An Inevitable Reunion!? (closed)

[Ter-Thok]

It was a lovely day in the largest open-air chapel in Radasanth, and the wedding was, so far, going off without a hitch. Both the bride (a rather spoiled young duchess with a face as fair as lilac and a bottom like two cantaloupes in love) and the groom (the fairly dim-witted son of a local baron, who was minus 1 chin and plus several acres of eyebrow) had each successfully reached the altar, and now only had to concentrate very hard on their one line in the ceremony. The priest, dressed in all the regalia of an Arch-Druid of the Nature God Terphilogrian, stepped into his place beneath the Altar of Trees with the faint smile on the faces of all priests who are about to perform a service they themselves will never be able to enjoy. He opened his mouth to deliver the classic opener, "Dear Friends...", and choked. He felt his breath catch in his throat, and sweat beaded on the old man's wrinkled forehead. His eyes were focused in on a single point in the audience, a speck of bright, vivid red.

The lens of terror focused the priest's failing vision to super-human levels, and he saw what he dreaded: the demon Ter-Thok, in all his exceptionally short, skinny glory, grinned vaguely and offered a little wave. The priest felt a vibration in his pocket; he smiled weakly at the bride and groom, who had not yet caught on that this was not according to plan, simply maintained their inane stare forward. In the front row, Duke d'Ghunki, father of the bride and a rather portly, bristly-moustached man, stirred, and his eyes darted to the ornamental sundial in the center of the garden. The priest reached a thin, veiny hand down to his pocket and pulled out a small greenish-blue stone engraved with runes.

"Er," the old man said, "I'm sorry, just a moment, I'm afraid my paging stone has informed me of, er...some , ah, business. I'll be back in no time at all, hahah." If it was possible to shuffle urgently, that would be what the priest was doing to reach the beautifully crafted building that was little more than a place for the priest to sleep, store his gardening tools, and resist the urge to look at the exciting pictures secreted under his cot. The audience began to murmur; not angry murmurings, yet, but they certainly could get that way soon. Ter-Thok politely bid adieu to the elderly great-aunt of the groom to whom he was holding a conversation and slinked off towards the shed, Electro-Prod clenched tightly in one small, red hand. His barbed tail undulated cheerfully as his hooves clicked on the decorative stepping stones.

The priest was wildly stuffing his possessions into a large rucksack. Some of it was usual druid stuff; focus icons, containers of bark scrapings and such, potted plants. However, once this was accomplished, he gave a surprisingly strong kick to the base of his dresser, and a secret drawer slid out silently. He brought out two shiny, black tubes, open at one wind and with a handgrip at the other. They had rusted some around the trigger, but still exuded death from every seam. These were tossed into the sack, along with several bizarre plastic cards and a long, flat steel rectangle. The old man tugged the sack over his arthritic back and made for the window when he heard the innocent creak of the only door in the building. He sighed, and slung the bag back down to the floor.

"It was a good try," Ter-Thok said conversationally, "But you should have realized the ride wouldn't last forever, compadre."

The priest pulled his tall, ivy-wrapped hat off his head and stared at it. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. The old man slowly sat down on his cot.

"How long?" the priest murmured.

"Me, personally?" Ter-Thok responded, stepping further into the room, "I've only been after you for a couple of days, honestly. Got the word from HQ. It's been fifty years since you went on the lam. Captain Daguerro Crushneck, scourge of the space-lanes. You've come a long way, mate,"

"Hmph," the old man chuckled, "It almost seems like a dream, sometimes. Like I'm just a rather sad old priest who just imagines he was a great pirate. Then I lie in bed at night, and I can't fight it...and I take the pictures out from under the cot, and I...I..." his hands were shaking now, and he pulled a glossy square of paper out of the hat, staring at it, "I need to see it. To remind me it was all real. I'm not Father Treefeather Dance-with-rocks. I'll never be, no matter how weakly I smile. I was, and still am, Captain Daguerro Crushneck,"

"You were one of the greatest, y'know," the demon stated, "But you made a mistake; you hit that last freighter, the decoy, and it all went monkey-shaped. And you ran. And hid. Clever, rigging that sensor crystal to go off if anything more advanced than a pocketwatch was in the area."

"What's the bounty up to, demon? I just...I need to know."

"Thirteen million, Cap'n. Thirteen million. I won't see much of it, this is a government job, but you know how it is."

"I do. I've been running a long time, demon. I've been here fifteen years. I thought a priest on an underdeveloped planet would be as good an occupation as any. But it's just a cover, it's always just been a cover. I have one last request, demon."

"As long as it isn't 'Let me run away', I think I might be able to give you that."

"I'm not a priest, and I'll not die a priest's death." There was a click, and the old pirate leapt up, his habit whirling around him like a shroud. In one hand he held one of his ancient, black-metal guns; rust flaked as he pulled the trigger. Ter-Thok ducked under the first shot, rolling towards the man's knees. His electro-prod stabbed out with an electrical crackle, and scorched blood sprayed out onto the floor. Another stab hit home on the false priest's chest, with a sizzle, and he fell forwad. Ter-Thok stood over him, shirt soaked with blood, chest heaving from the rush. The priest looked up at the demon, smiling. "Thank you," he wheezed, and the last light left his eyes.

Ter-Thok gave a little salute, conjured a ball of roaring purple fire in his hand, and dropped it on the corpse. He wiped his Electro-Prod's blade on the vestments, and stepped out into the sunlight. The crowd had, by now, grown fairly angry. Never one to see a party ruined, the demon ran to the altar, trying in vain to wipe the copious amounts of blood off of his clothes. He hopped on top of the podium and addressed the people.

"Yo! Rich bastards! Excuse me!" Ter-Thok ignored the harrumphing that followed, and pressed on, "I'm sorry to report that your priest has died," Almost two thousand eyeballs focused squarely on the brown-red stains even then setting in the demon's shirt. Even Ter-Thok was able to realize this. Resolutely refusing to look at the terminally bewildered bride and groom, he rallied magnificently. "Yes," he continued, "It seems that a large...er, vat of raspberry wine he was preparing for a ceremony next week was boiling over; he fell in. I myself was splashed in attempting to rescue the guy. So, uh, yeah. He will be unable to conduct the wedding."

