Chương 56: Undercover doo do do doo

They called it the Hoot. It used to be called the Riot, but after an unfortunate incident involving a rooster, a bucket of magical superglue, and too much punch in too few people, the yearly get-together of anyone with even a hint of wereshifter blood or talent had to be renamed. Isaac 'heavenly direstrike' Forbes always blamed everything besides the punch.

The feathered werepeacock was mostly annoyed that he didn't have a place to kick back, relax, and scout out the new blood every semester to the tune of free drinks. Of course, the drinks weren't really free past the first semester. The yearly soulcoin fee he paid in tribute to the Lodges went towards organizing events, and with them, entertainment. Could've at least not watered the drinks down so much.

He swished his thin fruity whatever-it-was in his plastic cup when the bouncer at the door — big woman, arms like tree trunks, not his type — let in someone who very much was. Curly dark hair, ample thighs. Oh là là. Hiya, short stuff. Her face was hidden behind a hoodie, but that didn't mean much. A flicker of anticipation, and a modified [Analyze] gave him everything from her three sizes to body fat percentages and likely eating habits. Sporty. Weirdly heavy, probably hiding some flab under that hoodie.

Slightly vitamin C and beta-carotene deficient. But otherwise… a nice and tightly packed package. Isaac enjoyed few things as much as the excited squeals of women he could hang off of his arms. But since he only ever put in the bare minimum to pass BatTac II and building Body was a waste of essences, that reduced the pool of possible paramours of the prideful peacock precipitously. He didn't mind. Short girls were fun in different ways too.

Confident, he emptied his cup in a nearby planterbox and swung himself to his feet, casually and with imperceptible smoothness moving forward, ensuring he'd collide with her in half a minute purely on accident. And then: Eyes, lights, feathers. Make it seem like fate. They all like feeling important; women, Custodians, us werefolk. The fated moment was almost there. Around a group of weremarmots plotting ways to expand the communal planter beds, Isaac wound, staring up at the ceiling and counting the seconds.

A bump. He looked down with a smile. His eyes went wide. He recoiled, plush tailfeathers poofing out in an instinct he thought he'd trained out of himself.

"Oh god it's you!"

"Hello there, Isaac." Adelaide's smile was predatory.

"Care for a drink? +++ A few minutes earlier.

"Alright, here's the crossing," Adelaide said while Becca aped her in a robotic tone.

"HOOT. HO-OT. HOOOooo…"

"Left leads to the Hoot, formerly the Riot. Right leads… wherever you're going."

"HOOT HOOT. OW." Orianna shifted in place.

"I really hope they don't mind me inviting Sam to the Big Blood Bonanza."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so exclusive then," Addy shot back.

"Maybe you shouldn't presume to know so much about everything when you're part of the reason that is perpetuating said exclusion—""Oh my god, girls." I groaned, practically having to pry the two off of each other.

"This is exactly what we're trying to fix with this whole undercover infiltration. And here you are playing into stereotypes."

"Stereotypes? Like what?" Orianna asked. Addy turned to face me.

"I'd like to know that too."

"I, uh, y'know. The whole 'vampires and werewolves hating each other bit'. It's like, every movie that has one has the other, and they're somehow always at each other's throats for no reason. And we're not in a movie!"

"Where do you think the stereotype came from?" Addy asked with a dismissive snort.

"It's not our fault that vampires betrayed us at the council of Nicaea."

"Oh here we go again." Orianna threw her hand onto her hips.

"There were one, maybe two vampiric bishops at the time, both of which have since been ostracized from polite society for their machiavellian schemes long before machiavelli even wrote his misunderstood thesis. But if you want to play that game, fine — half of the Norse raiders that plundered and murdered along the Atlantic coast for centuries were werewolves. There."

"Vampires didn't fight in the korean war."

"On either side! While your kind fought on both. We have to pick our battles, we cannot regain our numbers through simple fucking."

"Maybe that's because you aren't trying hard enough. But I suppose that happens when you can't get yourself to trust that your bed partner wasn't on the wrong side of the Napoleonic wars. I bet you voted against the proliferation of communal vegetable gardens precisely because you couldn't—""Oh my GOD!" I picked Addy up, pressed her against a wall with my entire body, and kissed her until the only noises coming out of her cute little mouth were entirely non-offensive.

Dropping her, I wiped my mouth and turned to Orianna.

