08

Disclaimers still apply.

Major thanks to Kerrik Wolf for proof-reading and offering spelling and grammar abuse corrections for this chapter. All corrections are his, all mistakes are still mine.

Major thanks to FanficFetishist for sending me those Capital League bios in a timely manner. I can only hope I didn't abuse the charachters I used... too badly.

[Chapter 8]

Micah didn't even pretend restraint as he snatched up the wine bottle, popped the cork, and guzzled the cheap yet sweet wine like water.

Around him were scattered remnants of he and his harem indulging in a small party, the hotel room having been quickly overwhelmed by the sheer dearth of their supplies and necessary items.

The worst part of all, Sadie Pokens Week hadn't even -started- yet.

"Okay," Micah let the wine bottle drop; set it off to the side as he cleared his throat. "Let's double-check all our preparations one more time, to make sure I haven't caught the stupid and missed something. Fireworks setup?"

"Setup and active," Ludmilla replied as she licked chocolate frosting from her fingertips.

"Birthday presents?"

"Hidden and ready to pop with the fireworks," Anya noted; her nose in a mug of coffee as she sipped from it.

"And, last but not least, my personal favorite, the piñatas?"

"Ready, willing, programmed, and horrible," Euphemia replied before biting into a chocolate chip cookie.

"Right," Micah noted aloud thoughtfully as he surveyed their plans and contingencies if, worst comes to worst, Juneau blew up in a similar manner to Vancouver. "Euphemia, Ludmilla, you have the Naval Depot. Cornelia, you'll be checking the land exit points so we have an idea of what'll be best if we have to escape over land. Nunnally, you'll be checking the sea routes for any unusual cargo. Anya, you'll be up for protection detail on the first day. We'll be cycling out as scheduled."

"You know, you could give most Teams a run for their money," Cornelia observed as she sipped her beer.

Micah smiled wryly. "Thank you."

The Demon-Goddess smiled. "Seriously. It's almost a pity that you aren't of a larcenous mind, or you could probably make off with a large amount of pokegirls."

"If I was doing that, I'd be aiming for quality over quantity." He smirked. "As my harem already shows. I wouldn't go for city-wide chaos. I'd research my specific targets, have an 'in' on the pokegirl registry, track their habits, and capture them with hacked master balls a few hours before the deadline." He shrugged. "As I'm -not-..."

Ludmilla's tail absently whanged against the floor as the Dire Wolf suddenly looked thoughtful.

Micah glanced at her. "No."

Ludmilla's ears perked forward, her green eyes blinking innocently. "Master?"

"My harem is as large as I'm comfortably willing to manage," Micah replied. "Never mind command and control, let's consider -logistics-. If I spent more time lavishing attention on you lovelies, I'd 1) never be able to get anything done, and 2) be dead from exhaustion. I -am- just a normal human, you recall."

Nunnally absently reached out and ran a hand along the long-edge of one leathery black wing. "Yes, Master," the Armsmistress replied. "Perfectly human."

Micah stuck his tongue out. "Not my point and you know it."

Ludmilla's grin was that particular shade of feral she enjoyed expressing as her definition of 'wicked'. "Euphemia showed me The List..."

"I'm beginning to regret -ever- writing down that list," Micah replied in a sotto tone.

Ludmilla grinned, a clawed finger to her lips. "And if I happen to stumble across a StarlightXpress, Master?"

"Hmph." Micah snagged a nearby glass, was slightly gratified to see that it was clean, and poured out a healthy serving of wine so that he could sip in a more civilized fashion. "All I'll say on that matter is 'good luck'."

"Speaking of luck," Cornelia pointed out, "You've got to get scanned by a Megami tomorrow. How the hell are you going to get past that?"

Micah gave a leathery shrug in reply, wings shifting around him. "I suppose the only proper recourse for me by this point is to pray -real- hard, and hope for the best."

"Losers whine about their best," Ludmilla replied in a horrible accent she had snatched directly from Micah's brain, then fell over giggling.

-[***]-

Yvonne sipped at her strong tea, enjoying the feel of the hot steam caressing her face as she did so. Celestial or no, the dark-haired Megami had to admit that the best way to wake up in the morning was often a good, strong shot of caffeine.

The OfficerJenny that had been assigned to her grinned ruefully as she sipped her own mug. Yvonne absently wondered if she'd actually be called to action or not. As one of the interviewing Megami for Sadie Pokens week in Juneau, she was the final arbiter when it came to allowing a Tamer to attend, and you always heard of at least one getting turned away and the subsequent response.

The door to the interview room cracked open, a NurseJoy with an unusually broad grin splitting her face poking her head in. "Are you two ready?"

The Megami shook her head. "No rest for the wicked or good." She canted an eyebrow. "What's put you in such a good mood?"

The NurseJoy put a hand to her mouth in an attempt not to laugh. "I can't -wait- till you see this guy. You're going to -love- it." She slipped out, and Yvonne heard sounds of her guiding someone toward the interview room.

Yvonne and the OfficerJenny shared a confused, albeit curious glance.

"Here you go!" the NurseJoy announced as she opened the door wider. "If you need anything, just call me!"

Yvonne had to stifle her immediate reaction to gape in amazement, then throttle her second immediate reaction, which was to burst out laughing. The tamer whom entered was dressed in head-to-toe in a body-concealing outfit including a heavy, bell-tasseled cloak, a loose poet's shirt and voluminous pants, heavy boots, and gloves. To finish it, his face was completely hidden by a porcelain carnival mask, a riot of jangling tassels and cloth horns bobbing merrily with each of his movements, the entire outfit done up in a riotous ensemble of green, purple, and gold.

"Good morning, ladies," he announced, giving a sweeping bow to the two of them.

Yvonne tried not to grin too broadly, hoping this tamer wouldn't take offense. "Good morning."

"As I can't imagine the two of you are enjoying being up this early, I hope I won't give you any trouble." With a jangle of bells, he handed over his PDA with its ID information displayed to the OfficerJenny. "And for the duration of this holiday, it would please me very greatly if you referred to me as the Harliquinade."

Yvonne couldn't help it as she laughed in delight. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, where did you get that outfit?"

The Harliquinade cocked his head to the side in a rustle of fabric and bells. "How familiar are you with Pre-Sukebe history?"

"Not as much as I'd like," Yvonne replied ruefully.

"Then you wouldn't be familiar with the Catholic celebration of Mardi Gras," Harliquinade replied, hands folded in front of him. He gestured with a flourish. "A two day celebration of revelry, parades, merrymaking, and joyousness, before forty days of religious piety, fasting, and abstinence." Folding his hands together, he went on, "I thought the connection vaguely apropos. And why not? It is a celebration of free will we have congregated together to share in." He waved at his outfit. "Even the colors are representative of justice, power, and faith. A fine association for any pokegirl to hold as an exemplar too."