"Wah-yull, then whom is going to peah-foahm the ceah-reh-moahnee? You, little creahchuh?" inquired the groom.

"Me? No, no. However, I do have an associate who recently completed his galactic notary training and would be qualified for this sort of thing," Ter-Thok filled his lungs, then shouted, "HANS!"

In the crowd, the ooze looked up from some knitting, handed it back to the grandmother, and proceeded to undulate up the aisleway. It was several inches too narrow for nearly seven feet of spherical crimson ooze to pass. He bumped quite a number of patrons; the majority of the audience were just normal citizens; the people of Radasanth were always glad for a party, especially one financed entirely by the wealthy upper classes. They'd even sit through a boring wedding for it.

Hans reached the podium, and Ter-Thok nodded. The ooze slid himself up to the podium, looked disdainfully at the Terphilogrianian wedding ceremony written neatly in a small book. The ooze shrugged, tossed it behind him, and extruded a semi-transparent pseudopod from either side of his central mass, gripping the podium's edges.

"DEARY BELUVERED," he began, "WE COMES HERE TODAY TO SEE DESE TWO FINE YOUNG ORGNISMS YOONITE INNA HOLES OF MATHEMATIMONY. BEIN' YOONITE TOGEDDER IS WUNNERFUL TING. HANS KNOW DIS FOR FACT, 'CUZ HANS SEE HAPPY PEOPLE EAT FOOD TOGEDDER IN RESTERERAUNT, DEY ONE MAN AN' ONE LADY, AND DEY SO HAPPY DEY PRESS LIPS TOGEDDER AN' MAKE DIS SMACKY NOISE! IT BRING TEAR TO HANS' EYE SOMETIME. DIS WUNNERFUL WEDDIN' TING IS WHAT HAPPEN TODAY. AN' DAT IS WHY WE COMES HERE TODAY TO SEE DESE TWO FINE YOUNG ORGNISMS YOONITE! NOW, DO YOU,"

"Chahrles Montgumreah the theaard," replied the groom,

"TAKE DIS LUVELY LADY,"

"Deborah Funterly, teehee," It was not a giggle; simply the words "tee-hee" meant to sound like a giggle.

"TO BE YOU SPESHUL SIGNIF'CANT UDDER WHO ALSO TAKE YOU, TROO SICKASS AND HAT, TIL STOP BREATHING TIME YOU WALK AWAY FROM EACH OTHER?"

To the credit of the soon-to-be-newlyweds, they only paused for a moment to work out the meaning behind the ceremony. Then there was another pause as they remembered their line, it having vanished in the cavernous spaces of their minds. "I do," they both responded, with great reverance and an almost plodding slowness.

"SO, BY POWER VESTED INSIDE HANS' BODY BY GAL'CTIC ACCREDEDIDATION COUNCIL AN' DA GREAT PLANET OF ALTHANAS, HANS NOW PRONOUNS YOU MALE GENETIC INFORMATION DONOR AN' FEMALE GENETIC INFORMATION DONOR. YOU MAY KISS THE LADYFACE."

And so, with a passionate, slightly confused, upper-class kiss, the ceremony ended.

----

It was the reception; Ter-Thok had tugged a discarded tuxedo jacket on over his bloodstained shirt, and was now piling a plate high with buffet fixings. Hans was being treated with polite confusion by the parents of the happy couple as he told a rambling story about the only other wedding he had conducted so far, and overall everything was peaceful. After all, what could possibly spoil a good party?

What indeed...

[Shadar]

You know, you can stop laughing now.

Shadar ignored the voice in his head just like he had ignored everyone sitting near him when he had fallen, in hysterics, out of his seat during the ceremony. That was somewhere around, “TIL STOP BREATHING TIME”. Brigitte had gawked down at him in worry while the other attendees just stared ahead and choked on their own laughter. Thankfully, he had kept the illusion over both of them, despite laughing, of a normal enough man and woman. That was probably due to some help from Jackal, though.

I said stop laughing! the dream demon known as Diamond Jackal shouted loud enough to make the inside of his head rattle.

It wasn’t like Shadar hadn’t been trying. Every time he managed to quiet himself, some cruelly misshapen words would appear in his head. In all the time between the wedding and the reception, he had only managed normal conversation long enough to explain to Brigitte that he wasn’t dying of some strange disease. She had never seen him like this before, and he was practically the only person she had seen in her life of only a few months so far.

“Is this… normal?” she asked him now that he showed some signs of calming down. Her head was cocked to the side in a very bird-like pose, which looked strange given her illusionary appearance of an elegant, yet modest, woman. Her embroidered dress and the few jewels whispered of wealth, but only faintly, and her face was a serene, unblemished mask. The only part that was true to her was her hair, a fiery red that fell to her waist. It would have been hard to hide the length, and changing the coloration felt unnecessary when he had been constructing their disguises.

“This is the farthest thing from normal,” Shadar responded, almost falling over as laughter welled up again. He too looked like he belonged; short black hair, a snobbish face, and a black suit with a few white frills at the cuffs and neck. It wasn’t up to par with the fashions of the day, which would be expected given how long he had been away from civilization, but it worked. Leaning on Brigitte with his hands on her shoulder, he looked quit like a drunken uncle. That would rationalize the laughter as well, though he didn’t care much for what these rich fools thought.

Brigitte just looked at him and grimaced. She had wanted to see a real mortal wedding, not a freak show. As far as she could gather from this society, her and Shadar were freakish enough. “Are the people normal?” she finally asked, turning to face him intently. Annoyance flickered in her eyes, though her hands were still clasped in front of her in a picture of calmness. They had been in that position since the donning of the disguise.

Shadar, finally noticing how serious she was about seeing a wedding, gave her a weak nod. From the beginning of this whole adventure, he had been surprised by her. It only took the mention of a wedding in the town they were passing through, and she practically begged him to go (once he told her what a wedding was). Of course, begging from her tended to involve the implied threat of claws. She’s sure acting funny today, Shadar thought to himself as he watched her wander out into the crowd. The fixed posture and expression made her seem just like another ditzy relative, even if she was getting a little close to people and staring without saying a word.

You’re not taking the hint? shot Jackal in an exasperated tone.

Heh, I know I know, Shadar responded with the barest hint of a blush, But, you know as well as I do that she’s still a child when it comes to thinking about that.

