Creature City

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Abner knows he's mess, hands still clutching his face, while Charlie stands above him, staring at him all of a sudden with that scary, unreadable look in his eyes, his hand still making absent figure-eights against the table.
Abner is suddenly hit with a memory of Charlie, sixteen years old, hunched over the body of a cat he'd drunkenly hit while they were out joyriding in one of their dad's antique cars. Charlie was doing much the same thing to the animal's exposed fur then-- running his fingers around the mangled area, eyes bright while Abner stood on the sidelines with his face buried in his sleeve, calling him sick, shouting at him to either call a vet or put it out of its misery. After what felt like an eternity, Charlie had opted for the latter, a sharp motion with his boot almost like a solution.
He's shaking now, while Charlie tilts his head back, looking half amused, half stirred with excitement.
Minerva is crouched near him, pulling stressed fistfuls of hair whilst kneeling down near Hans, swearing and muttering under her breath. She recalls her brother, before and after. She recalls him in high school, the junkie kid in the back of class. Look at him now. Look how he's spiralled.
Chance hisses, the mist of adrenaline finally clearing to reveal the weight settling now around what she's done. She checks her ex-husband's pulse, then grimaces at the blood seeping around the corner of his mouth. Onto her damn cream carpet as well.
"H-holy shit." Abner finally managed to mutter, left eye blinking shut in a twitch only Minerva seems to catch.
Charlie stares at his sister in silence, amber eyes staring down at her with a strange expression that could only be interpreted. She doesn't know why she gets a chill every time she sees him at Chance's, after all, he is her brother, but she has a theory. He's the only one out of the four that resembles her father, sharing the same eyes and sharp cheekbones. Even as a kid, she'd never got on with him much.
She stares pointedly at Chance, "You killed him." It's not an accusation, it's a statement.
"Y'know, I missed these family dinners. Didn't you? It's always nice to be reunited with brothers, sisters, and good ol' Ma and Pa." Charlie smiles, even though there's not a hint of humor in his comment, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well, in this case Ma."
Chance is silent, swaying on her feet, staring at the pan, then back at the three of them. Her own children. She can never shake the creeping feeling that she's failed them, even from the start.
"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?" Minerva says quietly to herself, standing up and brushing her skirt. She's gotten over her shock, and now she's adjusting. Adapting to the situation while Abner rubs his eyes and lets out a shaky breath.
"Settles what?" Chance, Abner and Charlie say in practically unison.
"Who gets to sit on the throne now."
 
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"And you're sure you know what to do?" Luke asked for the umpteenth time.
"Yes, Dad" Alexis couldn't stifle her giggle. "I'll be fine. They like me, it's just a checkup to see how things are going."
Luke couldn't hold down his smile when she called him that. Jet had left for a while on a mission- she didn't say what, only that she would be away for a fair while. She'd packed provisions, and Alexis had helped, making sure she had everything she needed and spares of some things in case she ran into trouble. Alexis knew she would. It was basically inevitable. She'd put Luke in charge while she was gone, and although he was a good father figure, he wasn't Jet. Still, it wasn't the first time they'd been seperated. Alexis was a little glad she had an adult this time.
Galzra and Azur had been in their room, but came out to say goodbye to her. Azur had a few stains from painting on his apron, and Galzra's fingertips were slightly reddened from guitar strings, but that didn't stop either of them from engulfing her in a dual hug, causing her to giggle and squirm."Guysssss, c'mon! I'm not gonna be gone for that long anyway!"
Galzra laughed, ruffling her hair and causing her to pout, mussing to fix it. "Doesn't mean we won't miss you, little shadow."
That had become his nickname for her since a few nights ago; they'd had a close call with someone nearly discovering Melanie when they'd been taken out to play. The child had fallen into a pool of some strange liquid, and naturally Alexis had panicked a little, but they had seemed fine until someone questioned what Melanie was. Alexis had made both of them look like shadows, throwing a cloak over her and dashing them both out of there so fast it was almost like they teleported.
Alexis could have sworn she'd seen Melanie's eyes glowing, but the smaller child always denied it when questioned.
Now they came trotting out of their room, and upon seeing the group hug going on decided they absolutely had to get in on that. And when they wanted something there wasn't much that would stop them. They latched on to Galzra's trouser leg and quite literally climbed up him to join Alexis in the group hug, giggling. The others all laughed too, and hugged Melanie as well before setting the two down. Melanie made short work of fixing Alexis's hair before stepping back and nodding affirmation that she was ready for the world. Alexis giggled, and walked to the door, picking up her bag.
"Take care now! And remember to stay safe and hidden!" Luke called, worry in his eyes like always. Alexis, who knew she was already a little later than planned because of the goodbyes, simply nodded before walking downstairs and out into the street. It was broad daylight, so rooftop travel would be suspicious. Plus Alexis did enjoy walking through the streets every now and again. People recognised her from being friends with their children, and gave her warm smiles and made way for her. She felt welcome.
 
