The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Kyle

"Hi Mrs. Kent. I don't know if you remember me but I'm Kyle Matthews. I was out here about a year ago with my grandfather. Well, I was just over at the McCrimmon place with kara and Rose, and a man walked up with some car trouble. Said he was a doctor and he needed to get to the hospital, but his car is stuck in the ditch. I was wondering if Mr. Kent could give him a pull out with his tractor?"

Hopefully Mr. Kent was around and we could get this man on his way. He was most likely needed at the hospital pretty bad.

 

[AmenRa]

I, Whom the Gods Would Destroy

It is upon nothingness that I step. Upon this plane, within this place, I simply Am.

Bound forever unto the mortal Blake, I share a prison with myself, stepped forth from Asgard as a god, but seeking humility among the mortals of Midgard.

For here I am cast, apart from my father's house doth I reign, knowing only when summoned shall I once again wield mighty Mjonir as was mine destiny.

Also unto this destiny written is the story of my Bound Brother, the mortal with whom I share kind and kin, for he is a healer, and yea though I do see an Earth that must be healed. And as there is honor and goodness within his heart, mine is gladdened, for it was my father's wisdom that I should share this bond with he.

Lo, yet Blake doth not know the things past, the legends and prophecies passed from those before. He knows not the signs of Doomsday. For this I have seen, marked upon the fair maiden who's bracer bears the Rune, and now it must be told.

It is mine to travel, to call upon Blake so that he may make us whole, and to Asgard we shall go. And we shall speak with the Allfather, and we shall tell him of the sign, and he shall judge.

And in that we shall carry out his judgement upon Midgard.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

Rose McCrimmon hugged Kara tightly, closing her eyes tighter still as the extraterrestrial beauty wrapped her up in those impossibly powerful impossibly gentle arms.

"Sorry I almost turned Kyle into a pancake. We'll meet you at the hospital," Kara said before backing away. She took one last look over at the doc before taking off in a light sprint.

Rose watched her go 'till she was out of sight, and risked whispering something, risked whispering under her breath and praying to God that Kara could at least hear her, if she couldn't read minds...

"Be safe," she whispered. "See you there. (I don't think either of us bear a grudge.) Just be safe."

Then she jogged around to the other side of the car, to the passenger side, and fired a tight little nervous grin at Doctor Donald Blake.

"Okay," she declared, "that's enough of that. Time and tide and severe neurological inflammation wait for no man, is that right?"

She pulled the door open and slid in, belting up.

And took another look in the direction in which Kara had run, offered up another whispered benediction: "Go baby go."

 

[Wyldfire]

Diana slept but not fitfully. Her dreams were strange in so many ways. Her in the full mantle aside several others. An Archer, a boy who ran at super speed, one who could breath the water he swam in like a torpedo. It was like she knew them all. Very strange. Kara was there too in a little blue and red costume. She couldn't quite understand that.

Then there was the first of the men. He had the same kind of kind eyes Kara had, but he was clearly six feet tall, hair that matched her own raven. He was a gentle soul. His lips felt like velvet against her lips. He had many other treasures that went by in flashes. Diana's body responded to them and she moaned in her sleep.

But as with all things in this chaos in her head the other foot fell and the honeymoon was over in that time. There was a small amount of pain in the passing about it. He and she just weren't compatible. He was too gentle and with the things happening in her life she was getting harder.

She tossed and thrashed in her enforced sleep until the fogs cleared away once more. This time the man she had in her arms wore dark colors over his skin with it dark hair. As handsome as the first, but in so many ways almost the complete opposite of Kal. Kal? Yes that had been the first man's name. Kal had been tender and nice. Understanding his power over the normal citizenry. This new man commanded respect and in many ways adoration. Strong and fair, but not unable to use the necessary force to save any and all that needed it.

He had a commanding and controlling aspect to himself as well, but then you need an alpha in a bonding, and there were times in this fever dream that he was the alpha, but there were also times when He bowed back and allowed Diana to lead.

In both segments of the dream there were times of battle as well as times of other things. Things that even in this enforced dream caused things in her lower body to tighten, occasionally forcing out a moan.

But as the first coupling ended so did this one. A major argument, harsh hard words were said and Diana was on her own again.

The fog came over her and in that fog she bellowed "Enough! I will be free!"

With a massive build up of her will power she forced her way up and out of the drug induced sleep with all her power "NO more I say!" were the words that came from her voice as she sat bolt upright.

 

[ChasNicollette]

John and Ted

John slept.

He hadn't always gotten along with Dream-who-had-been-Morpheus, but they'd ended their first business on a somewhat even keel. He and Death, however, were like old schoolchums.

But this time, as he slept, he was visited neither by Dream or Death.

Not even by Delirium or Destruction.

There was a great wide space full of mirrors that looked out on the world. And there were rats, lots of rats, some of them half-eaten, and while John was schooled in Ratspeak, these would pay him no heed.

This was not Dream nor Death nor Delirium nor Destruction. And it certainly wasn't, John ferverently hoped, his Destiny.

This was the realm of Despair.

This place, too, was not unfamiliar to John. Though he wondered, if he found Despair's Gallery, found where she kept her siblings' Sigils, he could hitch a ride out of there...

But then he heard a moan, somewhere in his sensorium he heard a female voice moan and he turned toward the sound with an eyebrow arched.

"'Ang on," he murmured. "You what?"

That wasn't a sound of Despair, that was a sound of Desire.

John put his hands on his hips, and flicked a scuttling rat off of his Marks & Spencer shoe, and peered closely out through one of the mirrors floating nearest himself.

"Someone's 'aving a proper time of it, and they're 'aving it without me," he decided. "And if that's not reason enough for Despair, I dunno what is."

He reached out, and touched the pane of glass, and it rippled like water.

The veil parted, and he sat up and woke, and he trailed his weary fingers through his rumpled blond hair, and looked about with bleary eyes at his surroundings.

He was someplace different. He was in the air. In an aeroplane. Clouds and mists and window-portals to the sky...

No wonder he'd dreamed of Despair's realm.

He half-watched Ted Grant glance askance at him, but he himself was still glancing around for the source of the moan, the source of the Desire...

The dark-haired girl with the aura of steel was thrashing and clawing in her bed and Ted looked concerned.

She moaned again, and tensed.

John Constantine snorted, however, shook his head, rubbed his face with his palm. "Too young."