As the internal demon responded, Shadar got the impression that he was shaking his head and shrugging. Don’t underestimate dream creatures. We don’t live by your rules. Or… the rules you used to live by.

The demon’s vessel just let the statement slide right by him. If what he implied was true… No, that wasn’t something he was ready for. The humor was gone now, though, so Shadar would have to find something to distract him from thinking about it. With one last glance at Brigitte, who was creeping out the guests but otherwise causing no harm, he went in search of Ter-Thok. To keep his laugh from drawing too much attention, Jackal had told Brigitte to lead him to the outskirts of the party. So, he had to thread his way through the herd of affluence to get anywhere, let alone find a creature that was short enough for him to accidentally step on.

A few minutes later, he found the demon in an obviously oversized jacket and hampered by the real reason everyone had come to this farce of a wedding. “Hey, stumpy,” he said jovially as he snagged a shrimp from the mountain of food on the demon’s plate. Perhaps playing too much into his snobbish exterior, he bit into the delicate morsel and tossed the tail behind him. There was the faint sound of it landing in something liquid, perhaps someone’s drink. He didn’t really care, for his mind was distracted with the illusion he created. At the perfect volume for only Ter-Thok to hear, a sound was played by his head. (One could only assume that his ear was located somewhere within that chunk of anatomy.) “It’s Shadar. Remember me from the Façade days?” the voice said with almost as much nonchalance as the plain snob who sent it, “Well, anyway, I got a proposition for you. Let’s talk somewhere else to keep the normals from freaking out, though.” Honestly, Shadar didn’t know Ter-Thok that well. He had always been the tech guy, and Shadar the assassin, so their paths didn’t cross too often. But, it would hopefully count enough for him to get what they wanted.

[Ter-Thok]

"-AN' SO DEN, DA GUY PICK UP SIX BOX OF HAM, 'CAUSE GUY HAVE, LIKE, SIX ARMS. HE AN ALLEN, BOSS SAY. SO HE PICK UP HAM, AN' ALL DESE CATS START 'TACKIN' GUY, RIGHT? AN' SO HANS GET WURRIED, SO HANS ASK BOSS IF HANS S'POSED TO DO ANYTHIN', RIGHT? AN' BOSS SAY - GET DIS - 'JUS LAUGH.' HANS HAVE GOOD TIME LAUGHIN' AT MAN WIF SIX HAND GET TORN 'PART BY CATS, HO HO HO," As Hans' anecdote ended, there was a polite, if utterly confused, chuckle from his captive audience of high-class morons. Ter-Thok, who was lounging at maximum disrespect in a chair between a pretty young bridesmaid and a grandfather whose moustache dangled almost to the floor, snickered and got up to refill his plate from the buffet.

Walking back to the bubble of bemused conversation dominated by a seven-foot dollop of red gelatin, the demon heard a voice just above him addressing him in a rather familiar, if not condescending, manner. A rich-looking hand descended from above, snagged a wonderful, plump prawn, and vanished again. Just as Ter-Thok was about to apply his horns to the appropriate seam in the man's pants, a voice seemed to emanate directly from the air around him. The demon shifted his gaze upwards, taking in the pair of sneering nostrils that he assumed created the voice. The look lasted longer than perhaps any similar look should have, before Ter-Thok's brow furrowed slightly and he nodded his head slowly.

"Yes, I...have no idea what the tee-total monkeypiss you're talking about. For a minute there I considered playing along with your whacked-out delusions, since it's unlikely you've mistaken me for someone else, but uh, no, I think I'll just tell you straight-up that I've never met any Shader, and I have no idea what 'Fuh Sawed Days' are. You, uh...you're probably crazy. Excuse me, amigo." Ter-Thok turned awkwardly, bemused, and began placing hor's douvres in his mouth by the fistful, occasionally glancing back to see if the lunatic was still behind him. He chewed industriously.

----

Hans had excused himself for a bathroom break. No living thing, save for Hans and others of his species, knew what an ooze did in the bathroom; this is because they value their sanity. Wiping his pseudopods uselessly on a ragged towel, the ooze's massive black eyes were attracted by a movement. Looking up, Hans saw a strange young lady, hands clasped motionlessly in front of her and face oddly perfect inspecting the wedding-goers. Something about the girl seemed to scrape against Hans' rather meager mental faculties.

Despite his...condition, or perhaps because of it, some things reached Hans that often went unnoticed by those of higher faculties. Something about the woman made him think of...feathers? Well, there was nothing for it but to speak with her. Hans thought back to those moving pictures Ter-Thok had shown him; how did one properly greet a lady? Oh, yes, that's right.

"WHAT PURTY FEMALE ORGNISM LIKE YOU FACE DOING IN PLACE LIKE DIS LUVELY MARRERERAGE? HA HA, HANS JUST KID, HANS NOT REALLY CARE 'BOUT YOU. HANS JUS' WANT TALK AT YOU, AN' IT IMPORTANT TO TREAT DOSE PEOPLE WIF GIRL PARTS PORPERLY. DAT IS ADMRABLBLE AN' KIND. WHAT IS WORD DAT IS USED TO TALK 'BOUT YOU?"

[Shadar]

It was good that Shadar had already swallowed the shrimp, lest he choke on it in confusion. Am I that easy to forget? he asked himself dumbly as he raised a hand to his forehead. The guy who kills things and has a freakin’ voice in his head. How can he NOT remember me from those days?

The dream demon coughed, a prelude to his ‘instructor’ voice. Alternate universes, my good man.

Shadar just waited for wherever this was going, though he was ready to drop the ax on it at a moment’s notice. People started to look at him a little peculiarly, seeing as he was just standing stiff and staring straight ahead.

The demon continued, amid an internal vision of a chalkboard with cryptic writing. You see, for every alternate variation of reality, there exists such a universe somewhere. Where isn’t really relevant, seeing as physical space becomes moot this far above everything.

Uh huh…, Shadar said impatiently, But, we never went to another one. We just spent some time… above it?

Oh, but are you sure? When moving between levels of existence, some rather inconsequential things can shift. That red munchkin there seems like just one of those inconsequential things.

So… he was never in the Façade?