Yvonne held both hands to her mouth, even as she was smiling. "Quite so." She made an annotation to his official tamer file, and handed him back his Pokedex. "Here you are, Harliquinade."

"Thank you very much," he replied as he took the pro-offered item. "I'll let the two of you go back to your tea. Good morning, parting, sweet sorrow, and so on."

The OfficerJenny waited until the door was closed before she blurted out, "He couldn't have been serious."

Yvonne shook her head in wonder and amazement. "He was. With every word." She grinned. "Thinking of retiring and joining up in someone's harem?"

"I wonder why he was wearing a mask," the OfficerJenny replied, despite the blush. "Maybe he has some scarring from a feral attack."

"Would it really matter, though?"

"No, I suppose not."

-[***]-

Micah, aka, the Harliquinade, stepped from the Taming Center that served as the interview location for attending Tamers. Naturally, he attracted immediate attention, which was the entire point. Better to be a metaphorical freak due to your outlandish mode of dress than to be one due to additional functioning limbs. And horns. And inhuman eyes.

He shook off such maudlin thoughts with a sound of rustling bells, and was gratified to see that Anya was waiting for him, the StarMystic dressed in her battle uniform. She grinned. "Well, you're not in irons, so I take it things went well?"

"No screams of horror or fainting to be had, so I count the morning as a plus," Micah replied, his voice only slightly muffled by the mask he wore.

"I wonder what she saw in your aura," Anya mused as she took Micah's offered arm and the pair began walking toward the main area of festivities.

Micah shook his head. "She didn't say. She simply marked me off and bade me on my way. Hopefully, she saw something that she liked, and not something that's going to get me jumped in a dark alley somewhere by a hit-squad of ninja-Angels."

Anya giggled. "No comment on your outfit?"

"Oh, she and the OfficerJenny both got a kick out of it. Even the NurseJoy seemed to be having fun." Micah chuckled. "I even got to go into my little history spiel about the significance of the outfit and the colors. It was fun."

Anya's grip tightened. "Well! Let's go see if we can have even -more- fun. You've been working as hard as the rest of us, and need to relax."

"Small chance of that," Micah replied in a wry tone. He'd be damned if he made it an issue, but underneath the costume it was cramped as all hell for wings and claws both. "But let's go see what they've to offer."

Several hours later, Micah had to admit that the festival itself was rather... well, fun. It was a mix of several of the 'fun for fun sakes' old-town style festivals he'd grown up with, mixed with the more martial and information-giving Ren Faires he had attended.

"You know, I have to admit, this is pretty fun," Micah observed as he and Anya watched from a distance as a wizard from Vale give demonstrations and answered various questions. "I'm beginning to see what I missed out on dating as a teenager."

Anya glanced at him, her grip tightening on his arm. "So you -did- notice."

Micah chuckled. "I'm stubborn, not dense." A jangled shake of his head. "I wish I could do more for all of you. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to take each one of you out personally during the week. You all deserve it."

Anya smiled and was about to say more when she was cut off by a loud yell of, "EEEEEE! THERE HE IS!"

Micah and Anya both turned to see a running crowd of several Harlequins, a number of Trixies, and one Mistoffeles advancing with merry-making grins on their faces.

Micah observed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to Anya and stated in a heavy, sotto tone, "I can't win."

Anya shook her head in amazement, then teleported them both out.

They both reappeared in an area Anya had scouted out earlier atop a large two-story building. Micah glanced around curiously, then at Anya. "I appreciate the privacy, but why?"

Anya smiled. "I thought you'd appreciate a moment to relax. No one around to scream if you get comfortable. I'll even keep a lookout for flyers."

Micah grimaced under his mask. "Was I that obvious?"

"Only a little. I was going to suggest a break in a bit, so your adoring crowd came just at the right moment."

Micah - briefly - thought about refusing the offer, but then winced and discarded the idea. Quickly he unlaced his cloak and slid his wings out of their lining, letting out a bone-rattling groan that could have been one of horrible pain or horrendous pleasure as he let his wings stretch broadly to the sky. "Oh, -fuck-," he breathed in a shuddery tone as he weakly pushed off his carnival mask, then carefully slide off the colored sheaths that hid his horns from view. "Arrrgh." He set it aside and then stripped off his gloves, letting claws slide out in enjoyment of nothing more than the sheer freedom the movement offered. "Ugh."

Anya laughed, taking the moment to step forward, arms going around his shoulder as she kissed him softly. "Poor baby."

"Poor me indeed." Micah let his wings wrap around them both tightly, sheathing them in a multi-layer leathery cocoon.

"You could have stayed in your hotel room the entire week," Anya murmured softly, resting her head on his shoulder, her hair a thick waterfall of softness that he could feel rustle against his wing-skin.

Micah smiled. "I could have. But I didn't want too. I'd be stupid if I ignored the chance, however forced, for downtime for all of you. Also, I wanted the opportunity to try and treat each of you the way you deserved to be treated." He breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell of her shampoo, and went on. "You're all women in your own ways, and you deserve to have some fun every so often, pokegirl biological imperatives aside."

Anya's breath was a soft thing against his neck. "Does that include giving me children, as well?"

Micah glanced skyward with his blue-on-black eyes, trying to restrain the shiver that ran up his spine and hoping that something would occur to distract Anya's current topic of discussion, such as, say, Typhonna dropping in for a visit. "At the very least," he went on in what he hoped was a calm tone, "Getting you pregnant with the threat of Sanctuary at-large would be stupid. Not to mention, bad for the child." He shook his head slowly. "Children. Yikes."

Silence. "...you don't want children?"

Micah looked down at Anya, raising a calm eyebrow. "I've never thought one way or another on the matter. Honestly, It never occurred to me that I'd find someone whom I'd want to have children -with-. Much less someone whom would reciprocate the matter." A deep breath. "So. In response to your question, I'm still becoming acclimated to the concept."

Anya ran a hand across his chest. "At least you aren't scared of the notion." She smiled. "And you've never let my age keep you from taming me."

Micah rolled his eyes heavenward. "Seriously. Tamers whom trade away pokewoman? Lazy fucks. 'Oh no, I have to worry about something human civilization has had to cope with since the dawn of time!' Ceeripes." He then smirked, absently gripping Anya's bottom. "Then again, I've got my hot piece of Milf ass, so who am I to complain?"

Anya made a soft 'eep!' sound, but didn't protest. "'Milf'?"

"'Mother I'd Like to Fuck.' Crude, but accurate. Typically shorthand for whenever it's a young male and an older female." He shook his head and reluctantly peeled his wings away from around them both. "Come on. As enjoyable as all this is, I'm getting hungry. Let's go see what they have for lunch."

A minute or so after Micah had re-garbed himself in his costume and left with Anya, a pokegirl carefully picked herself up from where she had been watching the entire discussion one roof over. Alex chuckled softly as she gently patted her digital camera, the Cameragirl fairly brimming with energy at what these pictures would bring in. Talk about serendipity! She didn't think one of the more... unique... Tamers would literally drop in her lap. Even better, she already knew what kind of clientele would just -love- to have first exclusive shot at the pictures...

