enemies The Shades of Vengeance. For all practical purposes, she’d died when her husband Ice9 fell in the Rogue Isles. It just took her a little longer to get around to realizing it. A few columns over from CD's photo was Ahren’s. The smiling, handsome man surrounded by brilliant Peacebringer energy had been one of her first friends in Paragon City and she still thought of him as the mentor who had help her become the hero she was. Such a friendly, open, exuberant man he had been, and what a painful blow it had been when he was lost. No one knew what had happened to him, but it had killed a piece of Sooner’s heart to hang that photo. Then... Ahren had come back, scarred, dark, bitter, angry, and stripped of his kheldian powers. [the details of which can be read here: Ahren: The Rise and Fall of a Hero

She dragged her eyes away from Ahren’s photo to the empty space by Cowboy Dream. Ice9 had died, but he’d returned as well, with the new name Glacius9 and possessed of a Peacebringer’s powers [and more detail about how that came to be can be read here: You can Call me Glacius9. The first time he’d walked through this hallway after his return, he’d taken down the picture of Ice9. His eyes had lingered for a moment on Cowboy Dream, then he’d walked away, leaving that blank spot that no one had filled.

Sooner often wondered why the difference. Ice9 had died and been revived by Crey science and sustained by a new fusion with a Kheldian. He’d embraced his new life by taking on a new name. Ahren had never actually died and had retained his name even when starting over with no powers at all. Why did the man who HAD died take down the photo, when the man who had not died left it there?

And now Ahren had been reborn again. He and Vir [formerly known as UPS 2.2 - a change made by the player apparently for the purpose of complicating my life. ] had collaborated to create a strain of nanites like the ones that powered Vir. The administration of the nanites had apparently nearly killed Ahren. Her old friend was slow to adjust to his new abilities, but the tiny machines had healed his scars and strengthened his body. Ahren had been there for Sooner Spirit as a Peacebringer, and then he’d been there for Sooner Magic. The two damaged heroes had been good for each other, and by the time they had both earned their titles as Heroes of the City both had shed that darkness that shadowed them. And now he was starting over once again.

Which brought Sooner back to the worry she’d tried to distract herself from to start with. Something was very wrong with the youngest Nation sister. Sooner’s ability to sense both her sisters had grown steadily over the time since she'd become a hero. She knew Cerise wasn’t dead, and she was certain the worst of the danger was past. But still... something very serious was happening, and Sooner couldn’t leave her Ghosts. With Neely now gone away to some new world[the events of which can be read about here: Homecoming, the leadership of the Ghosts had fallen squarely and heavily on Sooner and Glacius9. The lives of so many heroes were now in her hands and she was determined not to fail them.

“Cyd?” called a voice from the doorway.

Sooner Spirit turned and smiled. Her sister Sooner Magic stood in the entryway behind her. The gaunt and haunted young woman who’d come to Paragon City was a strong, confident, powerful hero now. It looked good on her. “Cyd? Are you ok? You look terrible.”

“I’m just tired, Caryn, but I needed to talk with you.”

Sooner Spirit was determined to keep every Ghost as safe as their dangerous lives would allow. And to keep her sisters safe as well, until whatever prophecy ruled their lives was complete, the Nation sisters must stick together. And that meant Cerise Nation needed to come to Paragon City.

“What’s up?” Caryn asked

“I need you to go get Cerise.”

Caryn nodded. “I feel it too.”

“I though maybe you would. Find her, make sure she’s safe, and bring her here.”

Caryn nodded. “I will. And Cyd?” Sooner Spirit raised a brow in answer. “Keep an eye on Ahren for me while I’m gone.”

“I always do,” Cyd answered with a sad smile. “Now bring our baby sister here.”

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Conall waited patiently in the house that belonged to Akando, still wearing his "Rory Flynn" human form. Cerise had slept like the dead for nearly twelve hours. If she didn't rouse soon, he would have to wake her. He hoped the scent of fresh coffee and food would catch her attention, so he cooked. He was a powerful, cruel, evil to the core demon. He had vast plans that would result in the subjugation of all humans and his complete control of this world. He would crush his oppenents into the dust of the remains of the ones who had fallen before... and he was cooking breakfast for a foolish human girl child upon whom his freedom depended. He let his frustration out in a low growl deep in his throat. He was finishing with a pan of cheesy scrambled eggs when he heard a door open and close. A few quiet footsteps, and then a soft voice spoke from the doorway, "Rory? Where are we?"

He turned, stretching a friendly smile across his borrowed human face. "Cerise! I wondered if you would ever wake! Are you well, child?"

She looked wan and haunted, her eyes sunken, her shoulders hunched. But Conall knew her sisters. He was confident she would recover and be stronger for it. "I really hoped it was a dream. I guess not, huh?"

"I'm afraid it was all too real," he answered with a head shake. He pulled out a chair for her. "Come and sit. I made breakfast."

"I couldn't eat," she answered, but she shuffled her way across the kitchen and settled herself in the chair. Conall placed a cup full of coffee on the table by her elbow and then, despite her denial, he offered a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast.

Conall sat opposite her, moving slowly as would an older man who had over exerted himself the night before. "Have a bite of the toast, at least, child. It would make me feel better to see you eat something." He hid his headshake as she obliged him by picking up a triangle of toast and nibbling it. She ate to make him feel better, but not herself. What was WRONG with the fool? "You did well down there, Cerise," he said once she'd started toying with her eggs.

She looked up at him and her green eyes were shiny. "Do you think they're dead? Stephanie and Ashley?"