Ted frowned at him, glad to see him awake and alive but still very much concerned with the apparent nightmarish landscape through which Diana seemed to be travelling and travailing.

"Beg yer pardon?" he scowled, turning to face John more fully.

John arched both eyebrows, and then glanced Ted up and down, a thoroughly neutral curve to his lips. "Too old."

Ted Grant reddened considerably. "Jackass."

John grinned. "Now, now, I'm sure yeh were perfectly fetching back in the--"

But Ted glanced away, sharply, more concerned with the young lady.

It sounded as though, rather than incoherent noises of varying levels of discomfort, she'd just mumbled something astonishingly close to dialogue. And then. And then:

With a massive build up of her will power she forced her way up and out of the drug induced sleep with all her power "NO more I say!" were the words that came from her voice as she sat bolt upright.

"Strewth," John flinched, the sudden detonation of Amazon fury enough to jangle even his jaded nerves. "Bluddy 'Ell!"

Ted's sea-green eyes were full of worry as he half-knelt by Diana's bed-side, and he searched her face...

"Di," he breathed, "Lil' Lady Di, Land of The Livin', welcome back. You okay? You got a little punch-drunk back there. More'n a little. You okay?"

"'Okay?'" John harrumphed, patting himself down, abashed at his flinching and trying to save face. "Sounds like she might need a cigarette worse than I do."

He paused. "Wait. Do I need a cigarette?"

He glanced down at himself, put a palm on his stomach, looking pale and horrified and Despairing. "What 'ave you lot done to me?"

 

[AmenRa]

Rose McCrimmon hugged Kara tightly, closing her eyes tighter still as the extraterrestrial beauty wrapped her up in those impossibly powerful impossibly gentle arms.

"Sorry I almost turned Kyle into a pancake. We'll meet you at the hospital," Kara said before backing away. She took one last look over at the doc before taking off in a light sprint.

Rose watched her go 'till she was out of sight, and risked whispering something, risked whispering under her breath and praying to God that Kara could at least hear her, if she couldn't read minds...

"Be safe," she whispered. "See you there. (I don't think either of us bear a grudge.) Just be safe."

Then she jogged around to the other side of the car, to the passenger side, and fired a tight little nervous grin at Doctor Donald Blake.

"Okay," she declared, "that's enough of that. Time and tide and severe neurological inflammation wait for no man, is that right?"

She pulled the door open and slid in, belting up.

And took another look in the direction in which Kara had run, offered up another whispered benediction: "Go baby go."

Blake was driving as fast as he could over the muddy road. He steered the BMW SUV through the gunk onto the hard top. His cell phone beeped, and he answered, explaining he was on Route 5 near town and would be there shortly.

Blake pocketed the phone. He looked at Rose, and got a curious expression on his face.

"Hey," he said, "your last name's McCrimmon, right?" He looked at her pointedly now, but only for a second before he turned his attention back to the roadway. "When I was at Oxford during an intern exchange, there was a Dr. McCrimmon that gave a lecture on quantuum mechanical harmonics, or something such as that. Any relation?"

Blake glanced at her again before she could answer. "Does the word traveler mean anything to you?"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Pegasus Med Bay

"What we have done is removed God only knows how many years of damage you did while killing yourself slowly with those damn cigarettes, several scars from what I saw, and I think we put your face back together right. You would have to ask this big 'ole teddy bear here if everything looks like it's supposed to." Sharon said, fixing John with her piercing gaze.

She reached into a cabinet and removed two packages, late model MRE's, and handed on to the bewildered John Constantine, and walked over to Diana next.

"You both should eat. Your body's got used pretty good while healing you, so you need to replace what was used."

She then kneeled down next to Diana. "Sugah', your in good hands. Your on a plane, over California last time I checked. You got banged up pretty good but your gonna be fine now." She pressed the food into Teddy Grants hands then turned to him. "Get some of that into her and make sure she stays in bed until we land. She's just about healed up, but I want to make sure before she goes off out of my sight."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose Mary McCrimmon

Kids at school had always called the little handles over above car doors "ohshit handles," and Rose had always wondered why. She'd always thought that they were coat hooks or something. (Though why anyone would hang a coat and block a car window was so unsafe as to be confusing.)

But now she understood full well their vernacular nomenclature.

Because while she didn't say a word, there with her seatbelt on as Donald Blake took the roads of Smallville like they were The Baja 500, she was hanging onto that handle for dear life with eyes opened way way wide and she was internally silently cursing a blue blue streak. Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshiiiiiiiiit...!

She didn't want to curse out loud, because she might offend whomever was on the other end of Blake's cellphone conversation.

Blake pocketed the phone. He looked at Rose, and got a curious expression on his face.

"Hey," he said, "your last name's McCrimmon, right?" He looked at her pointedly now, but only for a second before he turned his attention back to the roadway. "When I was at Oxford during an intern exchange, there was a Dr. McCrimmon that gave a lecture on quantuum mechanical harmonics, or something such as that. Any relation?"

Blake glanced at her again before she could answer. "Does the word traveler mean anything to you?"

Rose had to very carefully reboot the dialogue sector of her brain before she answered so that no 'ohshits' snuck out.

"He might maybe have been?" she mumbled, eyes never ever leaving the road ahead. "But not that I know of. I mean, there's lots of McCrimmons out there. According to our family history-- did a report on this last year --the MacCrimmons-- extra vowel in there, 'nstead of the, uh, Xenexian sort of guttural apostrophe --were the hereditary pipers of The Clan MacLeod. (Which, I don't think that makes us immortal.) But these guys were from Scotland-- I mean, originally from Vikings, like a lot of Scots families, they were Norse to start with before they were Scots --and I guess one of them married a Welshwoman like four-hundred-some-odd years ago, and that's why my family's Welsh with a Scottish last name."

She hesitated, gritting her jittering chattering rattling teeth as he took another particularly bumpy curve.

"It sounds like the sort of thing my dad is into," she confessed, "but his last name is Hamilton. Kind of a divorce-thing. Was a pretty bad break, Mum had us change our name after, back to her maiden name. (I still love him, though, and I think maybe she does too? It's hard to tell with grown-ups, grown-ups are confusing.) I dunno 'bout any McCrimmons or MacCrimmons-- by name, anyway --that dig quantum theory."