-[***]-

Ludmilla grinned at the OfficerJenny. "So, what's it like working at the local Naval Depot?"

Jasmine, the OfficerJenny in question, rolled her eyes and gave a shrug. "Playing security for the local military is rarely enjoyable. Too many disparate laws, one applying to civilians and another to military personnel, make it not very pleasant to deal with." She gave a bark of laughter. "Why, thinking of joining up?"

Ludmilla shrugged, crossing her legs together. "I'd wonder more why an OfficerJenny was running around not in uniform during Sadie Pokens Day. Thinking of looking for a Tamer?"

Jasmine let out a sigh. "That would be nice." The wistful expression remained for a brief second more, then she shook her head. "Doubt I'd find anyone I'd want to stay with, though." She sipped her coffee. "So, what about you?"

Ludmilla grinned. "I'm quite content with my current master." And the Dire Wolf was very pleased with herself, surreptitiously ruffling through Jasmine's brain to pick out the information she wanted without anyone being the wiser.

Age, skill, and guile beat youthful exuberance any day of the week.

Jasmine smiled faintly. "So, what's he like?"

Ludmilla shrugged, and decided to use a lie she had heard Cornelia employ when a battle-hardened and scarred Tigress had pleadingly wondered what kind of Tamer didn't mind a pokegirl who only had one eye. "He's got a number of odd bloodgifts. For one, it's a foot long, prehensile, and barbed." Ludmilla made a show of squirming in her seat. "But it feels oh-so-good when he's thrusting in, even if it does... catch... when he's pulling out."

Jasmine dropped her mug.

-[***]-

Alex approached one of the larger tents that had been setup on the outskirts of Juneau. It was an unspoken understanding among pokegirls for Capital League Sadie Pokens that some of the more similar breeds would actually setup places of congregation for their kind. An area to get together, share gossip, information, social posturing, or perhaps become re-acquainted with a good friend you hadn't seen in a while. Very few Tamers knew about these places by lie of omission -the matter simply never got brought up.

Alex tried not to roll her eyes as she pushed aside the tent flap and a rolling wave of heat hit her face, accompanied by the smell of wood, cigarette smoke, and just a hint of sulfur. She could appreciate showmanship, but some people just went overboard.

The interior of the large tent was a sight to give the Marquis de Sade pause as he placed a hand over his heart and let out a manly tear. Infernals of all types had congregated; Succubi, Youma, Demonesses, Dark Ladies; even a Masui or two from what Alex' practiced eye could pick out. All in various states of debauchery, discussion, food consumption, and a few that were showing off some of their Tamer's more masochistic habits by utilizing the tamer in question as a showpiece.

Alex looked curiously at the bar that had been setup, and blinked, immediately squelching the protest of what was a kid doing there when she caught sight of a diminutive pokegirl with blonde-white hair sitting upon a barstool, drinking, if Alex wasn't mistaken, a Shirley Temple. If the blood splattered around her was anything to go by, that was a Chibi pokegirl of some kind that had forcibly secured a private spot. The only other pokegirl at the bar was a Nightnurse putting away a bottle of whiskey in hungry gulps. Alex shook her head in wonderment, absently thought, 'I love Capital's Sadie Pokens', and went on to find her target.

The demoness in question was one of the more colorful of the breed, flesh a brilliant, deep shade of red, hair black, feet hooved, and small, bat-like wings creating the picturesque element of a demoness fit to torment any sinner in the fires of hell. Lounging upon a divan someone had setup in a circle of similar furniture, her eyes flicked up and a lazy smile appeared on her face when she spied the Cameragirl.

"Good evening, Alexstraza," the demoness husked. "Given thought to joining us in various... pleasantries?"

Alex didn't bother to hold back the urge to roll her eyes at the full use of her name. "Business before fucking, Ashtoreth." She smiled as she waved a picture in one hand. "And you'll -like- this business."

A muffled scream broke into Alex's spiel; the Cameragirl glanced over and carefully stilled her expression, as one Demoness was giving lessons on the art of careful penile bifurcation on her Tamer.

"It's the ultimate expression of power," the Demoness noted with a fond smile to her assembled group of raptly-watching infernals as she absently caressed her bound, gagged, and blindfolded Tamer's cheek. "You hold within your hands the absolute and final control over your Tamer's potency." The Tamer in question moaned, and blood splattered. "Can there be anything more sweet?" the Demoness went on as she began the process of healing him up.

Alex shook her head at the distraction, and handed Ashtoreth the picture.

Ashtoreth took it with a bored albeit cordial expression that shifted to one of eye-bulging surprise, gripping the picture tightly when she saw what was on it, and Alex tried not to grin. A Succubus wandered near and did a violent double-take when she saw the picture, and made a grab for it. Ashtoreth backhanded her without thinking, not once taking her gaze off the picture, and then slowly looked up at Alex.

Alex's had given up controlling her expression, and her grin was one fit to rival any Demoness in terms of sheer wickedness. Already they were beginning to draw a crowd of the curious. "Ladies," she called out, "I believe most of you are familiar with my pricing scheme for pictures and videos. Contact information and the location of his pokeball deposit," she went on, "Cost -extra-."

-[***]-

Micah was beginning to worry that his current persona was working a bit -too- well. While he hadn't come across the horde of adoring trickster pokegirls again - thank any deity you care to think of - he was getting more than a few curious overtures from pokegirl and tamer alike.

If this gets any worse, Micah thought to himself, I'm going to have to switch out personas for one of my planned backups. The Marquis was one that he hadn't wanted to use first, due to it's overall dark, brooding, and imposing cut - the Harliquinade was much better in that it played the role of the fool - a deformed, cartoonish character. And who was afraid of a cartoon character?

"It's good to see that you've been enjoying the festival, Harliquinade."

Micah turned and tried not to show startlement at the dark-haired Megami smiling at him. "My lady," he bowed low. "You seemed to have found me once more. Is there something you need? Legendaries to tame, towels to steal, windmills to tilt at...? Anything...?"

Yvonne laughed. "You caught my attention this morning, so I wanted to come and talk when I saw you."

"You have me at a disadvantage, then. This morning, I was rude when I did not enquire as to your name."

She smiled broadly. "Yvonne."

"Then, Lady Yvonne," Micah paused whenever Anya teleported back in. The StarMystic smiled and announced, "Done." She then paused and eyed Yvonne, immediately moving to grip Micah's arm. "A friend of yours?"

"Anya, this is the nice Megami lady whom interviewed me this morning. Yvonna, this is Anya, a member of my harem."

Yvonne smiled. "I'm pleased to meet you, though surprised. I was half expecting a horde of Harlequins to be following in his wake."

"No, we ran away from those earlier," Micah replied calmly. "Would you care to join us for some pastries and coffee?"