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"Old man weighs a tonne." Abner mumbled, exhaustion gracing his features as he held their recently deceased business manager, straining under the weight.
They had had enough respect to wrap him up in a cover, making him look vaguely like a shining bed sheet in the moonlight.
"Shut up and move." Minerva snarled, showing her strength by yanking Abner along. Moving towards the bridge with determination. Chance had stayed at home, organising things from the house and clearing up the mess, the debris in the wake of the fight. Probably back at home nonchalantly turning chairs the right way, cracking jokes without there being anyone to listen to them. Psycho.
Chance would certainly not be in any position to hear them, for after the events of the evening she had collapsed into an arm chair and turned effectively mute for the night. Leaving Abner and Minerva to get rid of the evidence.
They scurried along the streets like alleycats, trying their best not to look guilty or suspicious. Which was exactly what they looked like. Then again, they always did.
Lamplight shone over their clothing, Minerva turning her collar up against the bitter wind and narrowing her eyes, "Let's just get him to the bridge." Abner wrung his hands, perfectly aware of how exposed they were, how easy it was to be spotted. They reached the edge, staring down into the dark waters and the treacherous fall with concentration. They swung.
One. Two. Three. There was a thundering splash and an echo. Minerva urged the water to be quiet, to accept their offering with it's open rippling arms, Abner just screwing his eyes shut and hoping no one caught their movements. But who would be alone, walking in the dead of night anyway? He shivered.

"Yeah? Well I hope you're happy." Dominic growled down the phone, tapping his cigarette against an ashtray. "All these happy people, in this restaurant that we booked in advance. It's Valentine's Day for Christ's sake!" He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, anger reigniting in his eyes when he heard what the person on the other end had to say.
"No, don't give me that lousy excuse! Okay? I've been waiting for fucking..." He checked his watch. "Fourty five minutes! And you have the audacity to tell me you're stuck in traffic!" He slammed his fist on the table, enphasising his point. The Harpy narrows his eyes, snorting.
"Yeah. Whatever. I don't give a shit." He clicks his phone off, turning his head to the waiter standing patiently by the table in silence. He manages an awkward smile. "Valentine's Day, huh?" It's another fifteen minutes until he watches the restaurant door swing open again, a bored expression on his face, expecting another happy couple to come bustling in. The Harpy's eyes widen when he sees his partner, drenched in rain and scanning the tables. He buries his face in his claws, wings twitching in irritation.
"So there you are, huh? Come to show your sorry face-"
Roman sits down in the seat across from him, showing barely any expression on his face. "Traffic." He stated, expecting Dominic to fire away with more heated words. They sat in silence instead, Dominic moving the cutlery set out with a frown.
"I got something to show you." Roman said after a while, and Dominic's face twisted.
"What? What can you show me that'll make anything better after this whole... Mess." He watches the Jackalope root around in his pockets, going from angry and incredibly ruffled to more curious after he hears a bag rustling.
The glasses clink as Roman dumps the bag on the table, eyes locking with the Harpy in a strange intensity.
"Yeah yeah, OK." He crinkles the bag, looking inside.
The Harpy lets out a choked sound, once he caught sight of the contents inside the bag, looking up and pressing a claw to his mouth. A human hand.
"Roman... That's so nice." His eyes clouding and his mouth quirked upwards. "Aw shit, now I feel guilty." Roman smiled, looking rather smug, a change from his usual expressionless face.
"S'why I was late. Had to outbid some Chupacabra for it."
He kissed his partner on the cheek. "Thanks, darling."
 
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Jet sighed, walking back to the apartment. Important mission indeed. She let a small chuckle slip as the bag swung at her side, the contents rustling and clinking as they moved. She hadn't just been shopping for herself, which is why she'd had to disguise it as a mission. She did have plans for herself, but not just herself. No, today- Valentine's Day- was the day she planned to hook her two boys up finally. Alexis gave a questioning look from her side, as if to ask how she knew. The smaller girl had caught her on her way back.
"Don't act like you haven't seen, Alexis, they're constantly gawking at each other!" The two of them giggled, walking up the steps to their apartment above the cafe. "I'm home!" she chimed, swinging the door open.
Almost instantly Luke was there, bustling them in. Alexis zipped off to see Melanie when he asked "What's-" and he was shoved up against the wall, Jet's hands on either side of his head and her lips pressed to his. Her wings fluttered, showing her embarrassment in the extremely cliche move- but cliche was what Luke liked, she found, as she pulled away to see Luke with a face the colour of a cherry. She bust out into laughter, plonking her head onto his shoulder, to which he averted his gaze and let out a quiet embarrassed noise. She poked his nose playfully and sauntered off into the kitchen. He followed.
"Seriously though, am I not allowed to ask what's in that?" he asked again. Jet smiled, placing it on the table and pulling out a small bundle of brown wrapping paper. She tossed it to him, and he had to scramble to catch it before it hit the floor. He very nearly fell in its place, but managed to recover himself in order to stare in curiosity at first her, then the bag, then back at her. She simply winked and sauntered out with another bundle, hip-checking him as she left, causing him to stumble into the side counter with wide eyes. Her laugh as she left nearly made him melt. Gods, he was a sappy pushover these days.
....that was probably something Jet would say. He let out a chuckle at the thought, unwrapping the present.
Inside lay a simple heart box, which was nothing remarkable. Typical of her, almost. But this was Jet they were talking about. She would have some sort of surprise somewhere. As a result, he held it far away from his face and opened it away from him. There was silence for a couple of seconds, and then he dared to open his eyes when he found there was no explosion or daggers leaping out.
Jet was leaning against the doorway with an amused expression.
He cursed under his breath, his cheeks staining red at being caught in the act, before turning the box around to look inside. There was the typical arrangement of chocolates, which didn't surprise him. What lay in the center made his breath hitch. It was a simple band of gold, but the message was clear. A ring. He looked up at her to see that lazy grin of hers work its way across her face as she pushed herself up from the doorframe and sauntered over to him.
"Well," she said, plucking the ring out of the box. He set it to one side so he could pull her close. "I figured you're too much of a dork to make this step, so I reckoned I'd do it for you. It's not tradition, but whatever. D'you accept?"
He grinned, resting his forehead against hers. "You're insufferable, Jet." he muttered.
That aggravating lazy smirk remained as she slipped the ring onto his finger, her voice almost teasing in the way she knew hit so many nerves. "I'll take that a yes."
 
