18

Standard Disclaimers apply. Written by Micah Hakubi at feynman dot project AT SPAMOHMYGODHELPUSALL gmail dot com. You can guess the drill regarding contact.

The story is mine, the setting is not. We all give thanks to Metroanime daily for putting up with us messing around his in awesome world. Ahmen.

To quote Kerrik Wolf, "You should not read this work if you are under the age of legal consent wherever you reside. This work may or may not contain any and/or all of the following: death, dismemberment, violent acts, implied sex, explicit sex, violent sex, rape, cannibalism, blasphemy (depending on your religion), BDSM, torture, necrophilia, mimes, and just about anything unwholesome that you could consider."

Feedback welcome. I probably need the syntax abuse.

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

[Chapter 18]
 
The special communication code Micah had Euphemia set up had originally been a method to communicate with metaphorical VIPs while not alerting them to where Micah and his harem was located. It was a sensible enough approach, and time had proven that it had been a wise decision. After all, given all the various locations that he had laired at and utilized, it was the only one that had failed to be compromised.
 
That said, even if it was the only communication line with people like Bevin, Yuuki, and Cologne, Micah was seriously considering shutting the damn thing down given the rate it was apparently being passed around.
 
Micah regarded the new face on the other end of the communication screen. Pretty, he had to admit in a clinical fashion. Dark tanned skin with a set of exotic features that made one think of spices and kohl, silk and hot sands being caught on a zephyr wind, only interrupted by a set of gold-furred cat ears. He ignored her pretty if smug smile as he reached down and plucked an errant strand from his grey-neutral sweater, then focused on the apparent catgirl on the communication screen. "Good evening, Bastit," Micah rumbled as he tried not to slump back in his seat or make a number of unwise comments. "You'll excuse me if I remark that I find your impromptu social call rather unexpected."
 
Bright white teeth gleamed against dark skin. "Good evening, Micah. You've been coming up in some discussions lately, so I thought we might want to have a chat."
 
No threats? Micah thought in confusion. "I'll take your word for it. Heaven knows what kind of conversation my name would be brought up in."
 
"Sexmet has been rather vehement at times, I will admit," Bastit replied, that grin of hers not leaving her face. "I'm sure she was only joking when she commented a desire to find out how delicious your entrails would be."
 
Lovely. "I'd suggest trying my heart for its succulence, but recent events have given it a rather blackened hue; she'd probably just end up breaking her teeth," Micah replied sardonically. Micah didn't react whenever his peripheral vision caught Sexebi entering the 'conference room', carrying something with her. The video input didn't allow Bastit to see her, either. "That said, I'm sure we could sit here all day, remarking about the wonders of cannibalism, but given things, I have to wonder. Why are you calling?"
 
"I've heard you've had some recent troubles," Bastit noted. "And I thought you might like some help. So, I'm giving you an invitation to stay with me on my island."
 
Son of a bitch, Micah thankfully didn't blurt that out, though from the look on Bastit's face, he knew he didn't keep his expression neutral. "That's a very odd invitation to extend," Micah finally managed to scrape together enough brainpower to reply. "Given that you remarked just a moment ago about Sexmet's apparently murderous glee involving me and my body."
 
Bastit waved the matter off as if inconsequential. "I'm sure she and I can come to an understanding. I can be -very- persuasive," she purred. "And given how tired you must be, I'm sure some... pampering wouldn't be out of the question."
 
That his hands were steepled in front of him kept Micah from attempting to claw anything nearby. It was still a close thing. He was about to reply whenever Sexebi, whom he had lost track of in his focus on Bastit, slid past his wings to press up against the back of his chair, arms going around his neck.
 
Micah tangentially imagined that his look of surprise had nothing on Bastit's.
 
"Hello, Bastit," Sexebi replied in a decidedly neutral tone. "Cat got your tongue?"
 
That seemed to jerk Bastit out of her surprise. "Sexebi," she replied, "I didn't expect to see you so soon."
 
"You probably didn't," Sexebi agreed. "As you can see, Micah has -all- the help he needs. Though, if you're that lonely, I'm sure I could drop by and... -discuss- things."
 
Bastit blinked and opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.
 
"Goodbye, Bastit," Sexebi waved cheerfully and promptly toggled the call termination button.
 
Sexebi jerked away from Micah as if she had been stung as soon as the screen cut off. "I'm sorry I'm sorry," she blurted. "I didn't think... She just made me so -mad-... I told them, just..." The petite Legendary stamped her foot as she clenched her fist together. "I ask them nicely, but they never treat me seriously!"
 
Micah extracted himself from his chair, stretching out his wings absently. “Trust me," he replied, "You saved me a hell of a lot of trouble."
 
Sexebi blinked those wide eyes of hers. "I did?"
 
Micah smirked faintly. "You did. Given my druthers, I'd just tell her to piss off. But for some strange reason, Legendaries tend to get rather -cranky- when you do something that mortally offends them." He rolled his eyes, disgusted. "So! You can say a lot of things I can't, and saved me the problem of coming up with a polite way to say 'go away and leave me alone'. Come to think, you had suspiciously good... timing." Micah quirked a grin.
 
Sexebi giggled. "That's horrible." She went over and retrieved something she had been carrying with her when she had entered. Looking closer, it was a data card, the metaphorical equivalent of a flash drive for pokedexes. "Ta-dah!"
 