"I'd love too," Yvonne replied.

Yvonne paid close attention once they had settled in a quite table at a cafe that was open for the festivities, wondering if he was going to actually take off his mask to eat, or if getting the food along her and Anya was all some sort of show. She watched, fascinated, as he reached up to his Carnival mask, and with a soft 'click', the mouth and chin part of the mask separated so only that portion was exposed. Grinning at her, he sipped at his triple-shot of espresso. "So. Anything in particular you wished to discuss?"

Yvonne shook her head slowly. "I was going to offer if you didn't have a place to stay tonight, but I see that you don't have that problem."

Micah smiled, even as inward he was screaming, 'No! Get away! Augh!' "I wasn't planning on... how to phrase it? 'Hop around'? For Sadie Pokens."

Yvonne smiled wistfully. "Would you prefer an OfficerJenny, then? She rather liked the impromptu speech you gave."

Micah gave a jangled, bell-ringing shake of his head. "I've never been one to casually sleep around before I became a tamer, and I don't plan on changing that habit, lustful and heady notions of debauched and unrestrained pleasure aside. It wouldn't be very fair to her."

Yvonne blinked at the odd turn of phrase. "Fair to her? How so?"

Micah shrugged as even Anya turned a curious gaze in his direction. "Pokegirls need sex as much as they need breathing. If you are the impetuous that allows a person to breath, taking that away is akin to cruelty."

"I never thought about it that way, before," Yvonne mused, tone distracted as she considered the implications.

"Fair enough. I never thought I'd have a Megami offering to set me up to sleep with an OfficerJenny before," Micah replied with a smile.

Yvonne came down from her musings to smile in return. "Oh? Isn't that a Megami's role? I should at least make sure that someone's happy, even if it isn't me."

"Hum," Micah replied, sipping his espresso.

"So," Yvonne smiled. "What are you looking for in pokegirls for your harem?"

"I'm not," Micah replied, thankful that Anya was letting him handle the pushy Megami, even with the StarMystic being deathly calm. If Anya got too pushy in an attempt to make Yvonne shut the hell up and -go away-... well, that would be suspicious, wouldn't it? "I already have a full harem, and I'm quite content with each and every last one of them." A casual, cloak-rustling shrug. "Which is kind of weird. Capital League law has the various requirements that you can't keep over so many pokegirls in your harem, but they also stipulate you have to find refuges for them. As it would be pretty cruel to sell off a pokegirl you acquired because she honestly wanted to go with you, I'm slightly confused what they want from me."

Yvonne smiled. "Actually, you missed one part of the law regarding Sadie Pokens Day and harem acquisition."

"Which part?"

"Pokegirls acquired via their selection of you during Sadie Pokens Day don't count toward your harem limits," Yvonne announced cheerfully. "Mind, you have to keep them tamed, but if you, say, oh, gained a hundred pokegirls somehow during Sadie Pokens, it would be perfectly legal to keep all of them, regardless of rank."

Micah said nothing, calmly attempting to rein in the internal urge to run away, screaming. "I'll be certain," he replied after a moment, "To remember that."

Yvonne smiled.

-[***]-

It was the second day of Sadie Poken's week in Juneau, and Linda McMahon, Wife and Ally of Vince McMahon, was enjoying herself.

Not in any obvious way, of course. Protected under spells of obscurity that would make all but the most acute mage skitter their attention away from her, she was doing what she viewed as a vital and necessary means of information gathering; being here, on the ground, with the people that made up the Capital League, getting a feel for the pulse and opinion.

For a place that's under the sword of Damocles, Linda thought wryly to herself, the overall feel was pretty good. Not that she expected anyone on the street to be cognizant of some of the shake-ups that were going on in the upper echelons.

She shivered faintly. Before, the Creators had been a nebulous threat. Oh, what Sanctuary had summoned was more or less real - they could be touched, they could bleed, they could be harmed, without a doubt. And, certainly, they had particular... oddities about them. But nothing god-like in their makeup or capabilities.

Linda tried not to scowl as irritation surged anew. She had known about the -idea- some had put forth, but the grating element was how far -along- it had been before she actually learned of the full impact. She had known that there were secrets being kept from her -darkness knew she had secrets of her own! But this...

And then Jenova's head had shown up, and everything solid had been thrown out the window.

A near-legendary. -Dead-. -How-? Had this Kerrik somehow gained a harem powerful enough to slaughter something like Jenova out of hand? Or, the worst possibility, had the initial examinations been incorrect, that they really -were- powers of some sort, buying their time or merely playing at the cat’s-paw for sheer, sadistic amusement?

No one knew. Worse still, this Kerrik -knew- about Sanctuary, and -knew- about the Capital League. And given what Sanctuary had -done-, if the political arena at large knew just how... familiar... the Capital League uppers were with Sanctuary; worse, if the news somehow became widespread...

Economic sanctions at best. Worse was the possibility of political sanctions. If the McMahon's and their allies were viewed by the conglomerate Leagues of the world as -criminally negligent-...

At best, they'd be oh-so-politely asked to step-down. With the idea of 'refusal' simply not a feasible option. At worst, given it's size, the Capital League could be dismantled - forcefully.

Linda shook off those dark thoughts. No. The chances of that were small; if Kerrik wanted to play the political threat game, he'd have done so already. So that just left accidents that could expose the tangled relations that Capital shared with Sanctuary.

Something unusual caught her eye; the sight of two Youma, both of whom were giggling like schoolgirls over a shared picture between the two of them. She smiled at the sight, having seen similar; hell, she'd even had to deal with more than a few mobs of pokekits and pokegirls whom viewed her husband as prime taming material. Curious, she drifted over, wondering just what kind of Tamer had caught their attention.

Her breath froze in her throat like a lump of ice. Disregard the wings, the claws, the -teeth-. And the eyes, oh god, the eyes. The face.

-The face was the same-.

"Where did you get that picture!?" Linda demanded in a low hiss, eliciting a scream of surprise from both Youma, both whipping around in startlement.

"It's ours, you can't," one began.

Terror and confusion both warred in Linda's brain, and for one rare instance, her patience snapped as her Aura of Command slammed down upon both Youma, and she repeated in a soft, low, even tone, "-Where did you get that picture?-"

"It's one of the tamer's attending the Sadie Pokens!" the other blurted. "Alex the Cameragirl was selling pictures and contact info at the Demoness Palace to anyone whom could pay! She's always done stuff like this!"

Linda stared in horror, then waved them both off. "Go!"

Him. The Creator that she had suspected to be in Vancouver. Briefly, Linda felt a spurt of sheer, incandescent rage at the gall of two other S-Goths forcibly intruding on -her- Capital League. In the aftermath, she had begged, borrowed, stolen, throttled, and brutalized to find out every scrap of info that had led up to that assault, and the reason behind it. And that stab of terror, to learn that Capital had been host to one of the Creators all along, and no one had really known about it.