She takes Abner to her apartment, pushing him in the car hidden in the dark with the engine still running. Abner stays silent for most of the journey, only muttering something as they reach her apartment. "Thanks." She doesn't say anything in response, only swings the door open and stumbles in, all etiquette forgotten.
As soon as she gets back to her small little home, she rushes to the bathroom and locks herself in, leaving her brother out in the hallway to settle in. He doesn't ask if she's alright, doesn't knock at the door, instead leaves her in the bathroom and sits on her couch, eyes wandering to the moonlight shining through the curtains.
Minerva rushes to the sink, leans over it and yanks the taps on full blast, scrubbing at her hands obsessively. One by one she cleans each hand, soapy water draining down the plughole as the water slowly heats. The spider washes away the evening's events quietly, expecting there to be tiny minute bits of it clinging to her hands. She only remembers not to burn herself when steam rises from the sink, clouding the bathroom mirror.
"Happy Valentines." She says to herself, turning the taps off then drying her hands and sitting near the side of the bathtub.
The arachnid recalls the only girl she's ever loved in the dark, blinking at her hands in the gloom.
"Do you seriously mean you can play the accordion?" The wasp girl had asked with wide eyes, steadying herself against the opening of the nest. She knows she shouldn't be doing this, talking to the hive's very enemy while her sisters sleep quietly in their beds, but now she can't help herself.
Minerva chuckles, nodding her head. "Yup! Guess I have an advantage with these things."
"What's that?"
"A lot of hands." She grins stupidly, and Cullette manages a careful smile too. The hive hums quietly behind them and Minerva shifts her legs so they kick outwards, hands steadying herself behind her back.
"Can you tell the future?" The girl asks, curiously. Minerva shrugs, because she knows her kind were supposed to be able to. According to myth, they were the foretellers of better times to come, reading past and future events across their webs, but now she's not so sure. But the wasp girl doesn't know about any of that, doesn't know that nobody makes webs anymore, so she messes with her.
"For a price." She states simply.
She balances herself against the bathtub's edge, counting quietly to herself, willing the noise to go away. She breathes deeply and unlocks the door to the bathroom, stumbling into the living room.
 
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((Haha I guess writing's currently a form of therapy for me at the moment so I don't mind if anybody sees this I just want to get this off my chest. Y'know, when the inspiration is flowing and all that! Even if it's all shitty, and I keep switching tenses, even if it's all run-on sentences, it's probably good for me to carry on doing this sort of thing. I'm learning I guess.))


And there you have it, folks. Minerva sat the closest to the Vespa's living place as she could. She'd left her brother in her apartment the night before, sneaking out so she wouldn't wake him up. It was a stupid thing to do, in retrospect, but she did it anyway. Because there was hope, that the girl she loved might be staying there. Might be. She wasn't going to make a sweeping generalization and get her heart broken, she wasn't going to get her hopes up, she was just going to sit. She watched the students walk past, filtering through the buzzing hive and disappearing out the entrance. Their wings unlatched in the bright sun as they took off. Sometimes she wished she had wings. She wished she was as impressive as they all looked together. But the truth was she wasn't all that much. She wasn't clean efficiency, she wasn't cold and clinical, and she wasn't much like the Vespa's shared perfect formation either. Which is what the Vespa's were, (what they were made for really) when you got down to it. So ready to succeed for their hive, so ready to sacrifice, so so perfect. Even now they all looked identical in the sun, some giving nervous glances to the possible danger sitting on the sidelines as they walked by. She didn't mean any harm. She gave them a smile and a brief wave. One rowed with sharp teeth and laced with a certain anxiety they couldn't see. An authoritarian Wasp walked by, flashing her stripes like a grimace when she caught sight of the arachnid. She wore a uniform and a nasty expression, as if having to clear up an undesirable mess.
"I'm going to have to ask you to vacate the premises." She states, voice crisp and loud. Enough to alert the attention of the other wasps. Minerva looked up and met her eyes like she had nothing to lose. "I'm sorry, Miss.." She checked the badge brandished proudly on the wasp's chest. "Percival. But I'm going to have to tell you that I can't do that right now. I'm waiting. For a friend."
The wasp stiffened. "There are no friends waiting for you in this hive. Only, as you may know, potential prey for your kind. They will fight fearlessly in the face of danger, you realize."
Minerva flashed her a lazy smile that only seemed to agrivate the wasp. "What makes you say that?" The wasp cut in before she could finish her question.
"You know our relationship with the Araneae. All those brave lives lost to you kind." There was an aggressiveness to her droning buzz now, something that warned a struggle if the arachnid did not cooperate.
"Now. I don't mean to disrespect, miss Percival of the authoritarian wasp training program, member of POTH, or Protectors Of The Hive. I honestly don't. But didn't you people tell a whole other story during winter? Why, I can remember at least twenty of your beautiful sisters sacrificing themselves to us last year due to low food provisions. We certainly didn't attack them. They gave themselves up." She shrugged, playing simple. "It's not our fault if we're given extra sisters, as you might call them, during winter. We usually accept them. What was it again? That old saying. A sister for a secret." That hit a nerve. The wasp's mandibles clicked and her antennae twitched.
"Those were brave sisters. Not weaklings your kin could take advantage of. They saved our hive during the harsh winter season." The wasp pointed out, and Minerva sighed.
"Listen, uh, miss Percival, I'm not here to start a fight. Like I said, I'm just waiting for a friend." She smiled softly, non-menacingly, frustratingly innocent in her words. Even fluttered her eyelashes slightly much to the Vespa's annoyance.
"I don't know what you're planning, arachnid, but if you step one foot near our nest, I can assure you, there will be consequences." Her words blurred into her low-pitched threatening drone, making the wasp sound almost robotic in her response. With that, she turned on her heels and marched on. She'd issued her warning.
Minerva laughed at the careful looks directed at her, (some that seemed to follow her pleasant discussion with the wasp) and went back to waiting.
 