"I won't kiss you until you shut up. I will make do with asking nicely. So, will you kindly shut the fuck up?" Orianna made her best bobblehead impression. There was a redness rising onto her gray skin that mixed into an awfully pleasant purple. As always, I had to set an example here.

"All this finger-pointing and whataboutism is making mountains out of molehills." I sighed.

"I'm not saying that I'm expecting to find you two kissing on the couch in a few minutes" — Addy and Orianna shot each other dagger-eyed looks — "but is approaching something with the benefit of doubt that hard to do? Talk to each other. Learn. Try to say nice things."

"IMPOSSIBLE," Becca intoned, pointing one pseudopod at Addy, and another at Orianna.

"INCOMPETENT. IMPATIENT."

"Ngh." Orianna shifted uncomfortably in place.

"... I suppose werefolk make good Christmas cookies."

"I, uh, I… don't know enough about vampires to say anything good," Addy muttered sheepishly, face hotter than the surface of the sun.

"I suppose… did your cabal have a Christmas stall too?"

"Only the one. Blood sausages and other meatware. You probably overlooked it seeing as there are ninety others, most of which are sponsored by the lodges."

"I'll try and visit this year," Addy muttered and hey, progress was progress.

"Alright then. Time to split up like we planned? Addy and Becca go to the Hoot—""HOOT HOOT!"

"— while Orianna and I check out the Cabal's secret Big Blood Bonanza. I'll try to swap at some point since I really want to see both sides, but if I can't then you still have Becca as a neutral party. No offense, but it's blindingly obvious that the both of you are just a tiny bit biased."

"Not without good reason," Addy added as Becca slimed her way under her big hoody.

"It honestly doesn't matter to me. Get this done, then maybe you'll find that getting along is easier than burning bridges. You got Becca in a good grip? Then, time to go and—" Addy pulled me down by the scruff of my shirt and gave me a sudden, deep kiss. She didn't break eye contact with Orianna once. To be fair, she was getting better at this whole kissing thing. Her enthusiasm definitely made up for some lack of skill. But even then.

We separated, regretfully, and after a moment spent staring longingly into each others' eyes, Addy gave my arm a squeeze and left to go do good. Hopefully. Doing bad to bad people could, arguably, be construed as good as well so… if there was someone fanning the fire of this childish dispute, I probably better pray for their souls.

"You haven't been together for long, have you?" Orianna said as we made our way down the right hallway.

"No? How'd you guess?"

"Just a hunch." Soon enough, we found a door. A normal door. It opened like one, a disheveled and sheepish looking guy in a period-accurate Victorian dress peaking out to greet us.

"Newcomers? And two at once. Busy, busy. Finger, please." I held out my finger, only for him to prick it with a tiny needle. It… didn't hurt much, though I still flinched out of instinct. With bored eyes he tapped the tip on a piece of fly paper. I was half of a mind to politely point out he was being creepy as fuck when he took the fly paper and stuck it to my forehead.

"Here. Free premonition. If you need more in-depth scrying of the future, you can find me in dorm 104—""Ey. Ey! No networkin 'ere," came a woman's voice in the hardest Boston accent I'd heard outside of Boston. A card whizzed through the air and hit the guy square in the neck, digging an inch deep. He rolled his eyes, pulling the card out. The wound closed right behind it within seconds, giving off a wisp of steam.

"Apologies. Bad habit. Juice?"

"I, uh, sure." I squinted at the scrap of paper.

"It just says 'beware the shoes in green'."

"Could be warning you of poor fashion choices."

"I mean, yeah, but it's kinda obvious," I said with a huff.

"Shoes are a grounding element, not a stylistic highlight. And green clashes with so many things — did you know people subliminally associate green with envy?" He seemed entirely lost.

"Girl. They're just green shoes."

"It's an important fashion statement!" He mimed a shrug before heading off to the table topped with drinks. Amber, clear, and deep red liquids colored the wine glasses offered nearby. Orianna was chatting up the Victorian dude while I sauntered over to have a sip. Definitely not juice. Maybe in some definition of the word. There were few people strewn about. The venue was basically just someone's dorm with a few extra tables and chairs that looked to have been plundered from the cafeteria.

People were playing poker on one table, and on another the couches had been rearranged for a few folks to talk about politics and the world, looking like the actors of a Shakespearean play on break, with half the energy and none of the humor. Through the wall, one could hear the absolute beastly beat coming from the dorm behind the wall. Because of course the Hoot and the Big Blood Bonanza were both held in adjacent rooms. The mood in this place is oddly anemic for a party of bloodsuckers.