Only now did she pause and digest, thanks to her miraculous subconscious, the next thing he had said. "'Traveler.' You mean more than in the, like, dictionary sense?"

She hesitated.

Traveler.

This guy really really needs to meet John Smith.

Again, she took a moment to clear her thoughts before she replied. Survival and half-truth.

"There was a guy on Star Trek once," she remembered, "called 'The Traveler.' He had this thing where Time and Space and Thought were all one, were all the same, and he could... he could... he was amazing. Like he could bend the fundamental forces of the cosmos to his imagination."

Rose trailed off, and smiled faintly. There was pride on her face, pride in her voice.

"That. That is my father. My dad is like that."

 

[AmenRa]

Blake shrugged while he was driving.

"Well, it might just be a coincidence, or some relative you don't know," he said. He slowed the SUV for a moment, coming up behind a rather slow traveling pickup truck. He glanced at his watch, noticed there was a good bit of mud covering the face of the stainless Omega. He then took good notice of his shoes, realizing the fine leather of his favorite Crockett and Jones cap toe oxfords was ruined.

"Not sure about the whole traveler thing," he told Rose, "it's just a word I heard in some significance recently, and thought it might mean something to this area. Sounds like your dad is a pretty amazing fellow." It was pretty much the truth, he had no idea why the word was stuck in his head, although it was pretty certain it had to do with a certain Norse god of thunder. "I understand Smallville has had a lot of strange things going on since the meteor shower. I've read some articles about speculation from everything to superhuman powers coming from the meteor rocks to alien spacecraft landing in cornfields. The best articles," he laughed, "come from your high school paper, The Torch."

The roadway narrowed, coming into town. They crossed a set of railroad tracks, and stopped for the first traffic signal near The Talon.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

Blake shrugged while he was driving.

"Well, it might just be a coincidence, or some relative you don't know," he said.

"That's true," Rose nodded quietly. "Probably not a coincidence, tho'. (False cognate.) Mum always said that there's never any such thing as a coincidence. Probably more likely it's some family member I've not heard of. Apparently I have plenty of those. The whole 'honorary uncle' thing, my family seems to do that kinda liberally."

"Not sure about the whole traveler thing," he told Rose, "it's just a word I heard in some significance recently, and thought it might mean something to this area. Sounds like your dad is a pretty amazing fellow."

"Yeah," Rose nodded slowly. "Yeah he is. Both my parents are. Bendigedig, molto bene, that's them."

Rose digested this quietly. Tucked a forelock of crimson back behind her ear and glanced over at him, trusting enough to take her eyes off the road and her hand off of the ohshit handle so long as they were slowing down behind this pickup ahead of them. She looked at him carefully.

You know something. But you don't know you know it?

I guess I can wrap my brain around that. Happens to me all the time.

Frankenstein's Monster learned to read real easy because he remembered it from when his brain-parts had been alive. Alive the first time, before the death and the lightning.

We know lots of things. We just don't know we know them.

What do you know, Doctor Blake, that you don't know you know?

She bit her lip. And tried to decide if she should take a chance on this.

It was such a risk. They had so many secrets to keep in this town, but if Doctor Blake was searching for a secret of his own, what right had she to deny him a breadcrumb on the path?

"I understand Smallville has had a lot of strange things going on since the meteor shower. I've read some articles about speculation from everything to superhuman powers coming from the meteor rocks to alien spacecraft landing in cornfields. The best articles," he laughed, "come from your high school paper, The Torch."

"I'm actually," she murmured, "a reporter for The Torch. I haven't. I haven't had a chance to do an article yet, but I'm supposed to be the new science reporter. But, um, on behalf of our editor and the rest of the, uh, staff, thank you for your readership? Some of our articles may be a little more colourful than you'd expect, but sometimes the way to Truth leads you down unexpected paths."

She got quiet for a minute.

"We, uh," she attempted, "actually went on a field trip. A couple of them. To these caves nearby? There was this... professor. History professor. Stand-up guy, really knows his business, think you'd like him. And he translated some of the cave things for us. The... paintingroglyphics or whatever. And he said some of them talked about a 'Traveler.' So maybe... maybe that's the local significance you were thinking about? The local flavour?"

Swear to me on all that is holy and 'The Positronic Man,' she thought at him hard, that you will use this knowledge only for good.

Rose bit the inside of her cheek.

The roadway narrowed, coming into town. They crossed a set of railroad tracks, and stopped for the first traffic signal near The Talon.

As they crossed the railroad tracks, Rose could feel herself go a little pale, and she grabbed the door handle beside her, took hold of it with a white-knuckled grasp..

She scrunched her eyes shut tight tight shut and held her breath until the railroad was past.

She had woken up in the backseat and there had been a stranger driving her father's car and the next thing she'd known he'd been getting out and then the train was whistling and the metal was screaming and there were sparks and power was surging around her through her--

Then there had been blackness that had lasted a long time.

All of these were things, for a time, that she'd known without knowing she knew them. But such things always come to you in time. Whether you want them to or not.

Then the railroad was behind them and they were waiting at a stoplight on Main Street and she was breathing normally with her eyes open.

Don't be scared, Strange Little Girl, she told herself. You survived that locomotive. And today... today and yesterday you've survived things more powerful than a locomotive. Don't be scared.

Strange Little Girl.

Valkyrie Missile.

She breathed normally, and waited for the light to change.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Chloe, Pete, Gabe, Alfred, The Cat, and Jamie

Chloe grinned, shaking her head, her eyes a light and her face disbelieving.

"All the animals in the Kingdom," she wondered, putting a hand on Merick's shoulder, "and you chose a hippo specifically to be under your tree? I didn't give your veterinary skills enough credit, that's the baddest 'mother' in the jungle, forget lions, forget crocodiles... a hippo is one dangerous pachyderm."

"Veterinary skills notwithstandin'," Pete harrumphed, "he still ain't no good at namin' superpeople. I mean, no offence, Launchpad, credit for trying, but some of the monikers you slung my way in Honduras weren't exactly fit for printing, know what I'm saying?"

Chloe winced, crossing her arms over her stomach. "Yeah. No offence, sweetie, but 'AnimalDude' sort of sets off my 'Dewey Defeats Truman' alarm. With the green and the pointed ears he somewhat resembles a member of The Seelie Court; you could call him 'Changeling?'"

Pete arched an eyebrow. "My favourite episode of Classic Trek was always 'The Menagerie.' Fancy lingo for 'zoo.'"