Micah curiously took the pro-offered item, turning it over in his hand. "What is it?"
 
"It's a message, from your friend, Kerrik."
 
Micah froze. "How did you get a hold of it?"
 
"Evangelion gave it to me."
 
Micah went momentarily cross-eyed. "How did Evangelion get a hold of it?"
 
"She's living with him."
 
Micah opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it, thought better of it, closed it once more. "Wait. What?"
 
Sexebi giggled. "I know! I was surprised, too."
 
"-Living- together? As in..." Micah gestured. "Stealing from his fridge, living together, or... y'know, doing the horizontal lambada?"
 
Sexebi covered her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter, wings shaking as she did so, apparently finding the term 'horizontal lambada' far more funny than Micah would have thought. "I think it's the latter," the petite Legendary said, wiping a tear away, then smiled brightly. "She called him 'special'."
 
Micah eyed the data card like it was a live bomb. "Whoof." He reached up and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I am -so- confused."
 
Sexebi cocked her head. "Why's that?"
 
"Because," he paused and trailed off, information flitting through his brain. "Huh. Okay. But..." He frowned. "Let me try this again. The majority of Legendaries... assuming they're assisting the authors in various ways to combat Sanctuary, don't exactly come across to me as if they'd invest that heavily in the authors themselves."
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"I'm using bad terminology, sorry," Micah smiled wryly. "I mean, none of them gave me the impression as individuals who'd start sleeping with someone that they're using as an agent to strike back at a hostile force. And, honestly, Evangelion is the -last- Legendary I'd expect to metaphorically pin someone else to the ground and fuck their brains out. Excuse the phrasing."
 
Sexebi giggled. "You're excused."
 
"That, and Legendaries get their pick of the bunch, so if she's chosen to, ah, share his bed..." He trailed off. "I'm wondering why the Dark Continent hasn't had a few holes punched in it already."
 
Sexebi went deathly still.
 
Micah glanced sharply at her. "No."
 
Sexebi jerked out of it, looking at Micah in confusion. "Yes?"
 
"You don't know that Evangelion's involvement with Kerrik leads to the scenarios you've observed in the various probability timelines," Micah replied in a serious tone. "Unless you can find out that information quickly, worrying about it won't do you any good."
 
Sexebi swallowed. "Okay."
 
Micah nodded slowly. "I take it observing information like that is difficult."
 
Sexebi bit her lip. "Seeing people's... death, it... hurts. And it's uncertain. And... Yeah."
 
"Well." Micah glanced at the data card. "Have you watched it?"
 
"Evangelion let me see it."
 
Micah shrugged. "Then you can do whatever you feel like while I get a chance to watch it." He held the door open for Sexebi as they exited the conference room, only to have her follow him as he headed for his Sanctum Sanctorum. Letting the Legendary go first, Micah settled in the Sanctum, slotted the data card in, and toggled the message active while Sexebi sat down in one of his custom chairs, watching him.
 
I still can't believe he's blond, was Micah's first thought on seeing Kerrik's face pop up on screen with some non-descript room as a backdrop. Running a hand through his own blonde hair, he had to admit that it made for a scary coincidence.
 
On-screen, Kerrik took a breath, and then began. "Good day, Micah. As you can see by the mode of delivery, I did listen to your message even though Macavity was fortunately unavailable as a messenger. I wouldn't trust her to pour water out of a bucket with printed instructions and a trial run. Besides, I´ve recently heard she decided to play some games with you and I hope you ripped a bloody strip off her, preferably somewhere inside her brain stem."
 
Micah snorted faintly.
 
"How I arranged this delivery is a long story and best saved for another time, although the messenger may have already told you most of it."
 
"Sleeping with a Legendary from all hints," Micah muttered under his breath. "I'm sure there's a t-shirt for that." Sexebi giggled.
 
The video continued, Kerrik shifting and crossing his boots. "Since this should be secure, I don´t have to be circumspect, which is rather nice. I learned about your shenanigans after I was approached by Devon Harris with a recording of the conversation between you and Bevin. He´d tracked me down in the hopes that I was the kami Kerrik Wolf from New Beginnings and that I could find out what´s going on. When he found out I wasn´t he still showed me the message because he´s high enough in the Blue League food chain to know about the presence of the authors on this world."
 
"Crap." Micah toggled the video to pause. "Well, I wasn't expecting that. The idea of Devon Harris knowing of me doesn't exactly fill me with the warm and fuzzies."
 
Sexebi stirred. "Why's that?"
 
"Devon leads to Poppet, who leads to Shikarou and that particular brood." Micah considered his words and how best to put it. "Let's just say, they're not exactly people I'd be thrilled to share tea with."
 
"...oh."
 
"Quite." Micah toggled the pause on the video. Onscreen, Kerrik chuckled. "Hatsumi is just as impressive in real life as she seemed to me in my stories. It´s kind of scary to run across people that I imagined and see them as real and now have to wonder if I saw them or created them in my musings. But I digress."
 
Thank goodness that's one thing I don't have to deal with, Micah thought. Kind of.
 
"I am not a puppet of Sanctuary and I believe that you aren´t one either. I have it on good authority from my Dire Wolf that the fact that you have a Dire Wolf confirms we´re both as free as we can get, within the confines of the responsibilities we´ve accepted onto ourselves." Kerrik smiled. "No man is truly free, but if the burdens we bear are of our own choice we can sometimes bear them lightly."
 