But he should have left! He would have known that Sanctuary knew where he was, so...

But they'd assume similar, too. That he'd leave Capital for safer areas.

Just as she's assumed, as well.

But he had been -human-. Blonde haired. Normal blue eyes. -Human-.

This one wasn't.

-But the face was the same.-

Linda swallowed back the implications. She had to think about this. And then tell Vince.

-[***]-

Micah and Cornelia stepped into the darkened warehouse. Someone had setup partitions to act as a foyer before entering the impromptu club proper; Micah could hear the subdued beat of music, the UV play of lights casting parts of the ramshackle club with an unearthly glow, and he could even feel the odd prickle-edge that hinted someone was utilizing magic to make the darkness deeper than it had any right to be.

Both were dressed to fit with the surroundings, Cornelia in a tattered, black petticoat dress and a black veil over her face, as if she was the bride of honor at some unholy wedding. Micah had discarded his Harliquinade persona; in it's place, he wore loose, flowing black robes, a billowing black cloak that helped to hide his wings, black leather gloves, a plague mask with a glowering frown and a hooked beak nose, with a leather tricorn hat forcefully affixed to his head to obscure the line of his horns. When he and Cornelia signed in, he gave his name as the Marquis De Galle. He was pleased with the outfit overall, it's cut allowing for a modicum of better freedom than if he had gone as the Harliquinade, though his wings and claws still felt cramped as ever.

Inside was quiet and secretive; this was no raver party, and the only spastic flux of activity took place on the dance floor itself. Neither were Cornelia and Micah equipped with the oddest costumes to be had. Spread out between the various Goths, Divas, Vampires, Gar-Gals, and other more gothically-inclined pokegirls and Tamers, many had allowed their imagination free exercise. At least one Tigress had gone to the trouble to dye her fur completely black, much to Micah's private amusement.

Micah sequestered a private area where they could watch the dance floor. Cornelia returned from the bar with a silver platter bearing a bottle of Absinthe, two glasses, and a pitcher of cold water. The two of them cuddled together on a long, side-less couch, with Micah perched on the end as they watched pokegirls twist and writhe on the dance floor in beat to the music, private, individual displays that held meaning only to the person acting them out.

A dip of a tricorn hat, as Micah leaned in close. "I'm surprised you enjoy this," he murmured to the Demon-Goddess.

A soft 'click', as Cornelia reached up and separated the mask's lower half, and offered Micah a glass of the alcohol. "I'm glad you wanted to take me, Master," she murmured.

Micah grinned as he took it. "How does the old expression go? I'll try anything twice." He lightly caressed at her hair through the rustle of veils. "Its fun and I want you to enjoy yourself."

The Demon-Goddess colored slightly. Taking a sip of her absinthe, she murmured, "Are you happy with me, master?"

"You saved my life," Micah replied in a soft murmur. "I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for that. 'Happy' is an understatement. 'Extremely deliriously so' would be a better qualifier."

Cornelia smiled briefly, before her expression turned somber. "What will you do if Anya's Card works as planned?"

Micah let the absinthe roll over his tongue as he took a small side. "How so?"

"If it allows you to return home. Where there’re no pokegirls. There would be no place for us there, if we came with you." Cornelia's one good eye looked ready to spill over with tears.

Micah set his drink aside, reached under Cornelia's veil, and cupped her cheek. "Cornelia," he murmured, "I don't care. I'm bringing all of you with me back home, if that's the case; even if I have to drag you back in chains." He took a deep breath. "Even in the best of circumstances, if Anya's intended Card works as planned, I won't be able to stay there. I can't - won't - go back to the way things were before. The best I can hope for is to get some word to my family and friends that I'm alright."

Cornelia gave a weak smile. "I'm sorry." A shake of her head, a rustle of silk, and she clung tightly to him. "I shouldn't have brought it up, but I've been so worried, and the rest of the harem is always -there-."

Micah wrapped one arm firmly around her middle, throwing his cloak around her as well. "You know, given your attack replication capabilities, you could likely employ your imitate to mimic Ludmilla's telepathy so you can stay in contact with me."

Cornelia opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Micah smiled. "I think that's what we'll work on developing next."

"...thank you."

Micah's teeth gleamed in the darkness, fangs showing as he grinned. "I'm supposed to make sure you're happy and content, Cornelia. If you want to bring something up, do so, even if you need to forcefully make sure we have some privacy."

Cornelia smiled, a measure of her more harsh mannerism coming back to the fore. "Yes, Master." Draping herself across his chest, she murmured as she pointed out to the dance floor. "Look."

A petite pokegirl with a gymnastics build and long, blonde-white hair had taken over a part of the dance floor, moving to her own private beat in an athletic display of skill and suppleness, dressed as she was in black leathers and knee-high, thick-soled boots. Micah found himself entranced as he watched her, the dance moves coming across as somehow familiar. Eventually, he just discarded the attempt to recall where he'd seen them before, and simply enjoyed the sight.

"Pretty," Cornelia whispered, and then added, "I wonder if Anya is having fun."

Micah smiled faintly. "I'm sure we would have heard something by now if she wasn't."

-[***]-

"EEEEEEE! THERE HE IS!"

Anya, under the effects of the Illusion Card, smiled as the group of pokegirls caught sight of her, wearing the image of Micah as his Harliquinade persona.

Anya had to privately admit that Micah was, perhaps, being a bit -too-paranoid - no one was likely being attentive enough to know that the Marquis and the Harliquinade weren't showing up at the same locations. But best to cover all the angles.

And, Anya had to admit, as she made a gleeful and showy sprint to higher ground in an attempt to escape the chasing group, this was kind of fun. Maybe there was something to the idea of dress up in persona costumes after all.

-[***]-

It was the third day of Capital League's Sadie Poken's week in Juneau, and Alexstraza was doing a -very- brisk business.

She grinned, feeling rather happy with herself as she surveyed the booth. She wasn't just running a business, she was doing a service! After all, how else were all the pokegirls attending supposed to learn of the more unique Tamers present? Some pokegirls had -very-discerning tastes and requirements, so all the better that she could provide them with the requisite nudge in the right direction while earning a profit.

Giving a survey of the various photos and posters she offered, some of them downright pornographic when she could manage them, Alex had to admit that she had definitely hit upon a goldmine this year. She tried not to smirk as another poster of the infamous 'Demon Lord' as everyone had taken to calling him sold. The wonders of good marketing. If she stumbled across him again, she'd at least be certain to treat him properly for all the business he was bringing her!

She then tried to both stifle a double-take and a delighted grin as someone she never expected to show to her little business doing so. She recognized her from the opening ceremonies, of course. But Alex was instantly curious as to why Linda McMahon, of all people, was showing up -here-.

"Why, good -morning- Mrs. McMahon," Alex grinned as she stood, brushing her hands together to wipe away imaginary dust. "You'll excuse me if I venture some delight and surprise at you appearing at my humble place of business."