Maybe vampires are just chill like that? Suddenly, the door behind us burst open, and a wild-eyed vampire with a tan and a tooth-flashing grin elbowed his way inside, packs of blood stuffed into every pocket and wedged between belt and neck.

"Guys, people, cabaliers — guess who just got donated twenty-two liters of prime, fresh O- blood packs." There was a din of groans. Cards hit the table. Something in the air told me these people were not happy about a windfall of drinks.

"Dammit Saif, people need that blood. Rule number fucking one: don't fuck with hospital blood supply, and especially not if it's from a universal donor. That includes buying it up at ludicrous prices. InshAllah, I will beat you with this table leg if you—""It's a pre-transfusion reject. Abnormal clotting behavior."

"Oh, shit. Well, that changes things." The speaker was all smiles.

"Get the throwaway straws out, and someone get an autoclave from one of the labs. I know nobody here's stupid enough to drink this shit from an actual glass, but I'm not offering these to the next guests without baking them first."

"Old habit," whispered a woman maybe a year or two older than me with long rye-blond hair and a wreath like a stereotypical hippie as I sat down next to her on a chair.

"Used to be we'd take the rejections due to positive infectious disease testing as well. Then someone's human girlfriend got Hep-B from a kiss and, well, let's just say they had to get a Custodian to pay out the arm for a cure. Fun fact, we're all immune to human diseases, but that doesn't mean we can't spread infectious material."

"There's a cure for Hepatitis B?" I asked, not even having to feign my shock. To my knowledge, only Hepatitis C was curable at all.

"How? When?"

"Last year," she said, lifting her cards and tossing them immediately.

"Preliminary superdrug in the mundane world got axed 'cause of 'market intervention' — monopolist bullshit, in other words. We snagged some of course, got some tinkers to magic away the biggest downside of obliterating your liver in five to ten years, and boom, cure preserved."

"Why not reveal it to the public under a different name?" I asked.

"Why only reveal that 'Custodians exist' and how we're 'here to help', but then just… not proliferate the super drug?"

"Same reason we don't just give ten billion humans a laser gun," she muttered.

"If every tinker in this Academy, the two branches in London and Chongqing, and the Mariana Trench Containment Dome stopped what they were doing and immediately learned the production method for the Hep-B cure, we'd be able to create and distribute enough to cure… maybe ten percent of infected individuals per year? The disease might be gone in ten, twenty-odd years, and we could pat ourselves on the back while in the background mimics, murderbots, and teddybears are taking over the world."

"Not enough tinkers for supercures and guns both," I muttered.

"Gotta have magical talent to get the chance to study up," she said, grabbing another hand of cards and frowning at them.

"Just like the cabal; never enough people — ten pair." I leaned back as someone dealt me cards as well, observing the game with half a mind while sinking into a deeper contemplation with the other. What exactly was there to be angry about with these people? They played cards, they enjoyed drinking, they swore. Like normal people, which as far as I could tell they all were. Was the blood that bad of an image?

It was ethically sourced; of course, detractors would happily ignore that part in favor of screaming 'the vamps are drinking all the medical blood!' But… who were those detractors? And where were they? I think I have a hunch. I looked left. I looked right.

"What's through that door in the back?" I asked Orianna, who was biting her fingers with her hand of a seven of hearts and a four of spades. There was exactly one heart card showing on the table, and the rest was a mix of diamond and club face cards, including both aces.

"Storage room," she muttered.

"Formerly the old faculty room, shared with the nearby dorm. The only real neutral ground. It's also where fights are fought out, if they need to be — wait, where are you going?"

"To see if they have any secret snacks." I gave her a pat on the back as I gave her my two aces.

"Keep my seat warm, yeah?" Orianna made a strangled sound. I walked up to the door and peeked through. It really looked like what a student might interpret as a storage area, what with its many cardboard boxes and overstuffed welded shelves. The cabal had a bouncer there as well, a no-nonsense looking vampire with the kind of long-looping earrings and mouth-ring I only ever saw in documentaries about African tribes.

He said something in Afrikaans — actually, no idea which language that was, but the system translated it as "no making trouble, miss." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. [Associate Mthoko] I suppose if you're going to become an associate, getting the benefits of a vampiric body seems like a good idea.