Micah could only shake his head in agreement.
 
"I trust Scheherazade´s opinion and so I´ve decided to take the first step and trust you. After all, the truth is that we´re just playing a game of Prisoner´s Dilemma and I´ve decided to go with cooperate. I´m not ready for a face to face though. I suppose there´s no rational reason for avoiding it if I´m willing to trust you except I´m overly paranoid because of the responsibility to my ladies. If it were just me, I´d offer to buy the first round and take my chances."
 
Micah chuckled faintly. "You and me both."
 
"Right now I´m involved in setting up a convoluted plan to do enough damage to Sanctuary that they´ll rethink their fascination with people like me." In the video, Kerrik rubbed at his eyes. "Like you, things have changed for me on a personal level although most of the changes are internal as opposed to what has happened to you. Nice horns, by the bye. If you don´t mind I´ll skip the obvious series of stupid jokes about being horny. I do hope they came with some kind of magical power so you can defend yourself against the pokeboy hating crowd."
 
Micah had to toggle the video paused as he quietly facepalmed. "He didn't... He did. I knew there was something missing in my general social interactions. Mild heckling. There we go." Despite his words, he was smiling. A careful shake of his head, and he made the video continue.
 
"Like most people probably think, I am living somewhere in Blue. It´s a nice place and the girls are pretty. Oh, I met Linda McMahon after you ditched the Kite here. You really got her panties in a bunch over what you did in Capital. Good job. It´s funny that she´s a Sanctuary Goth and still thinks she can trust Sanctuary. I hope the wakeup doesn´t cost her too many loved ones.
 
"My ladies are very talented in their specialties and I think I have a fairly comprehensive picture of what your harem looks like, at least from the time that you were last near a pokegirl center. What we could find out includes Anya the Starmystic, Ludmilla the Dire Wolf, Cornelia the Demon-Goddess, Nunnally the Armsmistress, and Euphemia the unknown breed. A BOLO posted by the McMahon´s after Sadie Pokens also showed a picture of either a Lucarda pokekit or chibi." Kerrik shrugged. "You´ve never been into pedo, but you seem like the kind of person who wouldn´t toss a kid if she needed you, so I don´t know which it is."
 
Micah paused the video to rub at his nose. "Argh. Thank goodness, that's one complication that I haven't had to deal with."
 
Sexebi canted her head to the side. "What is?"
 
"A pokegirl with children," Micah replied. "That would make things... awkward at times."
 
"...you don't like children?"
 
Micah glanced over at Sexebi, shrugged. "I've never had to really interact with children before to any great lengths. So I never figured out how to do so. Though in this case, I'd be more worried about them being a combat target. I have enough non-coms to worry about as is." Shaking his head, he continued the video.
 
"Since I know something about your harem, I thought I´d reciprocate with information about my ladies. Eve is my Megami-sama, Dominique my Archmage, and Scheherazade is my Dire Wolf. There´s something special about Scheherazade, but I´ll explain that later. I also have a Duelist named April and a noncombatant Milktit named Hathor." Kerrik frowned. "I thought about not telling you about the last two, but if I don´t then it would look like I had something to hide when you do find out about them. I have a Sanctuary Goth named Irena and a Tyrannodame named Montsho in my harem, although needless to say the Blue League is not aware of their presence. I picked up Montsho in Africa and evolved Irena here in Blue. My tamer record only shows Eve, Dominique and Scheherazade, so I´m giving you something for free this time."
 
Micah whistled softly.
 
"This little adventure has been fascinating, exciting, horrible, terrifying, agonizing and just about any other adjective you can imagine. I got really lucky with the ladies that decided to twine their lives with mine, but sometimes," Kerrik abruptly broke off. "I´m babbling and I apologize for it, Micah. Even if we never meet, I hope you find a way that gives you and the people you love all the things you need and maybe some of the things you want. It´s scary, you know? We´re supposed to protect women and all we can do is hope they don´t die while protecting us. No matter how powerful I get, they will always throw themselves between me and danger and one day the odds will catch up with them." His eyes hardened and for an instant glowed sapphire. Micah quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "And for that reason alone I will kill everything that lives on the African continent if I have to in order to keep them safe. Eve doesn´t want me to take that on my karma, but this is my decision and I freely make it." Kerrik smiled wryly. "And back I go to the babbling. I´d rerecord this, but I don´t have a script and I haven´t said anything that I regret. Good luck, Micah, and if the opportunity does ever present itself, I will buy that first round for you and your ladies."
 
Micah re-watched the video in total several more times before leaning back in his seat, letting out a groan. "Yikes."
 
"Are you okay?"
 
Micah glanced over at Sexebi, and nodded. "I'm fine. Just tired." Rubbing at his face, he commented, "The video itself seems pretty straightforward. I suppose the nice thing about not having to worry about interception is none of this cloak and dagger crap, or speaking in riddles. Interesting that he's been to Africa." He chuckled faintly. "And has a Sanctuary Goth in his harem, albeit in a round-about manner. And a Tyrannodame. I wonder how he pulled that off." His expression soured as he let out a sigh. "Unfortunately, it means I'm going to have to be careful when I utilize some of my future options. The last thing I want to occur is to have an Author get caught in some of the fallout." He shivered faintly, knowing that idea was the stuff of nightmares. He stood. "Alright. Let's get my harem to watching this while I plan out how I'm going to respond."
 