Chloe nodded slowly, pursing her lips in an impressed but contemplative fashion. "Could do worse."

Gabe was very carefully helping Marcy to her feet.

Alfred, meanwhile, had returned the ketchups to the fridge and was seeking out a mop, trying to keep the very put-upon expression off of his face.

Gabriel the Cat was hiding on top of a cabinet, staring at the hippopotamus with wide wide eyes.

Jamie leaned against the back of a couch, arms across his chest, a tiny little smile on his lips, contemplative and content.

"'All science, even the divine science, is a sublime detective story,'" he murmured by way of Chesterton. "'Only it is not set to detect why a man is dead; but the darker secret of why he is alive.'"

He pushed away from the couch with one hand and, putting his hands into his pockets, wandered over to the the weapons displays.

"Beastly," he murmured. "Beastly Boy."

 

[AmenRa]

The light turned to green, and Dr. Don Blake pressed the accelerator pedal, the BMW speeding up to the law-limited 35 miles per hour almost instantly.

"We, uh," she attempted, "actually went on a field trip. A couple of them. To these caves nearby? There was this... professor. History professor. Stand-up guy, really knows his business, think you'd like him. And he translated some of the cave things for us. The... paintingroglyphics or whatever. And he said some of them talked about a 'Traveler.' So maybe... maybe that's the local significance you were thinking about? The local flavour?"

He looked at the gnarled old wooden walking stick he used as a cane that rested against his right leg on the leather seat. It had been found in a cave. Apparently, many things could be found in caves. Especially in Smallville.
He wondered if there were any Runes, or "paintingroglyphics", like the ones on his cane in the caves that Rose spoke of.

He looked sidelong at Rose. Then he confirmed his belief with a subtle smile to himself. She knew more about the paintingroglyphics and this professor than she initially told him.

So it was time to learn exactly what she knew, and in the process, figure out why Thor had so firmly planted the word traveler in his head.

"Hey," Blake asked her, lifting the old wooden stick up off the seat, "did you ever see any writings like these in these caves you went to?"

She would have to look close to see the ancient carvings, but if she looked deeper, she would indeed see the Runes engraved there by Norsemen as given to them by Odin so many, many long hundreds of years ago.

Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of....Thor

 

[ChasNicollette]

Hellblazer and Wildcat

John Constantine looked a little panicked. More than a little.

"It's a man's god-given right to commit gradual suicide however he pleases," he scowled, shaking his head, staring at himself as if he could... "Repaired my liver, too. S'pose I should be grateful."

(Well. Maybe he could.)

Grudgingly, he accepted the MRE.

"Bloody Yanks," he grumbled, noshing, "can't let anything go on without their benevolent interference. Can't even permit me the opportunity to drop out of rehab like Amy sodding Winehouse."

Glancing away from Diana for a moment, Ted gave Constantine a cursory examination. "Yeah. He's in one piece. S'pose it woulda been too much to ask that ya hadda shot what magically fixed his surly-ass attitude problem."

John kindly offered Ted a two-fingered salute. "Go back to your nursemaiding, 'teddy bear.'"

Ted's lip twitched. "All this talk o' bears is offendin' my feline disposition."

John harrumphed, and chewed slowly, thoughtfully. "To say nothing of your expatriate status. Didn't you swear off the Self-Important States of America a few decades back?"

Ted looked away from him. And there was agony etched upon his face.

And then he looked up at Diana of Themyscira, and offered her the MRE he'd been given on her behalf. Looked up at her with an adoration that was a mix of fraternal and paternal...

"Some things," he told John Constantine, without looking away from Diana, "you see through to the end, no matter the personal cost. Just like I'm going to see this treasure safe to ground, even if it means I get my feet scuffed on American soil t' do it."

John made a face so contorted it was as if he was going to puke up one of his newly-restored lungs.

And he, too, looked at Diana: "Can you believe this berk? (I can't believe this berk.)"

 

[Wyldfire]

John Constantine looked a little panicked. More than a little.

"It's a man's god-given right to commit gradual suicide however he pleases," he scowled, shaking his head, staring at himself as if he could... "Repaired my liver, too. S'pose I should be grateful."

(Well. Maybe he could.)

Grudgingly, he accepted the MRE.

"Bloody Yanks," he grumbled, noshing, "can't let anything go on without their benevolent interference. Can't even permit me the opportunity to drop out of rehab like Amy sodding Winehouse."

Glancing away from Diana for a moment, Ted gave Constantine a cursory examination. "Yeah. He's in one piece. S'pose it woulda been too much to ask that ya hadda shot what magically fixed his surly-ass attitude problem."

John kindly offered Ted a two-fingered salute. "Go back to your nursemaiding, 'teddy bear.'"

Ted's lip twitched. "All this talk o' bears is offendin' my feline disposition."

John harrumphed, and chewed slowly, thoughtfully. "To say nothing of your expatriate status. Didn't you swear off the Self-Important States of America a few decades back?"

Ted looked away from him. And there was agony etched upon his face.

And then he looked up at Diana of Themyscira, and offered her the MRE he'd been given on her behalf. Looked up at her with an adoration that was a mix of fraternal and paternal...

"Some things," he told John Constantine, without looking away from Diana, "you see through to the end, no matter the personal cost. Just like I'm going to see this treasure safe to ground, even if it means I get my feet scuffed on American soil t' do it."

John made a face so contorted it was as if he was going to puke up one of his newly-restored lungs.

And he, too, looked at Diana: "Can you believe this berk? (I can't believe this berk.)"

The look in Uncle Ted's eyes made Diana's heart tighten. This man had been around, and her father hadn't. Ted was the closest thing to a father Diana had and it showed in the look she gave him as she accepted the MRE from him.

She turned from Ted to this John Constantine that was obviously teasing Ted, "I do not know what this "berk" is, but you say it like it's a bad thing," her eyes narrowed at the man, "Ted Grant is a great man, understand that. Also understand I will brook no ill towards him male."

Before she could go on the scent of the food hit her and her stomach responded like the Amazon warrior Diana was becoming. It growled loudly as the girl tore open the MRE and ate everything edible in it cold. She made an attempt at snatching Constantine's from him but missed. One of the Med staff brought another MRE to her, and she snatched it and before she began to devour it she looked at the Med tech and said "Three more." before tearing into the second meal.