"Don't worry. Just looking for some chips." He pointed at a far corner. I took the opportunity to disappear over there behind a tower of clutter stacked so high it looked like a tiny kick might make it fall. Around a U-shaped bend in the room that naturally formed out of the only path still walkable between the stuff, I nearly ran into another bouncer, this one equally as large as Mthoko, but with lizard scales running up and down his body.

"No entry for vampiresss," he said, flicking a bifurcated tongue.

"Not even for spider girl — er, magical girl spider… things?"

"You sssmell like vampire, little ssspider," he said.

"And… tanuki?" I shot him my best smile.

"You smell like roses and a hint of lime."

"Ttthank you. But flattery won't get you in either." Dammit. Alright then, time for plan M. M for misdirection. I snatched a pack of chips, muttering something grumpily in his general direction. On the way back around the bend, I split a body double off and sent it back through the vampire side, then gave the tower of cardboard a gentle kick. It toppled right over, eliciting a string of curses from Mthoko." Kak! Ezekiel, you clump-footed lizard!

That was the good whisky; if so much as a single bottle broke, I will have your skin!"

"Wasss not me," the werelizard hissed.

"Perhapsss you ssshould simply… admit when you have made a mistake yourself."

"Oh screw off, you're just jealous we kicked your ass in the associate hockey tournament. And I'll have you know, I was this close to…" The two were at each others' throats, verbally, giving me just enough time to clamber along the ceiling, drop down behind them, and slip right into the Hoot while my body double rejoined Orianna at the Big Blood Bonanza. Sorry. Sorry. Really, really sorry. And then I was inside the Lodge's party.

The first thing that hit me was that it was dark, like a forest at dusk, only intercut by a strobing light projecting psychedelic shapes on every surface. They made me wince, half my eyes shutting into thin slits. The second thing was the noise. Loud, animated conversation was nearly drowned out by the beat of a psytrance mixtape someone was DJing on a small podium.

People were jumping, laughing, yelling, and everywhere I looked, there was a different type of werefolk, a different shape of the face, a different bulk or slimness to waists and backs. I nearly ran into a werewolf. Then a werehog. Then a were hedge hog, which could've turned out really bad. The werehedgehog turned around, wildly-patterned disco light strobing across his face.

"Ah, Sam, there you are." Ah, crap. Busted. I sighed in defeat as he picked me up by the scruff. No use resisting. All I could do now was wait and…

"Wait a minute… Mason, is that you?"

"Yup," he intoned in that rumbling deep voice of his.

"Hey Addy, catch!" He tossed me a good ten feet. Instinctively, I curled into a ball before landing on a well-abused sofa with an oof. Slowly, I opened my eyes and unfolded my arms.

"Addy?"

"Right here," came a muffled voice from behind my back. Awkwardly, I peeled off of her.

"You alright? Where's Becca?"

"Oozing around." I turned around and wow, just looking at my girlfriend was making my stomach do summersaults. Yep, those were the good chemicals. Immediately, I dug her out of her Addy-shaped dent in the sofa and wrapped her up in a six-armed hug.

"I missed you," she muttered as she snuggled her face into my armpit.

"I've been gone for, like, half an hour tops."

"Too long," she said. Mason took his seat on a sofa opposite of me, denting the sofa half a foot. The upholstery buckled, bent, and slowly lifted a frankly beautiful man up like a rising pedestal. The fan of feathers with eye patterns behind his back converged with a rustle and a sigh of frustration.

"Yeah, okay, I see why I never stood a chance," said the peacock-man while Addy gave him a smug side-eye.

"She's my girlfriend." I preened.

"My condolences." Addy huffed, warm air tickling the sides of my neck.

"Sam, that's… uh, whatsit again?" [Isaac, Puffy Peacock, Lvl 39]"Isaac, Grandee of Spain. Adelaide's 'ex', if you would."

"Huh. Wasn't aware she was capable of holding a relationship before me." That earned me a bite to my arm. Ow.

"He's not Spanish, by the way," Mason added. I raised an eyebrow. The peacock-man sighed a long suffering sigh.

"The Duke of San Fernando de Quiroga and the Duchess of San Miguel proposed I be granted the honorary title of Grandee after I prevented their atomization at the hands of murderbots during an illicit ménage à trois with a third duke's head maid."

"Sounds scandalous."

"Believe me, I wanted nothing to do with it. But trouble has a habit of finding Custodians trying to relax." He stared at me as I slowly blinked my six eyes at him.