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"Jeeeeeettttt"
"...."
"Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetttttttttttttt"
"..."
"JET!"
"GAHWHAT"
Finally, Jet leaped up from her desk with a cry. Luke nearly fell over laughing, much to the raven-haired girl's annoyance, but regained his composure to say "Melanie's got another friend."
"That's worrying, who is it?"
"Uh, well all I know is that it flies, it's black and it's messy."
Jet turned around, eyes wide with horror. "Please don't tell me she tamed another-"
"CRAAAAWWK"
"...raven." muttered Jet, as Melanie ran in giggling. Sure enough, a raven followed behind her, and she stopped in front of Jet with a wide grin on her face.
Melanie had finally seemed to become comfortable a couple of months ago, and it had become apparent that she had a thing for birds and larger animals, like dogs and the wolves in the forests. Bring her near a rat and she ran scared, but around any sort of birds- even crows and magpies, which were known to go for your eyes- she seemed to love them. She found it easy to tame birds. Other animals were more of a problem, but she seemed to have a new bird almost every other week. It had become a regular occurence now to see feathered friends in the house- and even more feathers on the floor- and corvids such as crows and ravens seemed to be her favourite. Jet theorised it was the wings, and colouration; her and Alexis both had the same black sheen to their wings, and she thought Melanie might associate the darker birds with them because of it.
Children of her age were quite impressionable, after all.
Still, she thought as she watched the raven land tamely on Melanie's arm, the dark-skinned girl beaming and gently petting the tuft of feathers atop the corvid's head. It did mean she got to see the human child happy, and she supposed that was a new thing they would just have to welcome.
Luke grimaced as yet another bird poop joined the growing pile on the floor.
Jet sighed.
Even if it was a messy welcome.
 
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"Man.." Dominic rubbed his forehead, sighing. "We checked out all the neighbouring places, and apparently they're in the race for the kid too, and there were no sightings in the other parts we checked out, so..." He talked in a hushed tone inside his partner's car, almost animatedly muttering to himself. Often, in the event that Dominic had no one to talk to, he would consult himself on certain matters. It was a quirk, but a useful one for him. By plotting things out and bringing forth observations, (even if there were no one there to listen to him chatter) he found it would clear his head and give him a new perspective he hadn't even considered.
"So that must mean either the kid's fled the entire place, and crossed overseas somewhere, or they're still here. And this city's still getting the odd sightings, which is hopeful, but at the same time it could be just paranoia and fake eyewitness accounts..."
He furrowed his brow, tapping a claw on the dashboard and letting forth another barrage of sentences and speculations.
"Plus, to top it all off we haven't been in contact with the Chief yet, apart from our correspondence with Fang, which could mean he's pissed off with us not being able to do our job, or it could mean he just hasn't been in contact and I'm making a big deal out of it."
He felt a migraine coming on and in response pressed his head into the back of the seat firmly.
"Ok, OK. Get yourself together. You seriously don't want Chief to end your sorry existence for continual fuckups and a prolonged mission," He swished his claw to the side, tilting his head, "And you seriously don't want your mute Jackalope partner to pay for both of your screw-ups either, so maybe the best thing you can do is find the kid, get payed, and be on good terms with the Chief."
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the voice inside of his head, nagging him about the child. If in the event you actually manage to track the kid down, the small part of him hissed, what are you going to do then?! Let it get sold on the Black Market in pieces? Face it, you can't do it!
"Fuck!"
 