Ludmilla and Euphemia went over the message several times while Micah got his own reply ready. Neither paid much attention until Micah lit a magical flame over a stick of red wax, letting it carefully drip down to seal a thick, heavy-duty envelop that Micah had earlier put a stack of bound papers within. "What are you doing?"
 
Micah glanced up from sealing the wax with an insignia that looked to be a circle quartered by a cross. "Kerrik seems to be upping the metaphorical ante by being honest and straightforward, so I figured I'd do similar. I'm sending him a gift; a copy of the dimensional portal spell."
 
Euphemia glanced up, brushing away her thick red hair from her face. "I thought he already had access to something like that?"
 
Micah shrugged. "Not exactly. He just said he could travel to a specific pokegirl world analogue, and offered to take me along with him whenever he went. For all I know, he knew of a location of a Sukebe cache that had a dimensional portal. That doesn't imply he has access to a spell that can do as such, and given that he's all but said he's a magic user... If nothing else, it'll give him something to pass along to other authors. I always intended to disseminate the spell as needed if I ever encountered them."
 
"How magnanimous of you," Ludmilla replied in a wry tone, tail wagging.
 
Micah gave a leathery shrug in reply.
 
"Do you want anyone here while you record the message?" Euphemia asked.
 
Micah hesitated briefly, saw Sexebi's pleading look, gave another shrug. "Feel free to stay here, but please don't interrupt. It'll be a challenge enough keeping my thoughts straight without any distractions."
 
Once everyone was situated, Micah glanced down at his outfit, which was positively plain whenever you compared it to what he wore the first time he did all this when conversing with Yuuki and Cologne. A dark, charcoal gray sweatshirt, woolen pants, and regular dark shoes. The entire thing likely did odd stuff to his color scheme, but Micah freely admitted that was the last thing he cared about most of the time. Ah, well. Settling in the chair cut to accommodate his unusual features, Micah toggled the record button.
 
He smiled as he began speaking. "Good evening, morning, or whatever time this message might find you, Kerrik. Thankfully, Macavity has stayed well away from me, and I'd be quite happy if I never saw her, period. Sexebi told me the exact how as she got a hold of this message to give to me, and from the way she remarked about things, it seemed to imply that Evangelion isn't just hanging around to raid your refrigerator." His smile deepened. "Assuming this is the case, I hope the two of you are enjoying yourselves, and that she's getting along wonderfully with all the other ladies in your life. If she's not..." Micah chuckled softly as he gave a leather shrug of his wings. "I can only chide her for not having good taste in man-flesh or something." Grinning, Micah rubbed at his pale, clean shaven face before continuing.
 
"Thanks for the 'horny' comment, by the way. Congratulations, that's the first comment of that type I've gotten. Thankfully, I haven't had to deal with hordes coming after me with torches and pitchforks, but I haven't exactly been interacting with people at large." A casual shrug, as Micah folded his hands across his stomach. "Thankfully, I'm a bit of an anti-social bastard, so it hasn't really affected me all that much. Hell, I pretty much stayed away from others even before I had my little..." He glanced at his own wings. "Incident.
 
"I'll confess, I'm a little surprised as to the method you discovered my current madness. I had actually considered going to Devon Harris to try and beg a ride over to more harmless climes for about, oh, five seconds, before common sense reasserted itself. I can only hope that Devon finally got out of that 'teenage asshole' years that all creatures go through in that span of time. Even if he has, I doubt a meeting between him and I would go over all that well, but, such is life."
 
Micah let out a gust of a breath and a soft laugh before going on. "Speaking of Capital and Linda, I do feel that I need to apologize for ditching the Kite in your backyard, so to speak. That entire scenario I went through at Sadie Pokens was meant to deal with another case of Sanctuary going after my ass, but, well, things got away from me, and... I had originally intended to dump the Kite in... what, the Ruby League? Edo? One of those. But considering the entire reason Linda and her brood were going after my ass was to effectively track down you to ask them not to kill them, pretty please, with sugar on top... Anyways. I suppose what they were fearing is that you had a set of wolf ears atop your head and were going to pop up shortly thereafter to discuss things in detail." Another gust of breath. "Considering by that point my own additions, I guess that's not too out there a worry. The reason I dumped the Kite in the Blue League was the hope that everyone involved would freak out at the idea of two
Authors cooperating together and what they could feasibly pull off. That would give me the cover to take care of a few things. I honestly didn't expect you to get involved in that, but, nothing's perfect."
 
"Now," Micah settled back in his seat, wings loosely spread around him. "By this point you're aware of the fact that I've been evolving other pokegirls into Sanctuary Goths. You know of Bevin; Cologne and Yuuki are my other two paying customers, so to speak. I won't give you an excuse for it," he grinned faintly, "But I do feel that I should you give you the reasons.
 
"The long and short of it is that I'm attempting to introduce Sanctuary Goths en masse outside the Dark Continent, with the eventual hope that they'll get infused into the overall breeding pool. The overarching point of this is to cure the ferality state. That, and from all the literature on the subject, Sanctuary Goths haven't really been breeding with humans any. With enough luck, give it three generations or so and we may see new bloodgifts in males popping up, or normal girls thresholding into Sanctuary Goths, or thresholding into pokegirls that now have the anti-feral trait that Sanctuary Goths have. As I've been forced to remark several times, if I was fully capable of it, I'd turn all the pokegirls on the planet into Sanctuary Goths. This typically comes up in conversations where I remark that I'm not a god." Micah rolled his eyes, his tone clearly exasperated. "I never thought I'd have a day where I'd have to defend myself from that label.
 