Nope, probably not. I’d be on the lookout for other stuff that’s different too. Who knows? You could have a seven foot tall, six hundred pound orcish wife in this version of your universe.

Shadar’s face twisted in disgust, causing those near him to wonder if there was something wrong with the shrimp. I really don’t think-

The demon was on a roll, though. I bet she’s wandering all over Corone with a rolling pin in her hand that was fashioned from a solid tree. Just looking for you, her darling hubby. Oh, how she’ll beat you with it when she finds you, and what about that strumpet of a harpy on your arm? You’re bloody well doomed!

Shut!

And what about your six ugly, puss-spewing children? She’s got to take care of them all by herself! It’s not enough for you just to give her the seed, though I’m sure that the act of procreation lent itself to broken limbs and a crushed pelvis many times over. You’ve gotta be there for the kids, dad! Think about all the teasing they’ll get at school looking like they do!

With a great mental strain, Shadar pushed the rambling away. Now, it was only a dull roar of idiocy. “Ok,” he snapped at Ter-Thok, perhaps a bit louder than necessary, as he walked up behind him. “Let’s forget about the Façade. I don’t want to have to explain this, but I’m pretty sure that whatever you’re like in this world, you’ve still got what I want.” At this point, he no longer cared that others were listening. He was going to blurt it out and they’d just have to deal with it by gulping down more wine. “I want weapons, high-tech weapons,” Shadar said with barely contained lust in his eyes and voice, “And I know you have them. You’re from another planet, after all, right? The other Ter-Thok I knew was practically swimming in crap that could turn people to ash or pull a building down on itself. I’ll offer whatever services you need if I can get my hands on some of that stuff.” There was a dangerous tone to his voice, as if refusing his request would be a bad idea.

----

Lolling her head from side to side, as if neither angle was comfortable for very long, Brigitte stared up at the pimentos in this big glob of jelly. Those seemed to be eyes… or at least resembling them. The words that came out of this thing’s bulk were even harder to understand. Some bits of phrase, which she could actually decipher, would have earned this thing a slashing if not for the utterly random gibberish that accompanied it.

Over the time span of about half a minute, Brigitte opened her mouth a dozen times to respond. But, nothing came to mind. She was half suspecting that, whatever she said, it would come out in the same garbled mess that this thing spoke in. So, to avoid that situation, she finally decided to stop chewing the air and just leave. Hands still clasped and face still serene, though her eyes burned with annoyance, she walked around the main crowd of the party and looked over them for Shadar. Maybe he’d know what to do when accosted by a blob of red mucus.

[Ter-Thok]

(Regretably necessary powergaming approved by Shadar)

The demon jumped slightly, a few canapes tumbling down from his plate. Ter-Thok turned to face the potentially insane gentleman once again, confused slightly at the words "this world"; however, any reluctance disappeared at the mention of weaponry. The demon listened politely, carefully set his dish down on a snoring man's knees, and grabbed a handful of the bizarre man's coat; the fabric felt significantly thicker than it looked, but that mattered little at the time. With a tug, he began dragging the upperclass twit towards a balcony overlooking the ocean.

The stars were out in force, and the only light was that of a few flickering torches mounted on the wrought-iron fence. The demon looked around, seeing the last flirtatious couple snuggle their way back inside, then began floating, rising until he was eye-to-eye with the deranged individual. "Listen," he began, "I don't know how you know me, or anything about me, compadre, nor do I know what you mean by 'other Ter-Thok', since I'm the only me I know of, but crazy or not, I respect a guy's need for high-powered shit-blower-uppers, even if he is dumb enough to talk about them in a crowded room,"

The demon settled himself down on a low pillar surrounded by plush red curtains, and stared hard at the human for a few moments. "Alright, look," he said, finally, "I haven't got anything on me nastier than my Electro-Prod. But, I know a guy. It'll just mean a little trip, tu sabes? Meet me at the entrance of this joint in twenty minutes. Then we'll see where it goes from there,"

Ter-Thok grinned slyly, continuing "Just take off that monkeysuit first, amigo. It won't do you a finger of good where we're going."

----

Hans was confused. He was used to unusual reactions from new people. Rage, fear, and bewilderment were all par for the course. Just gaping like a delicious salmon for a few minutes, then walking away, was not a response Hans was accustomed to, not to mention that it simply bolstered the impression that the woman was something more than she appeared. Hans followed her, travelling almost uncomfortably close to her.

"OH, HANS GET IT!" the ooze shouted after a while, "GIRL JUS' PLAY 'HARD TO GET' FOR SOME REASONIN'. HANS NOT CARE 'BOUT DAT. LADY, HANS WANT KNOW WHY HANS SMELL BIRD WHEN HANS NEAR LADY. LADY WEAR BIRD LEAVIN'S ON SKIN LIKE SOAP? DAT HILARIOUS, SOMETIME. APPLES. HEE HEE." Hans reached forward, playfully, and prodded the woman in the small of the back with a pseudopod.

[Shadar]

The things I have to put up with, Shadar groaned to himself after being dragged away by a waist-high pimple of a demon and then berated by him, all the while having the voice in his head going on about the not-so-perfect family. Had it moved to the topic of in-laws by now? Shaking his head, Shadar pushed down the curiosity and kept Jackal at the back of his mind.

“I wouldn’t have to talk about it in a crowded room if you had just listened the first time,” he growled under his breath at the demon’s scolding. But, he let it slide. There were more important things. ‘High-powered shit-blower-upper’ things, to be exact. Thankfully, the space demon seemed open to the idea. He had been expecting more resistance. Actually, he hadn’t been expecting this to work at all. It was just an idea that struck him when he saw Ter-Thok again, or he thought it was again. Ah, screw it. I’ll just say I’ve never seen him before.

Feeling quite proud of how bloodless his clothing was at that moment, he went back to the main party room where he stopped at the entrance and looked at the throng of drunken snobs. With a little concentration, he looked at not who they were, but at their souls. It appeared just as a glowing effect around each body, but he could sense them somewhat when he looked closely. If he had to compare it to a true sense, it was more taste than anything, and all these people tasted flavorful but very unfulfilling. There was a single soul that he was looking for, an earthy and soft one. He found it right next to the creature that looked and tasted of jelly.