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Jet rubbed her temples. It was getting harder to hide the child, as much as she hated to admit it. Even worse, her own urges were getting rougher to control around the child, who was now tugging on her pant leg, looking up at her with worry-filled eyes. She looked down at them, and ruffled their hair a tiny bit, lost in thought. Galzra and Azur were almost constantly sent out on mission after mission, to which they obeyed with a simple "Yes ma'am!" And on the rare occasions they dared disobey, Alexis beat them into submission. It seemed she was the only one not getting any urges, but at the same time she picked up on the frustration the others felt. It made her worryingly more violent.
She was going to have to find a new place to hide Melanie. At the very least until this month passed. The only trouble was that this was the only safe haven for the child that she knew. Everywhere else will be looked in now, and there was no way she could hand it over to another.
What about Cecilia? a small voice in her head piped up.
That made her consider.
The Aster-Pitch manor was huge. She could hide Melanie in there, in Cecilia's care, with ease and without fear of the child getting discovered until the urges passed. Then again, she wasn't even sure if Cecilia would be a particularly avid fan to what was essentially smuggling a tiny human child away for a month or more. She knew Cecilia liked children, liked how they tended to match her adventurous nature; and looking at Melanie now, she saw how the child would enjoy the massive gardens they owned. And maybe the griffin, too, should the griffin not immediately seek to destroy the child for its own meal.
Of course, the other option was to turn the child in, or attempt to smuggle it back across the borders...but looking down at Melanie, she quickly ruled those out. She'd spent so long guarding the child that it was a huge waste to give up and turn her in now, and she was such a precious being it would break the heart of everyone in the household. She knew Melanie already missed the older boys, whom she'd come to see as her brothers. Everyone would miss the kid if she was turned in. The borders would be an option, but they were so heavily guarded she doubted even Alexis could get the child across safely.
Which meant that her two remaining options were to risk keeping her here, or attempt to smuggle her to Cecilia.
Melanie was now hiding behind her as Luke rounded the corner, growling, eyes red and staring straight at the child. As Jet braced herself for a fight, Alexis shot forward, tackling Luke back through the doorway and out of sight with an animalistic yowl.
That settled it. Jet's eyes narrowed, and she scooped up Melanie and ran into her room with the child. They were confused, but remained silent- not like they had a choice. Jet set them down, quickly shut and locked the door, then turned around and crouched down to their height, bracing both hands on their shoulders.
"Listen, Melanie, I'm gonna need you to be a very brave child for me now, okay? You might be separate from us for a while." Pain flickered in the child's eyes and Jet winced. "Okay, it's not safe for you to stay here. You saw Luke, you saw your brothers. There's a certain month each year where most creatures in these districts are out for human flesh when in the presence of said human. I've kept you safe for this long, but I don't know if I can do that for this month. I have a friend in the upper districts who is less likely to try and kill you, and I'm going to see if we can get you there for a month, but you're going to have to follow everything she and I say, okay?"
Melanie considered this for a bit. A low growl rumbled through the door- Luke, again. Alexis burst through and slammed the door shut, panting, eyes wide. Her clothes were mussed up from the fight. At the sight of her friend Melanie's eyes widened. She nodded, hastily, and grabbed a black bag from the closet.
"I knocked him out," Alexis said, panting as Melanie climbed into the sack. "We won't have long to get out of here."
Jet nodded. "We're going to Cecilia's. Think you can manage to keep others off our tail?"
"Different idea." She quickly checked Melanie was comfortable, before sharing a nod with the child, tying up the bag and slinging it on her back. "They won't see us, but they'll see you. I'll take Melanie to Cecilia's house, you go on your own. I'll meet you there." Without another word, she melted into the shadows.
Jet sighed as she heard a louder growl from behind the door. Luke was stirring. Shaking her head as a flash of red lit up her own eyes and got shaken out, she leapt out and into the night.
She just prayed she could make it to her friend's in time.
 
By the time the Jackalope arrived, carrying a bag and stuffing it into the backseat, Dominic looked thoroughly miserable.
"Look man, I've been thinking. Let's just fuck it all. Go back to my place and lay low."
The Jackalope gave him a questioning look, making the Harpy feel the need to specify. "My place. You know, city of the vain and pleasure seeking and all that crap you told me about my roosting grounds." He catches sight of Roman's gruff expression. "Hear me out. Since The Days are coming round again, everyone in the city's practically lusting over some human meat. Sales are going to be up by the thousands. The way I see it, someone's bound to find the kid soon, and I have a hypothesis on how that might go down, if you get my drift. Chief won't like the idea of a kid he sent us to find, torn apart by some starving city-goer and in no condition to sell off to the highest bidder. I mean, I don't even trust myself around the kid now, never mind anyone else. Kid's supposed to be brought back in one piece. I don't think we'll have any luck with that."
Roman's vacant expression told Dominic he hadn't explained all that well. "What I mean is, it's now or never. I'm asking you your opinion, man. We either skip town and avoid the Chief's wrath, or find the kid in the next couple of days."
Roman's reply was short, pushing back the hair draping over his horns and staring at his partner with an unnerving amount of intensity.
"I've never failed a job before. We're finding that kid."
Dominic lowered his head. He'd hoped the Jackalope was smart enough to chose the first option and get the hell out of there while they still could.