Her body was making up for the accelerated metabolic healing. The calories were being shunted immediately into her system to replace the lost calories. Diana said nothing more until she'd managed four more MREs. At which time she looked up at the people around her with the embarrassed eyes of the young girl she was "Forgive me my rudeness please? That was very unbecoming of royalty." She sat there crumbs on her face blushing furiously.

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Hey," Blake asked her, lifting the old wooden stick up off the seat, "did you ever see any writings like these in these caves you went to?"

Rose blinked, coming out of the last of her railway-induced reverie, and frowned as she found herself presented with a new conundrum.

"I dunno," she mumbled, squinting at the cane in his grasp, "linguistics was never my strong suit, I was always more math and probably Chloe should--"

She stopped. Stopped in her verbal tracks. Her eyes squinted harder, and she reached out and she took a hold of Don Blake's cane without tugging it so hard that it would be removed from his grasp.

She ran her thumbtip over the rune for "power."

She bit her lip.

"It's not identical. (How old is this?) It's not identical, but there could be etymological variance--"

Rose tilted the cane so that he could better see, should he take a quick glance away from the road, exactly which icon she was looking at.

"It's probably not, I mean, I was just talking about false cognates," she mumbled, "but that looks... that looks distinctly like a glyph Chloe found in a painting of the Kawatche Messiah Naman. It means 'Fire,' and it also represents the letter 'P,' and it also means 'Power.'"

She trailed off a bit. Stared into space for a moment. Stared to nowhere.

Rose whispered, but her eyes had a strange light to them and she didn't look like she was all there. She looked like part of her was Somewhere Else.

"I know a thing or two about Power," she whispered. "Just a thing. Or two. About Power."

 

[ChasNicollette]

John and Ted

She turned from Ted to this John Constantine that was obviously teasing Ted, "I do not know what this "berk" is, but you say it like it's a bad thing," her eyes narrowed at the man, "Ted Grant is a great man, understand that. Also understand I will brook no ill towards him male."

"You'll 'ave to forgive me," John mused, eating a bit of canned corned beef and grinning like The Devil, "if I find your criteria for 'great' a bit dubious. Also, I suspect your concepts of gender identity are a wee bit obsolete, matriarchal's no better than patriarchal in my book, those sort of categories should 'ave gone out about a thousand years ago."

Chuckling softly, licking crumbs of corned beef off of his fingers, he shook his head, and poked around in his MRE tin for the remainder of the meal. "As for what 'berk' is, there's a thing called Cockney Rhyming Slang, and 'Berkeley Hunt' rhymes with--"

His face a mask of righteous irritation, Ted Grant held up an extended index finger.

"Constantine," he growled. "First, shut up. Second, she's not list'nin'. Third, don't talk that way 'round a lady."

...the scent of the food hit her and her stomach responded like the Amazon warrior Diana was becoming. It growled loudly as the girl tore open the MRE and ate everything edible in it cold.

Eyebrow arched, John harrumphed. "You'll 'ave to forgive me, Teddy, if I find your criteria for 'lady' a bit dubious."

She made an attempt at snatching Constantine's from him but missed.

"Agh!" John blinked, yanking his food away from her grasp, eyes wide. "Gerroff! Ladies say 'please!'"

Ted was too busy dying laughing to continue commenting.

John looked at the young woman, a whiter shade of pale, eyes wary, and kept careful watch on her as he ate: "Ladies also bloody well chew before swallowing."

One of the Med staff brought another MRE to her, and she snatched it and before she began to devour it she looked at the Med tech and said "Three more." before tearing into the second meal.

Her body was making up for the accelerated metabolic healing. The calories were being shunted immediately into her system to replace the lost calories. Diana said nothing more until she'd managed four more MREs. At which time she looked up at the people around her with the embarrassed eyes of the young girl she was "Forgive me my rudeness please? That was very unbecoming of royalty." She sat there crumbs on her face blushing furiously.

Both men had gone all quiet during this little display, and both John and Ted were a little pale now.

"Can't 'alf put it away," John mused, astonished, "can't she?"

"No kiddin'," Ted blinked. In fact, he'd only seen that kind of voracious appetite once before on a woman. Well, twice.

Once, on Hippolyta.

And once, in 1945, on Ixchel.

But then Ted shook his head, shook out of his reverie. First couple of times he'd come back from the dead, he'd felt like he could eat a horse. Maybe two horses. And staring at the woman wasn't going to make her any less embarrassed.

He rose to his feet and he retrieved his thrown-down jeans from earlier, pulling a handkerchief out of one of the pockets. And as he moved, he spoke.

"The thing is," he pointed out, "cats and royalty got a lot in common. And there's a rule among members o' th' feline community: it don't matter one bit, ain't embarrassin' at all, how mussed up you get during a meal, bits o' bone in yer whiskers, drop o' blood on yer ear..."

He went down on one knee before her, and folded the handkerchief so there was a bit extended, a small extension of fabric, and he licked this once, twice, three times, like a cat licking its paw, and then proceeded to use this to gently, briskly, methodically scrub the crumbs from her face.

"...so long as ya clean up nice an' fastidious after the fact."

 

[AmenRa]

Finally, the hospital.

Blake deftly manuevered the black SUV into the Smallville Medical Center's Emergency Receiving parking area. He put the car into park.

When he turned to Rose, his blue eyes were the blue eyes she knew all too well.

Blue eyes of power.

"This cane," he said, tugging it from her grasp, not so as to be rude, but so that she should know that Only One mortal was allowed to hold it, "is very old. I don't know how old, or even what kind of wood it is made from. I don't know much about it, other than I found it in a cave in Norway while I was on a hike. When I broke my leg."

He turned to the car's door, his hand now on the latch. "It has....something. I'm not sure why, or how, but for some reason I know I was meant to find this thing. It helps me walk," he explained, "but it also helps me....help others." His voice trailed off, and he was away from her for a moment, in that place where she was a moment ago.

And then, "Okay, so we're here. You don't know how much I appreciate this," he told her, once again looking at her. He handed her a business card and fished a $20 bill from a pocket. "Take this for gas, and should you ever find yourself in need of a doctor, don't hesitate for a second to call me." And then Blake opened the car door and stepped out.

"You wanna come in and wait for your ride home? There's a lounge inside you can wait in. TV and everything there, phone, too."

 

[Wyldfire]

Both men had gone all quiet during this little display, and both John and Ted were a little pale now.