Linda return smile was only half-professional. The other half was honestly cordial - she certainly wasn't going to fault an entrepreneurial pokegirl to be bold and up-front. "Good morning," she replied. "And I'm here primarily on business, actually." She tapped a finger against a display case showing off pictures of tamers and the price for contact information. "I was wondering if you could get me the contact information for this 'demon lord' of yours."

Alex chuckled as she pulled out a sealed envelop with the requisite information. She trusted natural pokegirl competitiveness to keep the info valuable more than anything. "Your husband thinking he has a prime future in showmanship?"

"Something like that," Linda replied.

-[***]-

Micah as the Harliquinade flipped through the stack of books with relish, chuckling absently. It was the afternoon of the fourth day, edging more toward the evening, and he was -very- thankful to have made it so far without incident. He was alone for the first time in a very, very long time, the pokegirls of his harem having been such a constant that to not have them nearby was an oddity.

He grinned beneath his mask as he stumbled upon a copy of the Hobbit. Ahhh. Comfort books. Thank goodness for reprints. Several G-Points gave him odd looks as they shared the spread of books at the merchant kiosk. He ignored them, as the Harliquinade would. And besides, this was the first time he'd had the chance to privately indulge in a little fun, and he'd be damned if he let other people interrupt his book-browsing.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and the world distorted in the familiar sensation of a teleport. Micah spun in a jangle of bells and fabric, dropping his selected parcels to witness a red-skinned Demoness skip away with obvious delight and glee, the surroundings what looked like an abandoned industrial park on the outskirts of Juneau.

Then he saw Yvonne. The Megami had been tied to a makeshift crucifix of molded together steel, her naked body a crisscross of bruising and claw-made wounds.

The Demoness bowed low. "My lord, I am Ashtoreth. Please let this unworthy servant serve you in every manner possible." She giggled. "Look, my lord! What a gift I've made for you. Let us satiate our lusts and hunger on this bitch-Megami's flesh!"

Yvonne stirred, eyes going wide as she caught sight of him, part confusion, part hope.

Ashtoreth's grinning leer was horrible to behold. "Oh, my lord. She hadn't had a chance to see you in your full glory. Let's show her now!" She flung her hand out, fingers splayed, and the impact of magic slammed into Micah as he raised his forearms to block instinctively.

His outfit came undone at the seams, his mask bursting apart in a shower of porcelain fragments, his wings flexing as they suddenly became unrestricted. The remains of his cloak, mask, and shirt fluttered around him before finally giving up any semblance of fabric, spinning away into the wind.

Yvonne stared. Ashtoreth let out another giggle of delight, running her tongue along Yvonne's cheek. "It's he incredible?" she whispered hotly into the Megami's ear. "I'm going to love watching him tear you open...!"

Micah absently glanced at his hands. Upon seeing their gloved state, he pulled them off, letting his claws flex free. Feet planted shoulder-width apart, Micah looked up at Ashtoreth with his blue-on-black eyes and murmured calmly, "Get out of here before I kill you."

Silence.

Ashtoreth blinked from where she was pressed up against Yvonne. "Eh...?"

"Did I stutter?" Micah replied as his lips drew back from his teeth, exposing them in a snarl as he moved toward the two of them, wings arcing behind him. "Get out of here before I KILL you."

The Demoness looked in open confusion from Yvonne to Micah and back again. "Was... was I supposed to kill her, my lord? I could do that now-"

By now Micah hand moved into striking distance, and drew his clawed hand down in an overhead strike that scored against Ashtoreth's red flesh, ripping her top and leaving sharp lines of blood down her skin. The Demoness stumbled back in confusion, looking as if she was going to say something further -

- and then caught sight of Micah's eyes.

She bolted, screaming in a high, shrill tone of raw fear, and was quickly out of sight.

Micah took a deep, shuddering breath. Looked over at Yvonne, and then carefully used his thumb-claw to slice through the ropes that held her up, ignoring the blood that smeared over him as he carefully helped her down. "I'm sorry."

Yvonne smiled weakly. "It looks worse than it is." She glanced up at him, trying not to stare. "I... why...?"

Micah quirked a blonde eyebrow. "Would you want everyone staring and pointing at you like you were some sort of carnival freak show? Of course not." He shook his head. "Let me call one of my harem..."

"No need," Yvonne replied softly. "With her gone, she's no longer blocking-"

A sharp scream of surprise and fear.

"-my telepathy," Yvonne finished as she rolled her eyes.

A Seraph stared at the two of them, recovering from her initial reaction, then manifested an energy blade and leveled it at Micah. "Demon! Let her go!"

Micah rolled his eyes. "Get over here and heal her, woman."

The Seraph's look of confusion, Micah was amused to note, looked remarkably similar to the Demoness' earlier expression.

Yvonne let out a quiet sigh. "Cloud, get over here and do what the nice Tamer asked you too."

The Seraph's expression warred between confusion and fear, before she timidly shuffled near as if she was expecting Micah to lunge up at any moment, force her down, and tame her viciously. "...really?"

Yvonne let out another sigh. "I take back my earlier question about your costume."

Micah couldn't help but smile.

Cloud began pouring healing energies from her hands to heal the weakened Megami. Once she was whole enough to move, the Seraph unexpectedly extracted her from Micah's grip and wrapped her wings around Yvonne. "There," she noted as she continued to heal. "You shouldn't let Tamers cast their lascivious eye on your nude form, Yvonne."

The Megami winced as she was moved. "I was a little busy...!"

Micah smiled as he stood. "Lascivious."

Cloud looked up at Micah and frowned angrily. Or tried too. "What of it?"

He shook his head. "Just highly amused. I like that word. Lascivious."

"THERE you are! I finally goddamn well found you!"

A look of fury flicked across Micah's face, a single thought running through his head of 'What the flying fuck NOW!?!' He turned, to find a Galem Pokegirl looking at him and grinning as she talked into a hand-held unit.

"Yup, he's here," she went on into the hand-set. "Just home in on my position. Yeah, there we go..."

A second pokegirl appeared, and Micah froze.

A Sanctuary Goth.

Linda McMahon surveyed her surroundings, then focused in on Micah, and couldn't help but stare momentarily. "...ah. Micah Hakubi?"

Micah remembered how to breathe, belatedly, and sucked in a ragged breath. "...yes?"

"I'm Linda McMahon, wife and ally of Vince McMahon, Grand Harem Master of the Capital League," she replied. "He and I and a few other people would like very much to talk with you."

"Do I have a choice of refusal?" Micah replied in a dry tone.

"...nnnnnot really?" the Galem pokegirl grinned.

Linda frowned. "We're not threatening you. We're not sure if you're aware of this, but something has... happened."

Micah didn't glance back at the two celestial pokegirl behind him. They would, more than likely, be no help whatsoever. Cut off from his harem, with none of them aware of where he was... He could try to contact Ludmilla, but actively attempting to mentally contact, as opposed to the other way around, had been problematic in the past, and would take too much effort now. He felt his arm brush against the pouch attached to his belt, and tried not to show the relief he felt. "I take it you want to discuss all this privately."