Brigitte froze, her form rigid as she felt something squishy poke at her spine. Underneath the illusion, her face took on the most disgusted look possible. She could sense this creature’s emotions, just as she could with any being she touched. It was how she gained strength from Shadar. But, as playful and innocent as this sensation seemed, it was unwelcome… not to mention just plain icky.

With a vulture-like shriek that sent the nearby humans reeling, she leapt up into the air. The illusion still stayed fixed, but her wings phased out of it now. Like wrapping paper, they peeled back from having been hugged around her. Then, with a powerful thrust, she shot into the air and turned on the blob. Hovering there like a Christmas tree angel given life, she studied her enemy only to realize that she had no idea how to attack him, so she retreated slightly and set herself down on the closest clear platform. It just happened that the chosen platform was the buffet table, and more specifically, the remnants of the cake. Gagging from the sensation, she quickly hopped off of it, leaving large talon prints.

Then, there was that time that you all went to her family reunion. They probably don’t like you, seeing as you’re so puny. You must have gotten beaten up by every male relative a hundred times over, and just to make it more humiliating, they beat you with their huge di- Holy shit! What’d I miss?!

You know what they say about birds when they get sticky stuff on their feet, Shadar responded tensely as he readied himself to intercept whatever carnage would come from this. Jumping up above the heads of the nearest startled party goers, he used their aforementioned heads as a springboard to launch himself into the air. At the apex of his leap, a good 20 feet in the air, he shifted his weight forward and glided as if a kite had suddenly spawned on his back.

Brigitte stood to the side of the ruined cake now, her shoulders shaking with the creepy crawly sensation of the mushy icing in every crevice and wrinkle of her bird-like feet. Her glare was so potent that, despite the illusion, anyone who saw her would get the message. She was going to clean her talons, even if all she had to use was the closest bodies. Shrieking a single war cry, she rose into the air again, and was promptly tackled from the side by a flying gentleman in a frilly suit. Both of them careened to the ground behind the table, though the man somehow managed to slow their fall and get under her so as to lead directly into running with her in his arms. He didn’t stop until they were out the front door and well away from the slack-jawed crowd.

----

Minutes later, Shadar and Brigitte sat at the edge of a decorative pond on the grounds leading up to the reception hall. Their illusions were gone. Shadar sat cross-legged at the water’s edge and brought a handful of it to his face and through his short silver hair. It ran quickly over his half-elven ears and down his neck, where he quickly caught it with his gloved hands and strangely absorbed every drop of it into the inky fabric. He then straightened his open, sleeveless black coat and settled is squarely over the white woolen shirt underneath it. “I know the illusions don’t really do anything, but it feels so much better to be rid of them,” he said to Brigitte.

She gave a quick nod, causing her fiery hair to sway around her face that was no longer serene. It was fierce, yet beautiful, like an Amazon warrior. As she dangled her talons in the pond, she reclined back slightly and relaxed her wings in place of arms. Normally, she’d be reluctant to expose her impressive, yet featureless bosom as such, but there was no one around to see. They were quite a distance from the path people used to enter and leave this place. After another minute of silence, the harpy asked, “Can you take me to a real wedding, someday?”

“Sure,” Shadar responded with a quiet chuckle. She apparently wasn’t going to give up, and he wasn’t about to fight her on it.

“We’ve got shit to do first, birdy,” said the air in front of them as Jackal’s illusion appeared hovering over the pond’s surface. The starlight cast his purple fur in a disturbing light, though his eyes of flame and the smile on his human yet animalistic muzzle were far more startling to look at.

With a snort, Brigitte kicked water up at him and wasn’t the least bit surprised when it went clean through without affecting his red robes. She was just disappointed. “Why do you insist on talking to me?” she asked bitterly of the creature that had been responsible for her birth.

Jackal just stuck his tongue out at her then continued by looking at Shadar, “Only a few minutes until we’re supposed to meet Little Red.”

“Ha! Little Red. I should remember that one,” Shadar responded with the remnants of the day’s laughter. He seemed to be running dry after the ceremony and its effect on him. The harpy made a disgruntled sound upon seeing them getting along, so he put a hand on her feathered back and said gently, “We really should get going. I made a deal with Ter-Thok and we’ve got a little more traveling to do tonight.” Brigitte just stood with him and wrapped her wings about his shoulder as they walked. She didn’t need reasons to follow him, but the fact that Shadar continually offered them did make her smile.

Shortly, they would reach the gate that Ter-Thok had pointed out as the meeting place. Shadar, envisioning the confusion that might follow if they approached undisguised, placed their guises momentarily over them. Once he was sure Ter-Thok had seen and recognized them, he’d drop the charade and probably enjoy whatever response it elicited.

[Ter-Thok]

The narrow stream followed the path down from the reception hall, gurgling as it was tugged downhill. It was accompanied by the gentle hum and sizzle of summer insects prowling through the grass and trees. Had other things not been occupying his thoughts, Ter-Thok would have appreciated the natural symphony surrounding him. As it happened, however, something was not sitting right with the demon; he was more than willing to help this lunatic purchase some weaponry, but that didn't explain how said lunatic knew Ter-Thok's name, and behaved so familiarly towards him. The demon bit his lower lip slightly, thoughtfully tossing a pilfered apricot back and forth between his hands.

"Hans," Ter-Thok said, finally.

"YES, BOSS?" the ooze responded, rapidly closing the slight gap that had developed between the two as they were walking.

"I'm not sure I trust this guy. He needs something from us, right?"

"YES, DAT WOULD BE WHAT BOSS TELL HANS."

"But he doesn't seem to have anything that we would want, unless there's a card he's not playin' yet. Ten cuidado, Hans."

"HANS LOOK OUT FOR ANY CARDS DAT'S PLAYIN', BOSS."

"Good. Oh, shit, there he is...and his freakish bird-woman. Way to ruin a buffet, bitch,"

"HEEHEE, HANS RIGHT. BIRD-STINK-LADY HAVE FEDDERS."

The two drew closer to their prospective clients; Ter-Thok wasn't smiling. He looked the man up and down, shrugged, and said, "Well, I guess that's that. One party ruined, and someone looking to buy supplies to ruin another. Let's make some introductions before we head to my ship, shall we? As you...somehow know, I am Ter-Thok, from the planet Abyss, and a demon assigned here for...certain purposes. This is my employee, Hans, he's not incredibly intelligent, but he's not terrible company and he can break an elephant in half.