"Can't 'alf put it away," John mused, astonished, "can't she?"

"No kiddin'," Ted blinked.

Ted shook his head, shook out of his reverie. First couple of times he'd come back from the dead, he'd felt like he could eat a horse. Maybe two horses. And staring at the woman wasn't going to make her any less embarrassed.

He rose to his feet and he retrieved his thrown-down jeans from earlier, pulling a handkerchief out of one of the pockets. And as he moved, he spoke.

"The thing is," he pointed out, "cats and royalty got a lot in common. And there's a rule among members o' th' feline community: it don't matter one bit, ain't embarrassin' at all, how mussed up you get during a meal, bits o' bone in yer whiskers, drop o' blood on yer ear..."

He went down on one knee before her, and folded the handkerchief so there was a bit extended, a small extension of fabric, and he licked this once, twice, three times, like a cat licking its paw, and then proceeded to use this to gently, briskly, methodically scrub the crumbs from her face.

"...so long as ya clean up nice an' fastidious after the fact."

Part of Diana was furious to be cleaned like a child, the rest of her preened under Uncle Ted's care. She let him finish wiping her face before she threw her arms around him and gave him the kind of hug she used to when she'd been little.

Then she noticed he was having trouble breathing through the pressure she was applying. She immediately slacked down on the squeeze until he could breathe again. Looking over his shoulder at the other man she studied him.

Uncle Ted trusted him, at least to a point. She had noticed that Ted had cut the man off in his speaking, so he wasn't completely trustworthy. He'd also teased her while she wasn't at her best and that would be dealt with sooner or later, but not at this very moment.

Never taking her gaze from Constantine's she said quietly into Ted Grant's ear "I have missed you so much. I love you Uncle Ted."

And again never breaking Constatine's gaze she stuck her tongue out at the man in a very unroyal fashion and buried her face into Uncle Ted's shoulder.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rose

Finally, the hospital.

Blake deftly manuevered the black SUV into the Smallville Medical Center's Emergency Receiving parking area. He put the car into park.

The creak-shunk sound of a car going into park woke Rose from her spaced-out slumber. She'd gone away again, she didn't even know how long--

--they hadn't gone far--

When he turned to Rose, his blue eyes were the blue eyes she knew all too well.

Blue eyes of power.

His eyes were the same blue as hers. And her eyes were not a natural blue.

Supernatural.

Rose had no words.

"This cane," he said, tugging it from her grasp, not so as to be rude, but so that she should know that Only One mortal was allowed to hold it, "is very old. I don't know how old, or even what kind of wood it is made from. I don't know much about it, other than I found it in a cave in Norway while I was on a hike. When I broke my leg."

Rose flexed her fingers, and she wanted to apologise. She had that feeling again.

Like she'd trespassed on Holy Ground.

She wanted to apologise...

He turned to the car's door, his hand now on the latch. "It has....something. I'm not sure why, or how, but for some reason I know I was meant to find this thing. It helps me walk," he explained, "but it also helps me....help others." His voice trailed off, and he was away from her for a moment, in that place where she was a moment ago.

He went Somewhere Else, in his face, and his eyes, his blue blue eyes... his eyes clouded over. Distinctly. They had been the blue of sky and then they had gathered clouds.

And Rose found herself singing, softly, singing a lullaby to him as he went Somewhere Else, went subconscious, and her voice was lovely now, it had never been lovely when she was a little girl but now everything had changed and she'd discovered on the roof of The Kent farmhouse that she could sing.

She sang, and the lyrics were Joni Mitchell's but always in her head Rose heard this song as sung by Hayley Westenra:

"'I've looked at clouds from both sides now,'" she softly crooned,
"'From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all...'"

And then, "Okay, so we're here. You don't know how much I appreciate this," he told her, once again looking at her. He handed her a business card and fished a $20 bill from a pocket. "Take this for gas, and should you ever find yourself in need of a doctor, don't hesitate for a second to call me." And then Blake opened the car door and stepped out.

"You wanna come in and wait for your ride home? There's a lounge inside you can wait in. TV and everything there, phone, too."

Rose considered this for a minute.

She could probably drive The SUV home.

But Pete Ross' much much earlier advice to Bruce Wayne about there being a deputy at or around The Talon all hours of every day had been on the money, and Rose knew this local lore as well. If she tried to take out The SUV from here, she'd be pulled over for sure. And Kara had said that she and Kyle would meet her here.

"Yeah," she nodded, slipping out of the car and pocketing the nice green portrait of Andrew Jackson. (Yes. Altruism. But money was tight for her family, and gas for this monster was going to cost her family a bundle. She wanted him to keep his money, but at the same time...) "Not a bad idea. (I mean, so long as it's good TV. Maybe Seven Days is on Sci-Fi.)"

As she closed her door, she glanced down at Blake's card.

It was unlikely that she'd ever need a doctor in the medical sense. She'd once, when she'd been three, asked her father what sort of doctor he was.

He'd just grinned at her and had said, 'I'm a Doctor of Everything.'

But at the same time, she held that card, and she knew that this was a thing of some import, not lightly to be discarded. She remembered those eyes, blue-sky or clouded, and she knew, knew, that at some point she would have to call on this doctor.

She gnawed the inside of her cheek, and she put that card into her pocket with the twenty.

She glanced across at Doctor Donald Blake, and her eyes were cool and calm and blue.

"You don't think," she murmured, "I can do anything to help?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ted and John

Part of Diana was furious to be cleaned like a child, the rest of her preened under Uncle Ted's care. She let him finish wiping her face before she threw her arms around him and gave him the kind of hug she used to when she'd been little.

Ted was about to sit back a bit, double-check he'd gotten everything. Sure, he knew, teenage girls and their hot-blooded rebellious streaks, some things never change, but he also reckoned she'd be abashed to have any vestiges of her meal on her face and then she--

"Whuuugh," he wheezed, face red and eyes bulging, as her steel-coil arms embraced him, "sweets, m'gonna rupture a gasbag..."

Then she noticed he was having trouble breathing through the pressure she was applying. She immediately slacked down on the squeeze until he could breathe again. Looking over his shoulder at the other man she studied him.

...never taking her gaze from Constantine's she said quietly into Ted Grant's ear "I have missed you so much. I love you Uncle Ted."