"Alright, out with it. I've already jinxed myself, so might as well ride it out." I gave Addy a look and a mental text. <<Trustworthy? >> <<Eh. Useful. He's got people skills. He won't blab, I've got dirt on him. >> I readied myself and explained the whole problem, the odd behavior, the cliche delineation of vampires vs werewolves. How it was hurting our purpose as Custodians. How I wanted to have them all get along. He leaned back when I was done, idly sipping the same amber-colored drink the vampires had.

"The first years are getting more ambitious every semester," he said.

"Mind you, it's a good ambition. Bit much for a single person though."

"Which is why I'm busy making friends."

"I can see that," he said, looking between the nine foot werehedgehog man and Addy, who was busy rubbing her cheeks into mine until she got rugburn.

"You've got the chance to fit in both sides, or in neither. Probably for the better that Addy rubs some more smell off on you. Too many different ones in here for someone to notice, but better to be safe."

"Mmyeah, totally why I'm doing this," Addy muttered. Isaac took a deep breath.

"Truth is, I've been… keeping my eyes and ears open. There's a specific group that's been spreading controversy and anti-vampire sentiment. You can feel the tension in the air whenever they arrive at a venue, but it's never the same people. Means they have a lot on their side." That was… less than optimal.

"Any of them here today?" Mason asked, his head on a swivel.

"No, they're at the Fine-Feather Student's Lodge today. That's why I'm here."

"Good. That means I can enact my secret plan," I said. All eyes fell on me. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"So," I cleared my throat.

"What speaks against mixing these two parties? The venues are literally right next to each other. I could hear the music booming through on the other side. People weren't hostile, just a bit… quiet?"

"I'll tell 'em to make it a bit quieter, for the high-Sense statted among us," Mason said, but stopped halfway between sitting down and standing up as I grabbed his arm.

"But then I understood: They're fundamentally different, each catering to one demographic. However, why do they have to be divided by membership in a lodge or a cabal? I don't mean that I want vampires filling the dance floor and werehawks playing darts against each other. Just… there's so many barriers between one and the other. I literally have to use magic to be here."

"I shouldn't have had to." I muttered.

"I can see a few people who would find the other side's party style more agreeable."

"Really?" Isaac asked, sounding surprised.

"We're all werefolk here. We all seek company."

"Even the ones based on solitary animals?"

"Weirdly, yes. A cultural habit." I gestured behind him with a nod of my head.

"Look over there. The two small ones. Weremice—""—rats—""—rats, then. Do you think they are having fun, being four foot tall, trying to maneuver around people twice or thrice their size? They look like they can't find a seat either, when there's plenty of space in the vampires' place."

"Assuming they'd feel safe and welcome there—""Which they would. They're not going to have their blood sucked. They've got surplus bloodbags for that."

"Yeah," Isaac said, "but, well, they'd be missing out on the music. And the people. And all that. Isn't that right Mason?"

"Love being around people," Mason shot back, returning from his tiny quest with a bowl of guacamole and a bag of chips.

"Course, I've been stuck in a bed for two years. Probably a bit biased. You, Addy?"

"I have my one person," she purred. Oh god, they're obligatory extroverts. And they don't even realize it. This mission just got a whole lot more complicated.

"Alright. We're going to have to knuckle down for this one. But luckily, I have a plan." +++"Anybody interested in music?" I said, back at the Cabal's party.

"Like, in general?" asked the vampire girl I was dueling in an all-or-nothing poker round.

"I mean, like, for this place. Seems a bit quiet, is all I'm saying."

"We like it quiet," she shot back.

"Like the grave."

"Spooky. Pretty sure giving graves some loudspeakers would be an upgrade though. Bunch of lonely ghosts out there." She snorted, when Orianna burst in from the storage room.

"Hey, I found this record player." A few people perked up.

"Hey, that's the countess' lost phonograph."

"Anybody wanna try if it still works?" someone else said. It did work. The music was a bit old-timey, but 'I don't want to set the world on fire' was pretty topical, as far as lyrics went. Most people listened to it for the vibes, or to seem cultured, both of which the vampires seemed to enjoy.

"So, how do people feel about hockey?" I asked one of the vampires nearby.

"Dunno. Seems fun?" came the answer. And everyone I asked answered much the same. Weird. I thought people would be up in arms over this. Anyways, step one complete. Now step two… +++"And that is a straight!" I announced to the little dog-eared boy.

"That's… good?" he asked with uncertainty.