"I'm also making a horde of assumptions, as well; that the typical megalomania and grandiose superiority Sanctuary Goths exhibit is a trait of their society, and not the breed itself. If not..." Micah trailed off, and for a moment, his expression was haunted. He rubbed at his face. "If not, I suppose I'll have to take care of it, won't I? I'm not trying to change the world overall, but I can give enough people the right tools and a swift kick in the ass to punt them in the right direction.
 
"As far as Sanctuary learning about them; quite frankly, I had planned for that," Micah went on, resettling himself. "Either they'd accept it and resort to politicking regarding the matter, or they'd attempt a strike team to wipe them out and/or capture them. Both of which work to my advantage. Sanctuary still isn't ready to start a war, and if I can show clearly that this is how they treat their allies of over a century..." He trailed off, giving a shrug, as if talking about however many people getting killed wasn't a big deal. "And I'll note for your Megami-sama, Eve, that Cologne, Yuuki, and Bevin are all big girls, and it's not as if I forced them to accept my deal."
 
Micah reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. "What else, what else... Ah. Right. The method I'm utilizing to evolve pokegirls to Sanctuary Goths doesn't require an Infinity Stone to act as a direct catalyst, though I still require equipment to pull it off. Right now I'm researching a spell method to accomplish the same in a method similar to a Celestial Blessing, though it's taking longer than I had initially surmised. By the way, if you should ever visit Capital, please don't react negatively to any Sanctuary Goths you should encounter, as I've captured the majority of Sanctuary-aligned S-Goths from said League. I've evolved a number of pokegirls to Sanctuary Goths, some of which are still in that League for one reason or another. As much as I'd like to put McMahon and all his buddies through a wall and tan Linda's hide raw, I admit rather liking Capital for its relatively liberal treatment of pokegirls." A sigh. "Go figure. I've also been in contact with a group of Sanctuary Goths from Sanctuary itself who actually did some honest-to-god -work- to find me, and who don't agree with Sanctuary's policy at large. They're good kids, at heart, albeit a little clueless on how to start a revolution. I don't trust them completely, naturally, but they've helped me a little and I've done the same. I'm not sleeping with any of them, thank goodness, and if you're curious, no, they don't know that I know you."
 
Micah smiled. "And now we get to the most terrifying part; my current plans for the future. I think it's fair to say that we both have access to the Dark Continent. Congratulations on the Tyrannodame, by the way, and I hope she's happy interacting with you and yours." He took a deep breath. "I've already made the decision not to utilize tactics that would result in large swaths of the Dark Continent being rendered uninhabitable. Whether I'm taking the moral high ground or just being a blind fool, only time will tell. My long term plan involves the research of a method to wipe out Sanctuary's leadership in one magical strike."

Sexebi, having been silent for this long, couldn't help herself with the 'Eeep!' she let out.

Micah glanced off to the side with a wry look and a half-smile on his face. "That, however," Micah went on, refocusing on the recorder, "Is my endgame. My current plans involve the systematic depopulation of the various small towns located on the Dark Continent. The purpose of that is a mostly psychological ploy; I'll likely end up evolving all the captured pokegirls to Sanctuary Goths and releasing them whenever I leave this world through whatever methods." One wing shifted in a half-shrug. "Baby steps."
 
Micah glanced at the recording timer. "Cripes, this is taking a while." He gave a slow shake of his horned head. "A few more things, then I'll shut up. The Lucarda you know about; Illya is a Chibi-pokegirl, who effectively picked me at Sadie Pokens Day. Euphemia you mentioned; she's a G-splice, and along with Nunnally, there are a few oddities about their breed types that I'll go into later. I've also picked up a few other women that I'm sleeping with; Otsana, a rather cute Gunnm who's adjusting well enough to thresholding with some help from Ludmilla, my Dire Wolf, and a redheaded magic-using spitfire who claims her name is Lina Inverse, and that she's -perfectly human-." Micah's smile was positively angelic as he spread his hands toward the camera. "Who am I to argue otherwise?"
 
"As far as Nunnally and Euphemia go..." Micah's expression was somber as he absently rubbed his hands together. "I can't even begin to imagine what you've had to deal with, so I can't exactly blame you for rambling. I'm not..." He trailed off. "Crap, how to put this. I..." Micah closed his eyes. "Okay, one more time. I've pulled off some things in the past that are, quite frankly, a little disturbing whenever I examine them too closely." He opened his eyes, blue-on-black regarding the recorder seriously. "Euphemia is a specific G-Splice that existed only in my story notes. Nunnally evolved into a specific pokegirl breed I call the 'Arkhangelsk'. The problem is, it should have been impossible for Nunnally to evolve into said breed. Euphemia could be a co-incidence. Nunnally, not so much. The only common thread I can find between the two of them is me." Micah gave a bark of laughter that had a tinge of hysteria to it. "I've made a lot of jokes about Authors being the equivalent of nascent protogodlings, but if this really is the case I'd love if someone gave me an owner's manual to go along with the position!" A deep breath. "Putting that aside, the fact remains is that I've apparently been doing things without conscious decision or control. And that worries me. Something like that could very well come around to bite me on the ass. You haven't mentioned anything similar, so I thought I'd mention it. If it's just me, well... I'd probably feel a lot better, to be honest. But we'll have to see."
 