"Missed ya too," Ted chuckled, his breath returning and his voice sounding not unlike the rumble of a very pleasant purr, "an' love ya bunches. Little Lady Di."

And just as Diana never took her eyes from Constantine's, Constantine arched a brow and twitched his lip and never took his eyes from hers.

And again never breaking Constatine's gaze she stuck her tongue out at the man in a very unroyal fashion and buried her face into Uncle Ted's shoulder.

Ted had speculated that there were things in Constantine's blood that were beyond the power of even The Pegasus' med-crew to scrub away, and this had been true. Long before John Constantine had been born, there had been something in his family tree, something in his bloodline, something impossible to define and something even more impossible to exorcise. And once, to save this world and The Next, John had voluntarily had something added to his blood...

Neither of these were gone, neither of these were scrubbed away. And neither was a third element, something wholly John.

He was a king of tricksters and a god among confidence artists and a liar to shame The Devil and when Diana of Themyscira stuck her tongue out at him he found this great great fun indeed. His eyes sparked and danced.

He stuck his tongue back out at her, and as he did so, he touched his thumb to his nose and wiggled his fingers like a rooster's crown, all in her direction.

Diana had stuck her tongue out at him. And to him, this meant she showed promise.

 

[camerindrake]

Damian

Damian stood out in the field between the place the boomtube was and the room the group had taken up shelter. He pulled the only real weapon he carried on him, the extenda staff. He extended it out and placed on end against the ground. He then closed his eyes.

He let his other sences roam free as he began his movements. As he brought the staff up he began twisting his wrist and let the staff twirl catching it in his other hand doing the same he then slung the staff behind his back letting it sling arround to his other hand. The movements fast yet graceful for someone of his size.

he then slammed the staff into the ground and pushed his body in the air balancing as he held onto the end of the staff. he then opened his eyes as he balanced looking down at the staff. he then with all his strength pushed his body up and spun arround slamming the staff into the ground as he landed. He then used the staff in a sweeping motion as he spun his own body a full three hundred and sixty degrees and twirled it arround his elbow. and brought it back to the ground.

Through all of the movements his breathing didnt increase or his heart rate go up any considerable ammount. He was one with the staff. His senses taking in the environment arround him. This is what Damian was, A warrior.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Time never stands still

Aboard the Pegasus


The majority of the flight had passed by rather uneventfully in the forward cabin of the Pegasus.

After his third scotch, Lex appeared to be a bit more mellow, tho Min was still giving him her best Gorgon's stare. On her second glass of merlot, Bekka looked over the glass at Min, then Lex, then asked in Texan accented Chinese "OK, what happened?"

Min looked over at her, then again at Lex, and replied back much more fluently "He offered me a job, at about twice my salary. I was going to paste him to the chair, but I remembered how long it took me that last time to clean things up when I pasted that Saudi oil guy, so I just told him no and let it lie."

Bekka hid a smile behind taking a drink of wine. "Thats my girl." , then she turned to Lex "Do you fancy a game of chess Mr. Luthor?"

In the hours later she learned two things. Lex Luthor was very very good at chess, and he had absolutely no mercy. They were setting up the board for a third game when her comlink buzzed in her pocket.

"Excuse me Lex," she said, looking down at the message, "I need to go check on some other passengers. We should be landing in about two more hours, and once I unload some people we will head to Metropolis and I'll drop you off at LuthorCorp. I'm sure your father is worried sick about you. I'll be back in a few."

Bekka rolled through the passenger compartment, noting that while most of the group were asleep, Edmund and Ceri both popped open a eye when she rolled in. Young Mr. Wayne was awake and reading a novel he had found, Watership Down if she wasn't mistaken. Hopefully he didn't dog-ear any pages. Min hated that.

Making her way into the med bay, she surveyed the room. Her eyes widened a bit and she broke off a smile when she saw who was there.

"John Constantine. What, pray tell, brings you to my little shop of miracles?"

 

[Lunaramblings]

Chloe grinned, shaking her head, her eyes a light and her face disbelieving.

"All the animals in the Kingdom," she wondered, putting a hand on Merick's shoulder, "and you chose a hippo specifically to be under your tree? I didn't give your veterinary skills enough credit, that's the baddest 'mother' in the jungle, forget lions, forget crocodiles... a hippo is one dangerous pachyderm."

"Veterinary skills notwithstandin'," Pete harrumphed, "he still ain't no good at namin' superpeople. I mean, no offence, Launchpad, credit for trying, but some of the monikers you slung my way in Honduras weren't exactly fit for printing, know what I'm saying?"

Chloe winced, crossing her arms over her stomach. "Yeah. No offence, sweetie, but 'AnimalDude' sort of sets off my 'Dewey Defeats Truman' alarm. With the green and the pointed ears he somewhat resembles a member of The Seelie Court; you could call him 'Changeling?'"

Pete arched an eyebrow. "My favourite episode of Classic Trek was always 'The Menagerie.' Fancy lingo for 'zoo.'"

Chloe nodded slowly, pursing her lips in an impressed but contemplative fashion. "Could do worse."

Gabe was very carefully helping Marcy to her feet.

Alfred, meanwhile, had returned the ketchups to the fridge and was seeking out a mop, trying to keep the very put-upon expression off of his face.

Gabriel the Cat was hiding on top of a cabinet, staring at the hippopotamus with wide wide eyes.

Jamie leaned against the back of a couch, arms across his chest, a tiny little smile on his lips, contemplative and content.

"'All science, even the divine science, is a sublime detective story,'" he murmured by way of Chesterton. "'Only it is not set to detect why a man is dead; but the darker secret of why he is alive.'"

He pushed away from the couch with one hand and, putting his hands into his pockets, wandered over to the the weapons displays.

"Beastly," he murmured. "Beastly Boy."

Merick and Gar laughed. Gar smashed and mashed the food in his mouth as Merick had the table up ended and they laughed at the mess they made. Gar looked around. He turned back into a man and he grinned delightedly.

"You know, Gar, I guess I am kinda suckish at hero names."

"Well that can be forgiven M. I think your girlfriend there was maybe on to something. Changeling, The Changeling. Yeah... that could work. Though, I kinda like, what was it Dr. Helpful called me? Beast Boy? Something like that right? That's pretty sweet too." Gar laughed as he surveyed the area in which he had just gorged himself. "Dude... we totally trashed this place..."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceri, Bruce, Lex, Ted, and John

'Sometimes, there are dreams.