Linda nodded. "Exactly."

Micah forced himself not to flinch as Linda gripped his arm for a teleport.

-[***]-

Ashtoreth finally stumbled to a halt, voice hoarse from screaming, lungs burning from sheer effort. More than anything, it was confusion that played around in her brain, now that the scene replayed in her brain. She had been terrified. Deathly so. Worse still, it was as if she couldn't think - if she had been in -that- much danger, then why the hell hadn't she teleported out?

She let out a soft moan, one of dismay, regret, and lust - to think that she had found a Tamer that could make her act like an Ingenue facing off against a Panthress, and even worse, he didn't want her.

She canted her head to the side. Maybe she simply hadn't tried hard enough? Perhaps a few half-dead angels to slake his lusts would be more appealing than a single Megami.

A noise disturbed her ruminations. She frowned, as another pokegirl appeared, this one familiar, if dim in recognition. Ashtoreth could recall the commotion this petite, white-blonde haired pokegirl had caused when she had appeared at the Infernal congregation.

"You've caused him a great deal of stress," she noted softly, fangs gleaming in the twilight. "My future Master."

Ashtoreth snorted, giving a dismissive wave. "Someone like him wouldn't have anything to do with a small-breasted little play-whore, Vampire. Go look for some of those boys that call themselves tamers if you want to impress someone with your oral skills. I'm sure if you tried to fuck a real man, it would all end in tears."

A small black kitten mewled as it pranced up and rubbed up against the Chibi Pokegirl's leg. The girl smiled, picking up the unnatural sight into her arms. The kitten mewled again, it's features blurring as the eldritch power that kept it's form coherent lost it's potency, the familiar melting back into the pokegirl's flesh with a disturbing, lurching ripple.

Ashtoreth stared, the implications only now coming to realization, and flicked a glance at the Chibi.

Lambent, unholy red eyes glowed incandescent as the Chibi Lucarda chuckled softly. "Is that so?"

The lance of eldritch power licked up from the Lucarda's feet, striking with enough force to that it ripped through Ashtoreth's stomach and erupted out her back. A soft gurgle from the Demoness, pain blotting out any higher reaction, as the Lucarda yanked her close, powerful arms holding her immobile as her jaw distended, clamping down with a bone-cracking chomp as she began voraciously sucking blood from the Demoness body, and only then was Ashtoreth able to scream.

-[***]-

Vince McMahon stared at Micah. He thought the tamer worth a stare or two, naked from the waist up and smeared with blood.

Micah regarded Vince calmly, keeping his expression neutral and making the attempt to not let his displeasure and foul-mood rise to the surface. He quietly supposed that he should be impressed somehow, but given everything that had occurred to him he couldn't really muster any sense of awe.

Paul 'Triple H' Levesque and Mark Calloway were the other two Master Tamers in attendance, Paul looking about as impressed with Micah as Micah was with Vince, with Mark's cold expression making it clear he didn't care either which way. Linda was the only pokegirl, though Micah doubted that really mattered at the moment - it would just take a brief second for any of them to summon their harems.

Micah had none of this. Just him, and a plan. Granted, it was a plan he had intended to use if Sanctuary pulled another Vancouver, but he supposed it would adapt in a pinch.

"So," Micah broke the silence, "I suppose there's a reason you went to all the trouble to find me."

Vince nodded slowly. "Right." With a heavy sigh, he reached over and pulled out a sheaf of pictures from an envelope, and handed them to Micah.

Micah took them with a measure of confusion, glancing curiously at the pro-offered items. His confusion deepened at the severed head the pictures were of. Micah flipped through them, then turned them at odd angles, canting his head to the side as if trying to see what the hell the deal was. He resisted the urge to make a hand puppet joke. He doubted it would go over well. "What am I supposed to see here?"

Vince scowled. Mark Calloway snorted. Paul rolled his eyes in disgust.

"This might explain things better," Linda replied as she handed Micah another item, this one a photocopy of a letter. If the machismo in the room got any worse, she was going to have trouble breathing.

Micah set the pictures aside, took the letter, and skimmed it quickly. And burst out laughing.

-[***]-

Nunnally was flying, very hard, and very fast.

She was worried. Worse, she didn't know -why- she was worried; just a sliver of concern, deep in the pit of her stomach, which communicated one thing alone.

Her Master was in danger. Worse still, none of his harem knew where he was.

The Armsmistress focused hard on that thread, trying to track it down to it's source as she flew.

-[***]-

"Holy shit, Kerrik," Micah commented as he tried not to chuckle further, his voice heavy with glee as he grinned, re-reading over the letter. "You don't do things by half!"

Linda's scowl was exceeded only by Vince's angry gaze. "Do you know why he would do this?" the S-Goth asked.

"Typhonna's head is too big to ship via mail?" Micah replied.

"Be serious," the Undertaker noted coldly.

Micah shrugged, tossing the letter on a nearby table. "Hell if I know." He could make numerous guesses, but he'd be damned if he'd mention any of them.

"You're a creator, boy," Paul Levesque pointed out. "Just like him. You damn well -should- know."

"The most I communicated with Kerrik was in idle commentary on the stories he wrote," Micah replied with another wing-rustling shrug. "And I fail to see where any of this concerns me. So Jenova's dead. Whoop-de-da."

"You're a Tamer of the Capital League," Vince replied. "If I damn well say it's your concern, then it damn well -is- your concern."

"We want you to somehow find Kerrik and convince him not to kill us all," Linda summed up before further side-tracking could occur.

Micah blinked. "Oh. Is that all? I refuse."

-[***]-

Nunnally came down upon the roof of one of the more upscale hotels in Juneau. She didn't hesitate as she dismissed her wings and went through the roof access door.

She stopped at the penthouse level, going through the stair access door and heading unerringly for a set of doors guarded by a Galem and a Marble pokegirl.

"Move aside," Nunnally stated calmly. "I am here for my Master. Nothing else."

Nadia, the Galem, smiled. "Looks like I'm going to have to disappoint."

Nunnally drew her blade.

Nadia grinned. "Oh, boy. A -fight-."

-[***]-

"-What-!?" Vince snapped.

Micah shrugged. "I said, 'No'. I have no incentive to follow your agenda, and there's nothing you can give me that I want. If anything, allying myself with you simply makes me a far larger and obvious target."

"If you officially join up with us, we can protect you! Protect you from Sanctuary!" Vince replied. "Isn't that what you want?"

"I believe you think that," Micah replied.

"Doesn't matter what you want or not, boy," Paul Levesque stated. "You're a Tamer of the Capital League. If you refuse a call-out by League Officials, an audit's the best thing that could happen to you."

"Ah," Micah replied softly. "So that's what it comes down too."