Micah lapsed in silence, rubbing at his forehead, thinking. "Ah. One more thing. You mentioned offering a chance to travel to Pokegirl One, or the closest equivalent thereof, when everything was settled. If you're anything like me," he flashed a grin, "You've probably got a healthy dose of pride, stubbornness, and dislike of having to accept other people's help. That said, I've got a lot of people to think about, and while I'll gleefully stay well away from Cuba and Texas, when the time comes, I'll gladly take your offer of transdimensional immigration.
 
"In that theme, I'm sending you along a gift." Micah smiled. "I can only ask that your ladies respect the privacy of my gift and only allow you to be the one to open it and let others read it. I don't know how useful it'll be for you, but if nothing else, feel free to pass a copy along to other authors you might encounter. It'll be in a folder, sealed with a wax stamping of a circle quartered by a cross. If you've ever read any Susan Cooper, you'll get the reference. As my hand writing is atrocious, I made sure to include a typed note saying what exactly the gift is."
 
Micah shook his head slowly. "I've talked enough. Goodbye and good luck, Kerrik. If you ever need help, don't be afraid to call me. And I'll make sure you're out of the blast radius before I do anything that'll be visible from orbit." Rather than drag the message out any further, Micah reached over and toggled the record function off.
 
"Whoof." Micah leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his face. "When did I get so busy?" Micah jerked when Ludmilla came up behind him and hugged his neck as if he had forgotten the three of them were there and present while he was recording, which in fact, he had. He also held himself still whenever Sexebi came over and did similar.
 
"Do you always worry about so many things?" Sexebi asked as she stepped away so Euphemia could get her hug in, as well.
 
"More," Micah replied in a wry tone, thinking that life really wasn't all that bad, sometimes.
 
Sexebi's concerned look then turned impish as she folded her hands together. "Can you make shirts for other people to wear?"
 
Micah blinked back. "I... suppose I can. In theory. Why do you ask?"
 
Sexebi giggled. "Because I thought up a t-shirt I'd like to give Evangelion, that's why. If you're giving Kerrik a gift, I should give Evangelion one, as well."
 
"I've got some free time to experiment," Micah replied, standing, Euphemia clinging onto his back between his wings as she kicked her feet up to let him carry her. "So let's see if I can't make Evangelion a gift, as well."
 
-[***]-
 
"Watcha' doing?"
 
Micah glanced up from his reading, papers spread in front of him like some controlled explosion at a paper factory. Off to the side was the Grimorum Astra, lording over the entire display as if was above it all - which, floating a few inches over the large desk, it was. Otsana was at the door, the Gunnm wearing an outfit that could be neatly described as 'naughty Catholic schoolgirl', with a plaid short skirt that didn't even pretend to be modest, white button up shirt tied up underneath her breasts. Micah didn't even pretend not to stare as his thoughts gleefully trailed off, mouth open as he gleefully drunk in the sight of Otsana suddenly turning shy.
 
"Do you like it?" She pivoted, twirling with a dancer´s grace that spun the skirt up to show that, no, she wasn't wearing anything under it.
 
Micah licked his lips. "You know," he replied in what he hoped was a conversational sort of tone, "I attended a Catholic school all my life, and I never really appreciated the particular fetish of a naughty schoolgirl. Until right this moment. Congratulations."
 
Otsana blushed, hands behind her back as she leaned against the door to his Sanctum Sanctorum.
 
Micah chuckled faintly. "As for the answer to your question, I'm going over architectural designs." He tapped the Grimorum lightly. "I adore this book, scattershot as the information herein it is. It includes an entire rambling section of the discussion of wizard lairs and sanctuaries for magic-users."
 
Otsana walked over, slipping into his lap to peer curiously at the Grimorum in interest. Micah slipped his arms around her bare midriff comfortably, causing her to squirm in his lap. "Why are you looking up such things?" She canted her head back, ruby-red eyes glancing at him curiously. "Does this have to do with the adventure you took Ludmilla and Illya on and haven't really talked much about beyond showing off to your Celestials?"
 
Micah glanced down at Otsana curiously, eyebrow arched. "'Showing off to my Celestials'?"
 
Otsana nodded. The petite Gunnm assumed a serious expression, her voice comically deep as she tried to imitate Micah's manner of speaking. "'Fear not, my cute Megami, for I have discovered a place that not even a Legendary will be able to enter without my permission!'"
 
Micah stared at Otsana, thoughts completely derailed. "That's... that's not what I said."
 
"It's what you -implied-," Otsana said, leaning against his chest. "Will it really be that safe?"
 
Micah frowned, trying to recall the conversation in particular to see if Otsana was correct of not, and became worried when he realized that, yes, it really did sound that bad. "More or less."
 
"Why aren't we living there already, if it's safer?"
 
Micah hesitated. "That's half the reason I'm going over all these designs that Euphemia gave me. The creature I assumed control over gives me a very powerful degree of control over the material within its boundaries, but I still need plans for what I want built. The other thing is..." He trailed off, loathe to put this particular set of misgivings to word.
 
Otsana blinked at him. "The other thing is?"
 