Sometimes these are things that she remembers.

Learning archery at an ashram.

Learning gunslinging with a man in red.

Running across rooftops after a dark-haired girl who wanted to run until the world burned down.

Running through hails of bullets because her one goal lays upon the other side.

Holding her fingers intertwined with a slender man with a puckish grin, a man who infuriated as much as he enthralled, a genius and a savior and a terrible terrible burden.

Holding her daughter for the first time.

Sometimes there are dreams.

Sometimes these are things that she does not want to remember.

Peering down a cliffside at the surf raging at the bottom.

Peering into the soul of a man for whom redemption is a concept to be mocked.

Losing her grip on her sister's hand.

Losing her grip on her father's life.

Sometimes there are dreams.

Sometimes there are tears.'

Ceri's eyes opened, and she glanced at Bekka Greystone as she rolled by.

She smiled a gentle and weary smile.

Rubbing a little of the bleary ache out of her eyes, she glanced over at Bruce Wayne, and Bruce Wayne looked up from his book to nod to her respectfully.

It seemed as though Bruce had dreams of his own, and had decided to keep his distance from them.

He held up the book, showed her the cover, white lettering and a black shape like a rabbit. He smiled faintly.

"Everywhere I turn," he murmured. "There's another evil General. Makes a man want to live in underground tunnels, more than a little."

"Always got to come up eventually," Ceri pointed out, according to the lessons of the book, "else you'll go mad. Just because a man's nocturnal by nature, doesn't mean neglecting his circadian rhythms is anything but unhealthy."

"'Silflay,'" Bruce murmured faintly, and returning the book to his lap, turned another page, gently and methodically. "Attitude towards women is a little pre-feminist."

Ceri smiled faintly, oh-so-sadly. "Real message is in the epilogue."

Bruce flipped ahead, read this quickly, and paused with his eyes closed. "Do stories always have to end that way?"

Ceri shook her head, and closed her eyes again. "The point is, Bruce, dear thing, that it's not an ending at all. It never ever is."

"Hm," Bruce grunted faintly.

And digested this quietly.

"Is there a sequel?" he wondered, opening his eyes and glancing anew across at the aisle at Ms. McCrimmon.

With her eyes still closed, Ceri only smiled.

********​

Lex sat.

He leaned forward a bit in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers steepled before him. As he sat, he gazed quietly at the chessboard before him.

The Black King sat almost within reach of The White Queen.

And yet The White Queen had stopped short of eviscerating The Black King once and for all.

Lex gazed at this quietly.

His thoughts were his own, though his eyes were hard.

********​

Hugging Diana gently but firmly, Ted glanced up as Bekka Greystone emerged through the doorway into the passenger compartment...

Making her way into the med bay, she surveyed the room. Her eyes widened a bit and she broke off a smile when she saw who was there.

"John Constantine. What, pray tell, brings you to my little shop of miracles?"

Ted blinked, and glanced at John, who appeared perfectly and bemusedly inscrutable. "Don't tell me your reputation precedes ya?"

John paid Ted no mind, neither Ted nor Diana, and instead turned that fantastic roguish smirk full upon Bekka.

"What brings me?" he placed his hands together, as if in the manner of prayer, and rolled his eyes skyward as if petitioning some Great Power for grace and forgiveness. "Whatever brings me anywhere, Becky me pet, but me ongoing quest for lasting redemption?"

Ted cleared his throat, noisily, and the clearing of his throat sounded like 'Horsecrap!'

Without missing a beat, John grinned a cat-ate-the-canary grin, and parted those hands. "Of course, sometimes, the road to redemption goes a lot faster than a sinful bloke would like. Quantum leaps instead of the infinitely preferable meandering pace. F'rinstance, this business with 'fixing' me long-standing destructive relationship with nicotine..." He paused, and gave her an examining look. "This wouldn't be payback for me role in getting you sacked from finishing school not two years back, would it? (I still maintain yeh brought it on yourself, luvvie.)"

 

[Wyldfire]

He was a king of tricksters and a god among confidence artists and a liar to shame The Devil and when Diana of Themyscira stuck her tongue out at him he found this great great fun indeed. His eyes sparked and danced.

He stuck his tongue back out at her, and as he did so, he touched his thumb to his nose and wiggled his fingers like a rooster's crown, all in her direction.

This look wasn't lost on young Diana. This was a game she played at home with her "sister" Artemis. And the game was on as a new woman, the woman who appeared to be in authority entered the room.

Hugging Diana gently but firmly, Ted glanced up as Bekka Greystone emerged through the doorway into the passenger compartment...

"John Constantine. What, pray tell, brings you to my little shop of miracles?"

Ted blinked, and glanced at John, who appeared perfectly and bemusedly inscrutable. "Don't tell me your reputation precedes ya?"

John paid Ted no mind, neither Ted nor Diana, and instead turned that fantastic roguish smirk full upon Bekka.

"What brings me?" he placed his hands together, as if in the manner of prayer, and rolled his eyes skyward as if petitioning some Great Power for grace and forgiveness. "Whatever brings me anywhere, Becky me pet, but me ongoing quest for lasting redemption?"

Ted cleared his throat, noisily, and the clearing of his throat sounded like 'Horsecrap!'

Without missing a beat, John grinned a cat-ate-the-canary grin, and parted those hands. "Of course, sometimes, the road to redemption goes a lot faster than a sinful bloke would like. Quantum leaps instead of the infinitely preferable meandering pace. F'rinstance, this business with 'fixing' me long-standing destructive relationship with nicotine..." He paused, and gave her an examining look. "This wouldn't be payback for me role in getting you sacked from finishing school not two years back, would it? (I still maintain yeh brought it on yourself, luvvie.)"

There it was. The opening. Diana kept her head down so none buy Constantine could catch her hard cold smile "There he goes again Ma'am, He's a beast and cruel to we women. He's even been a beast to my kind sweet Uncle Ted, who has been a saint in caring for him," she let her shoulders shudder just a bit, "He even insinuates that it's you being cruel to him for offenses he gave you in the past. Is there no way you could order him sedated until we land and may depart his foul prescence?"

The last said Diana steeled herself and set her expression to one of utter sorrow "He is such a mean and cruel beast Ma'am."

Diana knew Uncle Ted would see through this and she hoped he wouldn't call her on this.