Minerva, looking as bedraggled as ever, checked her watch. The whole situation reminded her of that night. When she'd met Cullette in the darkened streets and swiped the crimson from her lips and acted as casual as she could with her. The fact that she'd just killed another hybrid irrelevant.
"You know, it is cruel, what you do." The wasp girl's words echoed in her head like the droning of the hive. She had recently come to the conclusion that the reason for her existence was down to a lot of things.
It also coincided with why her kind were treat like shit.
History showed that in the early days, every year around winter time, the Vespas would throw out an exact number of two hundred wasps from the hive as part of a ceremony. The reason for this? Those that were weak were taking too much space up in the hive. All those hive elders that had gone senile over time, especially the smaller weaker hatchlings who were no good for labour work, were officially purged from the hive, in the hopes that the other wasps would grow up to be strong. The hive was as cold and as uncaring as ever, but it apparently helped weed out the ones who were not fit for survival in their own pristine, clinical world.
Naturally, those that were evicted from the hive were hurled to the spiders. The Araneae had no natural enemies in those ancient times, only a hunger for violence and Vespa blood. The hive authority members thought it fit to put on such a horrifying display for members currently inside the hive, to remind the sisters that they were as disposable as the others, if they did not show their potential early enough. Her kind would gather in clusters in the winter time, each kind lacking food provisions and starving, just waiting to kill the working sisters when the time came.
Their kind were enemies. The Araneae's arrival only a greedy counterpart to a vicious ceremony.
None of that happened in the city anymore, however. Not in Minerva's day and age. But the resentment was still there. The sprouting bouts of both fear from the Vespa's and outrage about what the spiders had done to their kin. Really, it was the hive authority members that were to blame, for they were the ones that had put on these cruel ceremonies, however the Araneae were still blamed nevertheless. After all, no one wants to blame the very hybrids that were the foundations of their kind for past problems.
So yeah, maybe Cullette and her had their friction. But it hadn't always been like that. When they were both young and innocent, when neither of them had been educated on their kin's long and bloody past, they had been friends. It was only until the Vespa's "education" stage kicked in did they learn about The Araneae. Their friendship had been severed after that, discarded as if it had never happened between them. But Minerva was desperate to change all that.
 
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Cecilia carded grey fingers through Altair's feathers and smiled absently as he hummed his approval. The Griffin was sprawled lavishly on her four-poster bed, claws flexing and unflexing as she petted all his favourite spots. The French doors to her balcony were wide open, allowing a mild spring breeze in, and Cecilia stared out at the inky night sky, hosting girlish daydreams of running away and defying her father and making her life mean something. An ornate record player sat poised on her dresser, but it was silent; there was faint music coming from somewhere in the city that floated on the wind to the Wendigo's acute ears, and she much preferred listening to that than any of her own albums. In her belly, a warm fuzz echoed the champagne she'd had that night – yet another upper-class dinner. She was still sat in her dress, with her hair pinned back and makeup lighting up her features. Nothing much had happened; she'd sat and smiled and made small talk, soaking up the lazy pleasures of being filthy rich.
"You look like your mother, you know," one werewolf woman had said, and Cecilia's chest had swelled with pride – the Clara Aster-Pitch in her memory was reckless and beautiful and untamed. She wanted to be like that; to leave a mark on everyone she met. To live on, to be a presence in their lives, even if she wasn't there.
Altair lifted his head suddenly, ears twitching and circling in a way Cecilia instantly recognised.
"What's up, Al?" she asked, whisper-quiet, following his intense gaze to her balcony. It was spacious, enough for a table and chair and a small forest of plants, but other than these it was empty. Blackness stretched out beyond it, only interrupted by the street lights far below her wing of the manor and the stars far above it. Her hand was buried deep in the chocolate feathers of Altair's shoulders, squeezing slightly to comfort herself as her guardian continued to stare. It was almost as if something was out there – something she couldn't see or sense, but that he could.
 
The shadows on her balcony seemed to flicker, drawing towards the centre. Alexis flickers back into life in the middle of the pile, collapsing onto the floor with a gasp and sending the shadows skittering back to their natural place. The bag thumps against her back and knocks her flat on her stomach with a further grunt. A cracking sound resounds from her fragile wings, caught underneath the weight of the bag, and she bites back a further screech of pain. Her eyes snap open, and she stares up at Cecilia in a silent cry for assistance.
 
Cecilia stood hurriedly, a gasp of shock escaping her, and stared for a moment at the creature on her balcony. She'd never seen the girl before, but all the same she seemed familiar; Altair was by her side in a flash and advancing, clicking his beak.
"Stand down, Al," she ordered quietly, grabbing a tuft of his feathers without taking her wide brown eyes off the girl and the bag. He gave a rumbling growl low in his throat, but Cecilia took a moment to glare icily at him and he obeyed her for the moment, slowing his stalk forward. The girl's countenance was pleading, and she was struggling under the weight of that bag – filled with stark fear though she was at this sudden appearance, the Pitch Heiress began tentatively to move closer.
"Don't worry, I – I'm going to help," she said, clutching at the fabric of her floor-length ball gown. Was this adventure? It certainly didn't feel like she thought it would. Already she missed the safety and money-fuelled warmth of the dinner party. She started to crouch, elbowing Altair out of the way and ignoring his angry squawk; reaching out tentatively, her fingers clasped the bag and rolled it off the girl. She was up in a flash, seizing a nearby lamp and brandishing it in front of her. Altair's feathers were fluffed and his wings arched above his head – he screeched again, gruff and grating: a warning.
"Who are you? W-What do you want from me?"
 