"Not as good as this!" A cat-eyed girl his age cried.

"There. Full house — hahah! SUCK IT, Kyle—" The two were immediately at each other's throats, wrestling and rampaging through the quiet backroom which a few people had helped me clear out when I told them about my plan to give those who wanted a quieter space a room. It was in service to the community, so a few guys and a burly hog-girl were more than happy to move the clutter out from it and start sorting it into a 'keep' and 'toss out' pile.

An older man with graying hair quietly looked up from the cards he held in shivering hands. [Associate Trent]"Oh, don't mind them, they're just energetic kids."

"How'd you three get in here?" I asked.

"This is a student meetup."

"Oh, well, we were all students here once — wizards, you see, under professor Fowl. Not anymore, though. Curse-casting accident 'cause of a faulty wand. Took the years off of those two and gave 'em to me with interest."

"... how old are you?"

"Twenty-nine, in spirit." His back cracked as he readjusted himself.

"Oof. Felt that one."

"And there's no fix the Society can give?" I asked.

"Why would they? We weren't the best students, evidently, and we're all orphans; no family to pay a thousand soulcoins. The Society already gives us menial jobs, plus enough money to live, so there's that." I paused as the two mousefolk happily checked the rules for which of their middling hands had won the game.

"So, you're a wizard—"" Former wizard."

"Which means you have ties to professor Fowl? Enough to know his habits?" He laughed, shaking his head.

"Girl, I'm his assistant. The bastard hates paperwork and could barely be convinced to learn how to use excel for writing a grocery list. You're in his course aren't you, you, a Custodian? Forget it; he hates you people to bits. He can't make you fail permanently, but he'll make getting your degree pure torture." I chewed my lip for a while before taking out the last of my regeneration potion.

"Say, if you could stay this age but without the joint pains, what type of dirt would you be willing to give up?"

"Oh, I'd give up plenty." +++"I heard they like card games too," I told a laid-back group of vampires.

"Can't be fun playing the same people all the time, right?"

"Miss Rubens," one of the older women said, swishing her wine bottle around.

"You want us to accept a mutt to play with us? A whole clan of them? Why would they ever want to leave their oh so interesting and overfunded extravaganza for… this?" She was one of the oldest vampires present. The other elders had their own parties, or were even more reclusive, preferring to spend prime party time in a coffin.

"Well, first off, if you'd stop calling them names, you might realize that you've got shared interests, miss Toussaint," I countered.

"A daring proposition," she said.

"More daring than the french revolution? Madame, you lived through it, did you not? The good and the bad parts."

"More bad than good at the time. Gods, the blood." She bit her lips." Damn that Robespierre."

"Well, consider this a smaller revolution. A better one. One where you get to make friends instead of chopping enemies to size." She stared at me, seeming to ponder it for a good long while.

"Vive la revolution," Orianna coughed into her hand.

"Very well, but they shall not make an unnecessary fuss, nor shall they bore me," she said, to the astonishment of the man to the left and right of her she had her arms slung around.

"And we will try this new drink of theirs as well. What did they call it again?"

"Dogwatah." +++"... so let me get this straight: You convinced the vampires to try dog water and set up parallel poker tables in the Lodge's party."

"Uh-huh."

"And now you have an associate whistleblower telling you the deepest secrets on the most entrenched professor from Cantrips & Casting to Spell Automization?"

"That about sums it up."

"And this took you how long?"

"Four hours and change." I checked a clock hanging on the wall, completely useless due to the digital clock hanging in the corner of my vision.

"I told you I had a plan. People will love this."

"A subset of people," Isaac said confidently.

"A tiny part with unusual tastes. The majority would never stand for this."

"What, nervous if they did?" I shot him a coy smirk.

"... I'll admit, I understand your charm. You're like a plush sledgehammer menacing people with promises and touches that make them feel all fuzzy inside. But it won't be enough to convince everyone, certainly not when you want to change the entire status quo."

"Observe, the second part of my thirty-seven step plan."" Thirty-seven!?"

"Alright. I can't take it anymore." Addy stood up.

"Sam. We're doing this."

"Doing what?" I asked, leaning back on the sofa as she stalked up to me, falling over as the whole sofa tipped. I rolled to a stand — six arms made that easy — though not before rolling into a werehorsebearman (definitely a story behind that one), who gave me an odd look as I scampered to my feet. Behind Addy, there sat Becca, the mischievous slime twirling a plush pair of manacles around a pseudopod like a lasso. The glint in Addy's eyes was a raging inferno.