The question startled him so much he didn't answer right away, and a fat tear welled up out of one eye and trailed down her cheek. "Yes, I do. And several more besides," he answered finally.

She sat her fork down. "...and I killed them."

He sighed, took a firm grip on his temper, and reached across the table to grasp her hand in his. "Cerise. They were going to do worse to you. I was there, you had no choice."

"No..." she whispered.

He abruptly decided that quiet and sympathetic were getting nowhere with her. He pulled his hand away and stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. Cerise startled, looked up at him with wide eyes while her mouth formed a perfect, shocked O. "Perhaps you think it would have been better if I'd been killed as well as you?" he shook his head angrily."I for one am very glad to be alive, and to have you here alive with me. And if that cost the lives of those people... those people who wanted to hurt you and kill me... I think that's more than a fair trade, young woman."

Cerise blinked up at him, her face paled even further at the first harsh words she'd heard from him. "No, no.. I'm so glad you're ok. You're right, Rory."

He nodded, letting approval shine on his face. "Good to hear some sense from you. Now... have a bit more of the breakfast I fixed for you."

She spent more time toying with the food than eating it, but she sat quietly and nibbled. Conall watched her face. The youngest Nation girl was lost in thought, and her emotions were clearly written on her face. She paused suddenly, her fork halfway to her mouth and an expression of hope came over her face as her eyes flicked back and forth in her head. The hope slowly faded away and she sat her fork down again.

"What is it, child?" he asked finally.

"I was thinking... about that prophecy thing. I was hoping that maybe.. what happened last night was what it was about. I... had almost talked myself into believing it. But... no... it's still out there." She looked up at him. "Rory, what were they? Do you think what happened had anything to do with my prophecy?"

He cocked his head at the question. "Since I don't know your prophecy, it's difficult to say. Why do you ask?"

"Well... my prophecy is all about a demon, called The Beast. And... last night... I thought I saw a demon. But it was tiny. And... I think it helped me."

Conall's eyes flicked to the shadows of the room where Trix hid and back to Cerise. Then he shook his head. "They were able to make me see things that frightened me to the bottom of my soul. Perhaps that was what you saw. " She considered it, and shrugged. "Tell me about your prophecy and why it makes you so sad."

"Well... there's the whole 'trust your enemy though he will kill you' thing,'" she said and Conall blinked in pure surprise. "What enemy? Why should I trust him? ESPECIALLY if he's going to kill me?"

"That's the prophecy?" he managed to ask.

"Well, no. That's kinda like a part of it, though. There's this demon called The Beast and, like, a thousand years ago or something my family did some sort of magic thing and now she's trapped and she'll never go free until there are three sisters born to the clan ó Floinn, but... I'm the third sister. And she doesn't seem to be free and none of us understand what's goin on."

"Cerise, demons are horrible, evil, cruel creatures. If you have one as an enemy, you'd best understand why and what you can do to save yourself. You need to learn to use your power, and you need to learn how to win free of her. You have to." He stood and paced about the small, neat kitchen. "Can you tell me more?"

"I can sing you a song." Cerise smiled and stood. "This is how I was taught the story, anyway." She rested her left hand on the back of the kitchen chair and began to sing. She stood straight and tall, her red hair falling loose over her shoulders. Her voice was a light and pretty alto and the melody in its odd minor key took Conall back to his first years of existence in the British Isles.

To the clan ó Floinn The Beast came, covetous and greedy.
The evil craved the light of the daughters ó Floinn greatly.
To work its most foul will on the world it would steal their might.
But ó Floinn would not surrender, the warriors joined the fight.

The brave men ó Floinn met The Beast, fought The Beast, and tried.
The warriors ó Floinn charged The Beast, attacked The Beast, and died.
The Beast drew closer, the grandfathers and the boys took arms.
Bravely they fought, bravely they fell, and still The Beast came on.

Celach the strong, Cahan the swift, Carra the fair
The magical daughters ó Floinn
Celach the brave, Cahan the clever, Carra the bold
The courageous sisters ó Floinn

The daughters ó Floinn were to be the prize The Beast sought.
Three fair sisters with power blazed, with that power they fought
The Beast. They drove it back till to its home it fled.
The sisters together could overcome The Beast’s might in warrior’s stead.

With the last of their magic and power The Beast dread they bound.
A solemn pact by the daughters ó Floinn made to seal The Beast down.
Never again would three sisters born to the line ó Floinn every be.
This pledge the clan made lest The Beast once again roam free.

Celach the strong, Cahan the swift, Carra the fair
The magical daughters ó Floinn
Celach the brave, Cahan the clever, Carra the bold
The courageous daughters ó Floinn

Her voice faded away and she settled back into the seat.

Conall smiled at her. "Your voice is lovely," he said. "But that just confirms that you MUST learn more. Child, there is so much potential in you. You must learn to use it. You must find out more about this prophecy. I have some small skill in magic, Cerise, I can help you-"

Conall and Cerise both froze as a loud, demanding knock pounded on the door. And again. Conall took a pair of steps towards the door, between whoever was there and Cerise. No one should know they were there. That made whoever was on the other side of that door a threat. He made a quiet gesture to Trix where she hid away to stay put. Then the door thudded open and Conall had a moment to decide whether or not to attack his enemy standing in the doorway.

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*gets all tingly with anticipation*

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I really liked the frustration when he was cooking breakfast ! Shoulda stuck a "Kiss The Cook" apron on him

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"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q