"H-Help," Alexis gasped. "Jet- I'm Jet's child. She-She was coming but the-the hunger-" Her expression was haunted. Panic was an emotion she hadn't experienced, and the feeling made her even more scared. Jet's face terrified her. "She told me-told me she could trust you."
It took a few moments for her to get her breath back and calm herself down enough to move, fumbling to her hands and knees. With that done, she gave a glance up to the people in front of her. Sharp eyes flashed with pure fear as her gaze fell upon the griffin, and she moved into a much more defensive state.
Wincing and shaking, Alexis crawled over to the bag as quickly as she could. It wriggled, and she fumbled desperately with the knot, as hands inside pressed frantically against the entrance, trying to assist. A gasp came from inside as it finally came undone, mingling with Alexis' own. The dark material fell to the side, revealing a girl with chocolate skin and green hair, dressed in a frilly blue dress matching her eyes. Alexis leaned on her knees, and she pressed her forehead to that of Melanie's, golden eyes shutting in relief as she wrapped her arms tight around her friend with a shuddering sigh. Her wings hung limply on her back, several joints at awkward angles, now ignoring the two in front of them. Her coal-dark skin was marred with scratches and what looked to be a couple of bite marks, and looking at her properly it was seen that her hair was ruffled, filled with twigs and leaves and mud. There were hints of what would once have been plaits tied near the base of her hair. Crimson trickled down her skin, now more visible after the rough landing. Her black tight-fitting outfit, the common suit of an assassin, was rumpled, a few rips showing. Alexis paid her injuries no mind, focusing solely on consoling a frightened Melanie, who gradually turned wide blue eyes away from the two in front of them and to their friend, pressing their foreheads together and shutting their eyes. Alexis mumbled soothing words and Melanie's mouth moved, but no sound came out.
 
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Cautiously, Cecilia lowered her impractical weapon so that it hung from one hand and studied the two girls on her balcony. They were both rich and dark in skin tone, not fair and papery like her, but undoubtedly of separate species to one another. The one who had spoken – Jet's daughter, or some equivalent of that – was winged and had hair as inky-black as the shadows she had seemingly materialised out of. The other, though… Cecilia's nostrils flared despite herself. She felt her breath hitch and fangs grind together, because the blue-eyed creature was riddled with the stench of a human.
Altair lashed his tail against the carpet and prowled a little closer to the strangers; threats to his sister and charge and friend. Beautiful mocha-brown wings shifted restlessly on his back, and as one of the creatures looked at him he clicked his beak, loud and menacing.
"Al!" Cecilia replaced the lamp so she stood weaponless and tugged on the wing of her Griffin – since his shoulders were level with her waist, he could certainly be imposing when he wanted to. "These kids were sent here by Jet – they won't hurt me. I don't think." She ran a soothing hand through his feathers but the creature only growled gutturally and snorted a hot rush of angry air.
Cecilia stood a little awkwardly for some moments before crouching once more by the girls, eyes flickering between them.
"What can I help you two with?" she asked as sweetly as she could muster, trying to ignore the saliva gathering on her tongue because of the smell of flesh. "Do you want to come inside or something?"
 
Alexis moved to place herself in front of Melanie, protectively, the child cowering behind her. "That would be nice." She held Melanie's hand, gently tugging them to their feet, and guided them in, keeping herself firmly between them and the two in front of her. Golden eyes stared up at Cecilia, with distrust and a little curiosity. They studied her for a moment- fair skin, royal, rich, sheltered. This was the one.
"Your name is Cecilia Aster-Pitch. You are close friends with my mother. She speaks fondly of you. As such, she wanted to entrust Melanie here in your care until the hunger month passes. It's only because she trusts you and suggested the idea I brought Melanie here at all. I will trust you too, for the time being, simply because we have little other choice." Melanie, at the mention of her name, peeked out from their place cowering behind Alexis.
"Jet would have come here to say so herself, however..." She shuddered, looking away as the memories flooded her mind despite her best attempts to keep them out.
"I was travelling with her, keeping Melanie in that sack- their idea-" Melanie hastily nodded confirmation. "-to avoid detection. And then...we paused to get our surroundings, and Jet was acting strange. She was hunched over on all fours, wings quivering. I came out of the shadows, and her head snapped up. Her eyes were pure red, no other detail, and she charged straight for me, mistaking me for Melanie probably because I have her scent on me. I very nearly fell victim to her hunger, but I managed to get myself and Melanie away safely." She looked down, holding one of her arms. Blood was seeping between her fingers. "As such, it appears I cannot return home either until the month is over. I completed the journey here on my own accord, but by the time I managed to find your balcony I had not enough strength to keep myself properly concealed, hence why I made that...ungraceful landing."
Her golden eyes panned to the side to fix Altair with a curious gaze. She seemed rather unfazed by his size and intimidating poise. "I'll admit, I've never seen a griffin before." She managed a grin. "I do know, however, he could easily rip the both of us to pieces if we provide a threat. But, if what my mother says is true, and you can be trusted to keep...well, us now, safe until the month passes, then we won't give him a reason to do so. Mother said that the hunger doesn't affect this part of the city, and I can only pray that to be so, because home is no longer safe for either of us, and well, you're the only hope we have left for a safe haven." She did her best to give a reassuring smile, but the pain for travelling in shadow injured was starting to become more apparent, and the joints from her now-broken wings were pounding pain through her body. It showed in the smile.
 