"Oh you know exactly what this is." And then she pounced. I ducked under her wide arms.

"Becca, this is treason!," I cried, playing my part perfectly, dare I say.

"How could you?"

"WOBBLE WOBBLE."

"That's not a fair answer, Becca!" I zipped to the side of another of Addy's lunges, her arm clipping through a body double in a near-lethal lariat. She crashed into a table, sending chips and stuffs flying to the tune of people screeching. I couldn't dodge for long, not against an expert in close quarters combat like her. A kick connected, sending me flying against a wall that dented all too easily.

"She's going feral!" someone yelled.

"Someone stop her!"

"First off, feral is an outdated term…" someone else started and hey thanks for being so chill about me smashing up this corner of the party. But also, a little help, please? Ack. Ow. That one… hurt a bit, Addy.

"Oof," I grunted, staggered just long enough that I couldn't evade the next pounce. She caught me. And kissed me. There were her lips, flush with mine and filled with the taste of cinnamon and something hungry. She pinned two of my arms against the wall, the other four not enough to keep her from pressing her body into mine. The pressure was… something else, and it was mounting, more and more until…

"Addy—""No, no distractions," she said, sinking her teeth into a vulnerable part of my neck.

"I want them to know. I want the world to know that you're mine, and that I'm yours."

"Addy, I didn't mean… behind."

"Hm?"

"It's a dry wall." The drywall gave way and Addy and I fell through with a crash, landing square in the middle of the vampires' poker table. The most awkward of pauses stretched into infinity as pieces of drywall slid off of me and a thoroughly confused Addy, who, even in whatever state she was, understood that she'd gone quite far enough. Her head slowly turned red and redder as she let out a quiet, voiceless keen.

"By all means, continue," the countess said past her hand, hiding a scandalized grin.

"I wasn't yet bored at all." The stares of a dozen onlookers pressed in around me like a physical weight. This was not the kind of debut I was hoping for. However, I did have everyone's absolute attention. That was worth its weight in gold.

"Sorry, sorry, 'pologies," I muttered as I slowly got up and brushed myself down. For a moment I just let my gaze wander across the crowd. Skipping straight to step 37. Now, here's to hoping I don't die of embarrassment..

"I have an announcement to make."

"We know you're gay!" Mason called from inside the crowd gathering on the other side of the hole in the wall between the Hoot and the Big Blood Bonanza.

"Not what I was implying!" I said, thankful for the diversion. Some people were chuckling instead of staring daggers past the hole in the wall. I cleared my throat.

"It has come to my attention that some of you enjoy cake and some of you enjoy pie. That is fine and good. But some among you have taken that as an opportunity to malign the good name of cake, and smear the honorable visage of pie." Some of the previous bemusement turned to confusement.

"Well, I like both." I gave Addy a squeeze.

"And not just because I'm part cake and part pie. I like all sweet and savory stuffs; mango muffins, custard, crème brûlée, pancakes, dumplings, donuts, and, yes, cake, and pie."

"I get it, she's making an alligatory," someone in the crowd yelled.

"Does that mean she's into scalies?" someone else asked.

"No you idiot, obviously she's into scaled and furred werefolk," someone else yelled, and I just… fuckin, these people!

"It's an allegory! A-lle-go-ry! Vampires are cake, werepeople are pie, or the other way around, it doesn't matter." I groaned into my hands. I was skipping all the important talking points of my speech. But hey, might as well shoot for the stars.

"I'm making a magical girl faction, for everyone. If you like cake and-slash-or pie and don't care whether the person next to you differs in opinion, come join me for poker night. That is all. Adios." And now, to make an exit that would leave an impression. I turned to the wall and, with Addy wrapped in six arms, put one foot against it, then the other.

Slowly, I walked up the wall — woof, that takes a lot of upper body strength to keep me straight — then onto the ceiling, channeling [Sticky] all the while I felt people's gazes sticking to my back. By the time I was out the music had returned, and the room was filled with an incessant murmur. Alright. Talk about me. Gossip. Scandalize. Just don't forget me.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Addy?"

"How are you going to build a faction while busy with classwork, and before we've even uncovered what's setting people at eachother's throats?"

"I, uh…" Crap. She's totally right.

"I suppose I'll just have to multitask." And then, I will create an entire faction of magical girls. Muahahaha.