"Yes," Paul replied. "It does."

The room's door was blown apart by a cartwheeling body that rolled painfully on the floor. Nunnally let out a tortured groan, her body battered, bruised, and partly broken in places, wings manifested, as she struggled to rise to her feet.

"Oops!" Nadia called out, as she stepped through the remains of the door. "Sorry, Vince! Here, let me get that..." Reaching out, she gripped Nunnally's wings, and gave a firm -yank-, eliciting a pained scream from the Armsmistress.

"NUNNALLY!" Micah bellowed in a panic.

Light erupted from Nunnally's form, two additional, glowing, white, feathered wings emerging from her back to match the first, bringing the count to six total. Nadia panicked and stumbled back as Nunnally rose from the floor, picking herself up as her silver hair furled and moved like some molten banner behind her. The newly evolved pokegirl opened her fully healed eyes, and gold irises glared at the Galem pokegirl.

"Arkhangelsk," Micah whispered softly, half in awe, half in confusion. "Nunnally...?"

Nadia moved first. Nunnally was faster, a brilliant beam of harsh white light erupting into a blade form from her clenched fist. For all the Galem's battle prowess, to Nunnally's evolved form, she might as well have been standing still as she maneuvered and sheered Nadia's legs off at the knees.

"JOANIE!" Paul yelled out, counting on said Herowu in the other room to come immediately to his aid.

"Wrong fucking answer," Micah snarled, as he reached into the pouch at his side, pulled out a remote detonator, flipped up the cover, and pressed the button.

A staggered series of detonations were heard in the distance, and the lights cut off.

-[***]-

The NurseJoy frowned as the lights of the pokecenter cut off, wondering what was happening. She glanced with a sigh at the large storage depot for pokeballs the Center contained, the mechanism in question having moved over to battery backup. A shake of her pink-haired head, and she went over to shut the machine down, putting it on standby rather than chance the remote occurrence of it having some sort of accident when it's firmware decided the backup battery had run-down to the point it needed to shutdown automatically.

And stopped, as the release portal for pokeballs disgorged one, the red-white orb flying out. Then a second, and another, and didn't stop as a literal rain of pokeballs began to pour forth.

The NurseJoy in question didn't know that the machine had been hacked. It had been simple enough to mess with the settings of the firmware. To the machine's rather dim understanding, it was about to catastrophically loose power. And rather than risk loose it's precious contents, it had voted to undergo an emergency release.

A second firmware hack had toggled the pokeballs to open upon being released from stasis.

The NurseJoy's eyes widened as the first ball shook, disgorged it's contents in a flash of red light. She didn't wait for the third to open, instead hitting the door, slamming it closed, locking it, and hitting the fire alarm.

-[***]-

Euphemia looked at Ludmilla. Ludmilla looked at Euphemia. Both turned to look at the OfficerJenny guarding the Naval Depot.

The blue-haired police pokegirl hit the ground, asleep, before she had a chance to think about what those explosions meant or why most of Juneau had just gone dark.

"You know where the Captain is?" Euphemia asked.

"I know my part, you know yours," Ludmilla replied, the Dire Wolf's ears flicking back momentarily. "You get to where you need to be, and I'll drop you into Dreamtime as soon as I've gotten it done."

-[***]-

Roger frowned atop his Ponytaur. Erin danced back unexpectedly at the appearance of the Tigress from out of an alleyway.

"Is she feral?" the Tamer wondered in confusion. "It's Sadie Pokens Week. What the hell is a feral pokegirl doing anywhere near here?"

The Tigress leaped for them both. Roger had enough presence of mind to hand on as Erin did a full mid-air turn kick that impacted her hind-legs on the Tigress' chest and sent her skittering away. "I'd say so, Master!"

Roger frowned, catching sight of an open pokeball that had rolled out in the middle of the alleyway where the Tigress came from. "What the hell is going on here?"

-[***]-

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO!?" Vince bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Linda hands moved in a spell initiator, intent on binding Nunnally until the newly evolved pokegirl could calm, then bit back a scream as teeth dug into her shoulder, her body betraying her as blood and more was sucked from her form by the attack.

"My Master!" the petite white-blonde pokegirl let the weakened S-Goth drop, then teleported to Micah's side.

"Nunnally!" Micah yelled out. "Exit!"

Nunnally, now floating in mid-air, pivoted smartly, arm stretched, palm out, and fired off a Hyperbeam that sheered through the hotel's walls and cleared a seven-foot wide tunnel. Micah didn't think as he scooped up the petite, blonde-white haired pokegirl in his arms and leapt into the air, wings catching the wind with Nunnally close behind him.

They hit the streets running, ignoring the panicked and confused denizens as Micah made for the best clearing feasible. If everything went according to plan, Ludmilla and Euphemia should be doing their part any second now...

A beam of blue-white light that crackled with sorcerous energies cut off Micah's headlong rush.

"You know," Linda McMahon stated, the remains of the flight spell depositing her neatly on the ground, "I'm beginning to share some of my husband's frustration. No more Mrs. Nice Archmage." Despite the Chibi-Lucarda's near-crippling attack, she was mostly recovered, a testimony to the raw power she could marshal when pressed.

"I'm not exactly very inclined to co-operate with my blackmailers and kidnappers," Micah replied calmly, turning to face her. The Chibi-Lucarda in his arms was suddenly not, the petite white-blonde's eyes now a lambent red as they glared at Linda, flanking Micah.

Linda frowned. "We didn't-"

Micah rolled his eyes. Nunnally hovered close, ready to cover if Linda attacked further. "Yes, because I was being given -such- a choice. 'Do this or else' isn't a choice and you know it. If you had asked nicely and remained honorable, I might have been willing at a later date to put in a good word. Now, you're no better than Sanctuary."

Linda scowled. "I am not-"

"It's time for you to learn what kind of gods and demons your kind has summoned to this world," Micah cut her off sharply, and further conversation was rendered moot by the howl of anti-gravs and turbines as the frigate-type Airship 'Kite' fell out of the sky in an emergency drop maneuver.

Anya appeared behind Micah, and all four of them were teleported aboard the Kite's bridge where Ludmilla, Cornelia, and Euphemia were waiting. The G-splice was grinning with barely restrained glee, screens orbiting around her as the Kite's system danced to her mental tune. "Welcome aboard, Captain!" Already the Kite was moving, engines screaming in an attempt to move the airship up to speed. "Shall I set a course?"

Micah glanced out at the twilight sky, and then down at the chaos of Juneau below. "Anywhere but here, Euphemia. Anywhere but here."

-[***]-

Author Notes: The Harliquinade is taken, in concept, not appearance, from Grant Morrison's 'The Invisibles'.

Marquis Vol De Galle -and- his appearance are taken from Guy Davis' comic, 'The Marquis'.

The 'Pokegirls Taken during Sadie Pokens week don't count toward your harem limit' is completely made up by me. But it sounds like something Capital would do, isn't it?