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Cecilia stood in silence for a few moments, her rosebud lips slightly parted in disbelief. Just minutes ago she'd been draped across her four-poster like a Princess in a tower, daydreaming about adventure – and now here it was, in the form of two little girls desperate for a place to stay.
It's certainly less glamorous than I was expecting, she thought guiltily, catching sight of the muddy footprints left by the creatures on her carpet. How was she going to explain those to Vera, or the other servants? How was she going to keep this a secret at all? Still, a fluttery sort of pride flooded her chest at the thought of Jet considering her trustworthy enough to look after her most prized possession – her own child. And the human – the human she had heard so much about. It dawned on Cecilia, as she closed and locked the balcony doors, that she had the most valuable thing in the entire city standing in her bedroom.
"W-Well… I'll do my best to help you," she said, drawing the curtains and turning to the girls. Pausing a moment, her brows knitted together and a more determined expression settled over her features. "No. I will help you. My father's out tonight, so I have the run of the house, bar the servants. I can get things from the kitchens and bring them up here, so you won't ever have to leave the west wing. That way, you stand much less chance of being discovered… but first." She turned more fully to Alexis. When she spoke again, determination was still vibrant in her words, but concern filled them, too. "You look hurt. Badly –" her eyes roved the blood covering the creature and caught the look of pain in her gaze, "I'll dress your wounds as best I can, or at least give you the tools to do it. I have sedatives, too, and painkillers! I-If you want them, of course."
 
Alexis nodded. "Painkillers- painkillers sound good." That had gone a lot better than she'd thought it would. "Melanie is unharmed mostly, but Jet- well, she's a fierce fighter, as I'm sure you know. And we didn't exactly anticipate that we'd run into a fight, so we didn't bother with packing healing stuff." Melanie took a seat on the carpet behind her, trying her best to clean the dirt that Alexis had left. "If there are tools we can use for cleaning that you can get, as well, then Melanie can probably remove the mess from the carpet that we made. I...apologise for that."
 
Minerva had finally caught sight of the wasp girl making her way into the hive instead of out, and couldn't stop herself from calling out. She'd waited for now an hour or so and she was tired. And embarrassingly hopeful.
"Hey! You! Girl in the blue sweater!"
Cullette had recognised the voice immediately, and had spun around on her heels, narrowing her eyes. Then, like a switch flicking, she feigned ignorance and turned her head to the side.
"Who are you, exactly?" She tried to remain composure, moving faster into the other crowds of wasps entering the large building in the hopes the girl would give up.
Other Vespas turned to stare at Cullette in response, and she felt anger raise indignantly in her chest. So visiting her sisters had been a bad idea.
"Oh come off it Lett, it's me, Minerva!" The girl shouted across, attracting more attention. "You know, your good old bestie before everything went to shit?"
Cullette turned to face the other now thoroughly confused sisters, and pushed past them, hoping to discourage the arachnid from trying to engage with her by intimidating her.
Once they were in talking distance, the wasp cast Minerva such a frosty glare the girl almost wilted.
"Look, Lett. I want to talk. Seriously talk."
Cullette hissed. "So you stalk me back to my own home?"
Minerva shook her head. "Everyone knows you don't live here. In fact, I just happened to be passing by." She said smugly. That was a lie.

"You know we can't see each other, Minerva." The use of her full name made something in the girl's heart flutter. It had always been Min or Minnie. Never Minerva.
"And I don't know what you're doing here, even if you are just passing through."
Minerva clenched her jaw. "That's bullshit and you know it. This whole thing.." She motioned to the hive, "Taught you that. It's not true. I'm seeing you right now, unless I'm dreaming it."
The Vespa shook her head in response, "I've given you enough time to leave me alone. I told you, we can't be friends anymore." The sharp crushing mandibles by her mouth twitched in irritation, her constant humming reaching a higher frequency.
With steely resolve, the spider responded, perhaps still a contradictory hint of tenderness in her voice.
"Well good. 'Cuz I don't want to be friends anymore."
The wasp was drawn in now, ready to consider what the other had to say, even if her interaction with the spider was attracting negative attention.
Minerva sighed. "Ok? I want to date you. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your girlfriend." She paused, "And I want to talk to you again. You can't say you didn't feel it to. We were a pair, and force to be fuckin' reckoned with. We were perfect, Letts. You just can't... Brush that all away like this. Even if those bastards at HQ have drummed it into you that I'm just going to cheat you like all the rest, and that my kin means only disgrace to you, at the end of the day, I know you."
Minerva could almost see the mask falling, the cold insistent pressures to uphold the Vespa status giving way to something else. For a moment they were silent, and the girl pressed her hand to her chest, her beating heart reminding her that what she just did was real and irreversible.
"I just know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Even if it's really, really stupid, there's your explanation as to why I came here." She spread her palms open in a way as if she had nothing to lose now.
 
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Cecilia allowed herself to give a tiny smile.
"Oh, no, it's nothing," she said, brushing down her ballgown. "After what you two have been through, you can make all the mess you like." She opened a drawer in her bedside cabinet and sought out the painkillers she kept there for cramps, then handed them to Alexis, smiling thinly at Melanie. She was blanching inwardly at the thought of the grubby children sitting on her white silken sheets, but she could hardly leave them on the floor. Her gaze found Altair's for a second and he only clicked his beak knowingly; he was well aware of what his blood-sister was fretting about.
"You're welcome to the bath, and I'll find somewhere safe for you to sleep," she nodded as if speaking more to herself than to them, "are you hungry? I can fetch food!"
 
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