"You said your name was something like...Shatter? Whatever. Who's the, eh-hem, lovely lady with the unfortunate growths on her back?"

[Shadar]

Shadar couldn’t help but look a bit disappointed that their true forms didn’t phase the demon. But, Ter-Thok had probably seen stranger things in his life. He did travel with an elephant-breaking blob, after all. I wonder if they ever actually proved that claim, he thought distractedly, and a his mouth quirked up with a bit of morbid amusement.

“Growths?” Brigitte said to the demon in a shocked tone. “They’re wings, you little worm.” She shifted away from Shadar and spread them to prove her point. The overreaction was probably due to Jackal appearing earlier, which meant that this little joke would be even less appreciated.

“Hey, hot stuff!” whistled a voice from down the path behind Ter-Thok. For just an instant, the purple demon appeared there and made a few crude gestures, then disappeared.

With a startled squawk, Brigitte hugged her wings around her chest again and glared heatedly into the distance where the illusion had once stood. “I might be able to forget it for just a few minutes if it wasn’t for him,” she growled as Shadar stepped closer to her. But, she didn’t turn to him. Just as she fed off his energy, he fed off hers. So, he could feel, even without touching her, the anger that radiated through her. It was best to take the attention off of her.

“Her name’s Brigitte,” he said as he took a step toward Ter-Thok, “and I’m Shadar.” He paused a moment as he seemed to contemplate something. “Don’t ask me how I know this, and I know I’ll probably be saying that a lot, but I know your trouble with names goes way beyond ‘Shatter’. So, take this.” Out of the air, he seemed to pull a small piece of paper. In that same move, he handed it to the demon. “Spelled them phonetically too.” On the paper were their names in both real and phonetic spelling. “I advise that you at least get hers right,” he said warningly in a voice too low for the brooding harpy to hear, “She not as easygoing as me, and her talons are very sharp.”

“My name’s not on there!” complained the dream demon as he materialized with hands on Shadar’s shoulder as if he was pushing himself up to get a birds eye view of the note.

Shadar flinched out from under him, for Jackal had put a bit of tactual sense into the illusion as well, making it feel like his shoulder was now itchy under the skin. Sighing, he looked away from both the red and the purple demon and muttered, “The fuzzy freak’s Diamond Jackal. Call him whatever you want, though. Kudos to you if you can make him cry.”

Teeth bared, Jackal stared at Shadar’s back as he continued to hover in the air where he had appeared. After a moment, he turned to look at Ter-Thok and seemed to run out of words. Apparently, this wasn’t the big entrance he had been planning.

“So, this ship…” Shadar said as he went back to Brigitte’s side and offered an arm. She wrapped her wings about it this time, though her vengeful glare now shot at Jackal’s illusion and somewhat at Ter-Thok as a warning. “Does that mean we’ll be crossing water to find this guy,” Shadar continued as he tried to send calmness over their bond. The fire diminished in Brigitte’s eyes, though only slightly, and she shot him a glance that he couldn’t differentiate between thankful or irritated.

[Ter-Thok]

Now that he was actually paying attention to his new clients, as opposed to retaining his cool, he noticed that they appeared...different. At first, it simply seemed that the well-dressed twit from before had donned the apparel of a cat-burglar, and his little girlfriend had clad herself in furry pants and a bizarre shawl. However, clearly, some facial features and of course, the nature of their species, were different from before. The demon was not one to be easily shocked by such things; hell, he'd managed to rig a hologram projector to disguise himself as a creature with three heads and one-and-one-half of an anus, in the Case of the Planet of the Creatures with Three Heads and One and One-Half of an Anus. That was...best not to be reminisced about.

Ter-Thok sniffed, his rather casual attitude from the party covered by the air of a consumate professional, and glared upwards at the hairy, purple cano-humanoid, then crushed the piece of paper he had recieved into that exact angular-sphere shape that all pieces of paper take when crumpled. He tossed it into the stream, and looked Shadar directly in the eye. "Hmph. Now that you have enlightened me as to the appropriate pronunciation, I'm sure there will be no difficulties, Señor Shadar. And if he'll be coming along as well, then I'm gonna need to be assured that your...crazy teleporting purple pet is properly housetrained. Gods know that it took Hans quite a long time to realize not to leave...whatever he leaves all over the place. Right, Hans?"

"DAT RIGHT, BOSS," Hans replied, having snuck closer to the bird-lass, examining her critically, a pseudopod to where he would have a chin, "BUT HANS KNOW DAT LEAVIN'S IS TO BE LEFT IN DA LEAVIN' LEAVER. DEN YOU PUSH DA LEVER."

"That's good, Hans. Now, Mr. Shadar, allow me to explain the nature of the ship. See, we won't be crossing any water; no, what you want isnt...accessible on this planet, exactly. My ship, Captain Hobblong's Schooner, is what we tend to call a 'spaceship'. It flies through, eh-hem, that." Ter-Thok extended his index finger upwards, and grinned. "Now, the specific planet I have in mind for you to acquire the sort of weaponry you might want is known as Jereska. It's the closest technologically advanced planet to this one, just past a narrow asteroid belt. Oh, and we'll have to navigate around that supernova...forgot about that..." Still mentally laying a course, the demon dug around in his pockets for a moment.

Extracting something resembling a square of bluish plastic with a bit of piping across the top, Ter-Thok smiled. He tapped it a few times, and the glow it emitted altered. The demon pulled an antenna out of the piping, wiggled it around, and nodded approvingly when it emitted a cheerful beep. "Alright señor, señorita, and...beast of burden. And Hans. If you will wait patiently here, we are rather close to the forest of Concordia, so it shouldn't take too-"

While the next word he was about to say should be fairly obvious, it was covered by a dull roar. An enormous metal hulk, roughly ovular with a flattened back and bottom, crested over the treeline and drifted rapidly overhead. Clothes whipping as the craft lowered onto a small field which, as it turned out, was slightly too small. Several trees bent gently under the steel behemoth. A hatch popped open on one side, and a set of stairs slinked out. There was a puff of steam from the ship, which is required of all spacecraft by the Third Provincial Decree of Clichenia, and came to rest.