Micah didn't answer right away, instead leaning forward to bury his nose in the softness of Otsana's night-black hair, enjoying that particular delicious natural scent all women seemed to have combined with the fragrance of her shampoo. And beneath even that, was that sharp, tangy undertone, like the afterscent of lightening, or hot metal. "The other thing is," he said, his breath a hot thing amid her soft hair, "Is that I'm a little embarrassed at what it is exactly I'm capable of, now."
 
Otsana shivered faintly, gripping his hand in one of hers. "What's embarrassing about it?"
 
Micah gave a nervous chuckle. Whenever he tried to put it in better terms, if was as if words were so much water slipping through his fingers. "Is guess it is a little silly. Kind of like taking off your clothes in front of a girl for the first time. I suppose it'll get easier with practice." He smiled when Otsana giggled softly, and reached down to finger the hem of her skirt. "Speaking of clothes, any reason for this? I can't say I can complain, but it's not exactly normal for you."
 
Otsana visibly stiffened in his lap, then squirmed enough that she could bury her face in his chest, hand gripping his shirt hand enough he was afraid the fabric would rip. "I just wanted something different, that's all!"
 
Ah. "Something different enough that would set you apart from all the memories surging around in your brain?"
 
Otsana's grip shook hard enough that the fabric of his shirt did tear. "SHE'S NOT ME!" she yelled, voice cracking before jerking back and swallowing nervously. "She's not me," she repeated in a whisper.
 
"No, she's not," Micah said, reaching out to lightly tap Otsana's forehead. "The memories inside your head are a -tool-. And a powerful one at that."
 
"I know," Otsana whispered. "But they're just so -powerful-. I find myself crying and it hurts, and some of the nightmares..." She leaned forward and huddled against him, her form a small and fragile thing against him. "The only time I feel safe is around you."
 
"Hmm," Micah regarded Otsana thoughtfully.
 
Otsana glanced up at him with a pleading look.
 
"We're going to have to intensify your training regime," Micah replied. Among other things. It was possible that a Delta Bond could act as a stabilizing influence, but all the spell research he'd been looking into so far had garnered plenty of results. Just none that he wanted.
 
"Are you going to start training me in magic?"
 
Micah quirked an eyebrow. "I might not be the best teacher, as I'm still learning myself." He smiled faintly at Otsana's crestfallen look, as the Gunnm had probably wanted to use it as an excuse to spend more time with him. Definitely a new situation he wasn't used too. "But I can give you a mental exercise to consider."
 
Otsana immediately perked back up.
 
"I'm not certain how the schools at the Scarlet League teach it, but this is the best conception I've discovered so far," Micah said. Cupping his hands in front of them both, a lick of black flame manifested. "All magic, is power. And all power is change." He gripped a fist, and snuffed the flame out. "Think on that."
 
Otsana frowned thoughtfully, then nodded solemnly. "I will."
 
-[***]-
 
Micah regarded his assembled harem, Lina and Sexebi included. Given the amount of time the Legendary seemed to like hanging around, he couldn't really think of any way of not including her in this. "It's come to my attention that I haven't really elaborated on what my latest acquisition really means," Micah spoke up, voice carrying to fill the cafeteria where they took their meals. "Or what I'm capable of doing with it. So I thought I might change that."
 
Anya nodded thoughtfully. "We'll have to teleport to the Capital League then, won't we?"
 
"Not exactly," Micah replied. He raised a hand and pointed at a spot in mid-air, fingers splayed outward. A point in space several feet away from his hand abruptly turned liquid black, then dilated outward, rapidly growing into a two dimensional, liquid black portal that rippled organically before settling into a placid state. Once it was finished, the entire thing was wide enough that Micah could have entered with his wings loosely spread. He smiled brightly. "There."
Stepping forward, he let a hand sink into the liquid, earning a sound of exclamation from his harem at large, and a customary 'Eeep!' from Sexebi.
 
He grinned over his shoulder. "Am I going to need to hold anyone's hand?"
 
Lina audibly growled, the petite redhead launching herself off the table she had been sitting on. "Like hell!" Putting word to action, she promptly headed through the portal at a run, the surface rippling with her passage.
 
Micah let the majority of his harem go first. The last was Sexebi, who glanced at the portal nervously, then at Micah, and raised her arms to him. "Up."
 
Micah blinked. "Up?"
 
Sexebi nodded, bouncing lightly on her feet, arms still raised. "Up."
 
Micah shook his head and picked the Legendary up into his arms, trying to ignore how small she was, or the fact that, per her customary habit, she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. The portal was a cool presence as it slid over him, swallowing him and Sexebi up only to deposit them both along with his harem.
 
Illya glanced at Micah as he put Sexebi back down. They were all situated in a small clearing, surrounded by thick, old-growth forest. The weather was bright, clear, and pleasant, a stark contrast to the claustrophobic fog and ash that Illya, Micah, and Ludmilla had all gone through the first time. "You did this, Master?"
 
"I did indeed," Micah replied. "Atmospheric and weather control is a nice thing when you've got your hand on the thermostat, so to speak."
 
"Boring," Lina declared. "I thought you said there was a town here."
 
"There was," Micah replied. "I already disassembled it for raw material."
 
There was a pause as his harem digested that.
 
Micah smiled. "Let's take a walk."
 
"It's pretty," Sexebi opined, twirling around to take the area in.
 
"It's incredible the changes you've already made to it," Ludmilla noted from Micah's side. She shook her head slowly, wolf ears flicking. "No pokegirl could ever create something like this."
 