"Now, clients," Ter-Thok crossed to the stairs and climbed a few, hand resting on a railing, "If you'd care to come aboard, we can disembark. It's about three hours' ride to Jereska. There's a couch in the main compartment for your little lady, I can probably find a cushion for your dog, and...you'll ride in the cockpit with me. We need to have a conversation about these weapons. Hans, you'll just sit in the back with Brigitte. I'll pop a movie in for you two. Now, shall we?" The demon smirked one last time, then hopped up through the hatch.

[Shadar]

“I-I’m housetrained!” Jackal sputtered indignantly, “Wait, no, I don’t even need to be housetrained. I’m a freakin’ god! Don’t you dare… uh… say that!” With his voice at a new level of abnoxiousness, it seemed very much a child’s rant.

“Ooooh, impressive,” Shadar said to Ter-Thok. Then, to Jackal, he snidely remarked, “He’ll make you cry yet.”

Brigitte said nothing, but the smug grin on her face could have driven any irritated child into a full-blown tantrum. She didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing it, though, as Jackal disappeared with only a snarl.

Before any more arguing could ensue, Ter-Thok explained their destination. Shadar understood some of it… when he didn’t simply stare at the sky in awe. Jackal had told him before about planets and solar systems (though it was still hard to believe that Althanas moved around the sun and not vice versa). The idea of actually going into that speckled blackness was too much to comprehend.

Then came something far easier to understand and appreciate. Like an unlit phoenix, a huge shape roared over the trees and set down with some minor botanical damage. At this range, it looked more like a giant’s toenail than a phoenix, if toenails could belch smoke. With mouth hanging open, eyes popping, and heart almost at a standstill, Shadar took in everything about the craft and felt a headache starting. How did it fly? What was it made of? Could he have one?

Brigitte was a bit less impressed. She eyed the thing nervously, perhaps expecting it to attack them or at the very least explode. Ter-Thok’s instructions didn’t comfort her much, and the part about sitting with Hans made her wrinkle up her nose as if at a bad smell. She looked up over Shadar’s shoulder to ask one of the million questions; first being “Do I have to?”. But, he was only there for a second. The harpy stumbled forward into the suddenly vacant space and gawked at his flaring coat as he shot toward the craft while hovering a few inches above the ground. It was an ability he already possessed, but elation probably would have granted it to him otherwise. Faintly, she thought she heard childish squeals.

Ter-Thok and Hans entered the hatch. The dream mage, on the other hand, threw himself straight at the hull like it was the chest of a long lost father. “Amazing,” he gasped after bracing himself so hard against it that his hands hurt. The pain didn’t register in the slightest. “Metal… doesn’t look familiar,” he mused quietly, a scholar over an ancient tome now. “It’s strong. If only I…” At his words, the surface of his gloves began to shift like ripples in a pond and the smallest amount of material phased into the hull. It was quickly followed by a yelp as Shadar jumped back, his palms red like dying embers. Wincing, he shook them as if to cool them.

Heh, idiot. Should I start screaming ‘attempted theft’?

Shut up! I just got carried away… Shadar snapped irritably. Turning away from the ship, he held both hands close to his chest with palms up and the blackness shifted again. The water he had absorbed from the pond welled up over his hands, sending off a barely audible hiss of steam and darkening his red hands to black again. Then, the remaining moisture was reabsorbed. Feeling quite innocent now, Shadar looked up to see Brigitte standing almost on his toes with her eyes narrowed at his gloves.

“That was rude,” she hissed as she looked into his face. There was fire in her eyes to put his once-burning hands to shame.

Boyishly, Shadar smiled and cast his eyes down. “Sorry,” was all he muttered, then he waited for any other verbal lashings she had for him. None came, so he offered an arm and said, “He’s waiting for us.” The harpy sniffed and flippantly tossed her wings about herself before walking up the steps alone.

In the back of his head, Shadar saw an image of a metal fixed-wing vehicle falling from the clouds with swarms of bullets around it and the words “Shot down!” in bright neon. One eye twitched, but he kept his thoughts silent. Hopefully, this was a simple insult and not a premonition. Swallowing a momentary bout of fear, he walked up the stairs, making sure the whole way to not absorb the railing made of that delicious metal.

[Ter-Thok]

A small screen just above the main viewport blinked, displaying the rather huffy ingress of the birdwoman, and the awed boarding of her human-looking compatriot. Ter-Thok grinned and adjusted the tilt of the screen. The demon threw himself heavily into a plush chair; the manatee leather was just beginning to crack around the edges of the backrest, but overall the seat (built, by the way, for someone twice Ter-Thok's size) was in good condition. The same could not be said for the passenger's seat: despite the fact that they do not figure into modern chair design in the slightest, a spring was sticking out of the bottom, surrounding by clumps of fuzzy foam. It's leather was ripped, and there was a large percentage of iridescent green tape covering it. There were even a handful of reddish splotches from an unsuccessful attempt by Hans to park himself on it's cushions.

A perfunctory whistle and pointed gesture towards the less comfortable of the two cockpit seats was all Ter-Thok spared in order to draw his client's attention to the seating arrangements before turning his attention to the controls. Several taps on the buttons surrounding the control yoke brought up the heads-up on the windshield. Ter-Thok ran a finger over the interior of the window, bringing up the starcharts. "Ah, right, right. Jereska...not Jeleska. Jeleska's the place with the soul-walruses...probably wouldn't be fun to pop by there...ah! Here we go. Now...plot the course...start movie for Hans..." The demon poked his head into the main compartment for a moment, inquiring, "Hey, Hans, whaddayou wanna watch?"

"HANS WANT WATCH "THE BRAVEST GOAT IN LEFT ANGELES"!"

"Aha, okay, Hans..." the demon encouraged, before re-situating himself and grabbing the ship's yoke. "One of these days I need to tell him that there's no movie called that. I'll just shove in that shitty human romance thing from the default library. Your, uh..."old lady" will enjoy that, right, Señor Shadar? Well, I'm not sure I really care. But go on, take a seat, and tell me; why, exactly, are you currently in the market for weapons...beyond this planet's means?" One hairless eyebrow raised, Ter-Thok flipped a switch on the control panel and sent the ship hurtling comfortably into the air.

[Shadar]

“Hm, a romance?” Shadar huffed, “Sure, she’d like that.” He barely kept the chuckle out of his voice. At that moment, he was more amused that worried about her being in the back with Hans. He hadn’t done anything that bad. Maybe some time with the blob would remind her how good he was… most of the time.

Awkwardly, he looked at the chair Ter-Thok offered to him. It was hideous. So much so, in fact, that it was the only thing he could stare at in this room full of high-tech doodads and mysterious buttons. Perhaps it was for the best. He needed to keep his hands to himself from now on, anyway. “I’ll just stand,” he said as he took up a position next to the chair and crossed his arms. With the disgusting lump of furniture out of his vision, he returned to being amazed. This time at the star charts that appeared on the windshield. They looked a lot like an astronomer’s book. But, he would actually be going to one of those dots somewhere out in the sky. Another thrill of expedition went through him.

The craft lifted off, then. Shadar braced himself, though he didn’t appear to move. The air touching him simply turned more solid. If the ship rocketed away from a standstill, he probably would have stayed right in that spot. But, its liftoff was far gentler, perhaps even more so than a horse yanking a carriage into motion. Shadar feigned interest in the aerial scenery (he spent enough time in the clouds to not be impressed for long) as he thought on the question. “I’ve got a lot of enemies,” he finally answered, “Though they don’t know yet that I’m back or even that I’m their enemy. Surprise will be my weapon when I strike.” As he spoke, a smug smile crossed his face. He was confident in his abilities, perhaps more so than reasonable, but he could still use a little power as backup. “A hail of… lasers or whatever they’re called would be a great way to get the show started.”

Speaking of shows, Brigitte was not enjoying hers. She had really only watched the screen long enough to realize that the man and woman upon it were not a threat. The focus of her attention, though she didn’t look directly, was the red blob of a couchmate. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to take a seat there, but she was too annoyed at the moment to stand as she brooded. Shifting as best she could without getting claws through the cushions, she stared through the screen with eyebrows lowered and mouth tense. “Stupid,” she muttered under her breath.

“Hey, don’t be rude. He’s sitting right next to you,” said a sarcastic voice right at her ear. It took only a split second to realize that it was one of Jackal’s audible illusions. Even when Shadar wasn’t near (which was indeed rare…) the dream demon still seemed to know where she was and what she was doing.

“You know who I’m talking about,” she spitefully whispered so as to not be overheard by Hans, “But, the blob’s stupid too. Shadar’s so immature someti-“

“Oh, big whoop. He’s letting all this ‘born again’ crap go to his head. Maybe all he needs is to have some sense knocked into him, eh?” Jackal said suggestively, apparently not realizing that Brigitte had stopped paying attention.

The couple on screen had just shared a chaste kiss, a quick but significant meeting of lips. Brigitte cocked her head to one side as she thought and unconsciously put her bottom lip under her teeth. He’d never done that with her…

[Ter-Thok]

The pale blue sky of the upper atmosphere faded gradually as the line of the horizon curved away, until the ship was sitting above a god's marble, with wisps of cloud hovering over a nigh-incomprehensible blending of greens, blues and browns. Ter-Thok drummed his fingers absent-mindedly on the control panels as the planet fell below, leaving the scene a field of endless stars, with one much brighter orb hanging to the bottom left. "Okay, so, the sun is behind us...asteroid belt is..." the demon's finger traced along the starchart projections, "That way. Sorry amigo, we're making a pit stop. I haven't eaten today. Maybe we'll grab somethin' for you, too. Hey, how come you don't want to sit-" Ter-Thok glanced up from his piloting as the ship lurched forward slightly, the stars appearing to move as the vessel began moving.

"Oh. Right. That's the bad chair. Just a sec, lemme fix it," A skinny red arm reached under the seat, feeling around until the three fingers closed on a lever. The demon tugged on it until he felt the click, then returned his attention to piloting the ship. The rather repulsive chair began folding itself downwards until it was below the level of the deck, and a bulkhead hissed shut over it. Almost immediately, a new chair was lowered delicately from the ceiling and clamped into place. A tiny mechanical claw lowered from the ceiling, gripped the crinkling plastic wrap covering the new seat, and yanked it off hurriedly before disappearing back into the hull. "Fancy, huh?" Ter-Thok grinned. There was a dark band obscuring the stars directly ahead.

As the ship approached, it was clear that the band was made up of country-sized stones, the relic of some ancient planetary catastrophe. They tumbled, slowly, bumping each other but generally remaining in the same place. One of the asteroids appeared to be substantially removed from the central, impossibly long belt. A line of starships inched through a massive hole directly through the center of the rock, above which was a brightly illuminated sign. It flickered rapidly between approximately thirty different languages, but for the brief moment it was in the language known to Althanians as Common, it read "MacGyorkGyorkGyorkMeeork's Edible Substance Vassalry". Ter-Thok angled his cruiser towards the queue.

"Didn't expect a line, but whatever. So...secret enemies, huh? Hm. I would suggest, for that sort of situation, that you purchase some kind of...mobile death cannon sort of device," Just ahead, a ship zoomed out of the fast-foodsteroid, and the line accelerated forward, "They're illegal in most...hell, in most of the galaxy, but that's the wonderful thing about a primitive planet; no regulations on doomsday devices, weapons of mass stuff-breakage, or genetically engineered killsoldiers. Man, I don't know how you knew about me, amigo, but you definitely picked the right demon to snag you weaponry."

In the rear portion of the ship, there was a situation. Hans, having made an ill-advised endeavour to sit on the lounge-room couch, was growing bored. Sure, the humans on the screen were pressing their faces together, but where was the action? Hans had, in a very short time, gone from hunting badgers in a primeval forest to seeing the wonders of the universe alongside a generous and helpful employer. He wanted to see explosions. And clearly the larger human's attempts to suck the life from his smaller companion were misguided, as Hans knew that you couldn't drain life-force by pressing firmly against the lips. That just causes suffocation, which tends to render the meat dry and useless.

Hans settled in his seat, itching to get up and undulate around. He glanced towards the birdwoman nearby, and tapped her heavily on the shoulder with a large, gooey pseudopod. "HEY. ARE WE AT PLACE YET? HANS IS TOTE LEE BORED. WINGLADY WANT PLAY VIDDERORO GAME?"