"You think so?" Micah replied in a half-absent tone. "The Dreamara and Dreamanda could likely do similar, and the Mimicas can also, to a degree."
 
Sexebi literally jumped up in surprise, wings spread, as she regarded Micah with wide eyes in shock. "How do you know about those pokegirls? They've been extinct for a very long time!"
 
Micah chuckled faintly. "Kerrik wrote about them."
 
"Oh? Oh," Sexebi blinked. "Oh."
 
Micah laughed. "Quite."
 
"Exactly how bad was it?" Anya asked, glancing back and forth between Micah and Ludmilla.
 
Green eyes met bright gold. "Would you like to see?" Ludmilla asked quietly in an undertone that made the hairs on Anya's neck stand up.
 
The StarMystic visibly shivered. "No, I think I'll pass."
 
Micah lightly bumped against Ludmilla as they walked, his voice lightly chiding. "Be nice."
 
Ludmilla's only reaction was the flick her ears at Micah.
 
If there was a destination to their walking, it wasn't clear, but Micah didn't hesitate in the path he chose. He only stopped whenever they finally arrived at another clearing, this one much larger than the first they had arrived in.
 
Micah swung his head around, checking that the space requirements were what he wanted. "Good."
 
"Good for what?" Lina complained, hands behind her head.
 
Micah quirked a glance at the redhead, then put his hands in his pockets, closing his eyes, and let out a deep breath.
 
The clearing detonated upward in a spray of dirt, dust, and mud in a flurry of activity as mass and materials shifted and rearranged itself at high speeds in a massive, seething cacophony. Glass, brick, stone, mortar and metal all groaned and compressed as it came together before the astonished eyes of Micah's harem, fusing together with a golden glow that marked where the Devourer's abilities were busily active. Even as the massive house finished its apparent construction, another explosion of mud and dirt marked the beginning of a smaller, second house, offset at a forward 45 degree angle from the first one.
 
The golden glow of construction finished, but Micah wasn't done. The ground beneath him began to shift and move as it forcefully re-arranged the landscape to suit his purposes, trees shifting and rustling as they were effectively made to crawl forward into the ideal positions to act as a natural eye-break for the two houses. Only when that was finished did Micah open his eyes, letting out a slow breath to survey his work.
 
"Okay, question answered," Lina let out in a high-pitched squeak.
 
Micah chuckled faintly, grinning. "Let's go take a look at our new house, shall we?"
 
Anya and Otsana lead the charge inside. The entire house was a two-story affair with tall ceilings, a brick and mortar facade with large, open windows staggered at regular intervals for easy internal lighting. Its basic structure was square arranged on the compass points with an interior courtyard with a large eating area, gazebo and water garden. Only the side arms and north area of the square had interior windows to look in on the courtyard; the south had none, making it an intimate and private area away from any guests that might stop buy. The north and west sides contained the bedrooms on the first floor; the east was devoted to kitchen, dining room, and relaxation areas. The south was the foyer and guest parlors. The second floor was devoted to gaming, a library, storage, and workrooms. The entire house was done in stone, brick, and wood, with wrought iron railings.
 
"This is amazing," Cornelia said, her one good eye wide as she stared at Micah.
 
Micah smiled faintly. "Euphemia helped."
 
"What's the second house for?" Nunnally inquired, absently brushing back strands of silver hair over one shoulder.
 
"Guest house," Micah replied. "Unless you want the Megami and visiting Sanctuary Goths to sleep -here-?"
 
"No!" While not in sync, that word came out of several mouths in various tones.
 
Micah grinned. "And my point is thus proven."
 
"How do you plan to move all our equipment here?" Euphemia asked.
 
"I can make stabilized gates for transportation," Micah replied. "In addition, I can selectively allow teleportation entrance to the distortion area. Which, in the long run, will be pretty nice."
 
Ludmilla shook her head slowly. "So we'll be confined to the Capital League? A small price to pay, I suppose, for something so valuable."
 
Micah grinned wickedly. "Oh? Did I ever say that?" He sobered, shaking his head. "Once we've secured an island for Blueberry and her brood, I'll begin shifting the distortion area to our new home." He glanced skyward. "If the distortion area simply disappears, it'll be better than if Department H notices a straight-out change. An assault would be... annoying. And the farther I'm away from Linda McMahon, the better."
 
Sexebi looked faintly sad. "Do you hate her that much?"
 
Micah blinked, glancing down at the diminutive Legendary. "Hate? Hell no. But she's a Sanctuary Goth masquerading as an Archmage, and while I may think her actions monumentally -stupid- half the time, it would be stupid of -me- to assume she's a flat-out idiot. A skilled enough mage -can- breach the distortion area, among other things." He smirked, and reached out to tousle Sexebi's light-green hair. "Thankfully for me, one of the most powerful magical Legendaries in this universe is currently suffering from the world's worst case of jet lag."
 
Sexebi blushed hard enough she looked like she was going to pass out.
 
Micah smiled. "Now," he stretched out his wings behind him, absently working out some kinks, "I want to construct the living town for the Grim Angels. Once I'm done with that, we'll begin deploying them and shifting supplies from the Alpha and Beta sites." He glanced over at Euphemia. "The main house isn't finished, just so you know. We'll have to do some work to get your power systems integrated and running."
 
Euphemia smiled. "Thank you."
 
Micah clapped his hands together. "Good. Now, ladies, feel free to relax while I take care of this. Or, if you like, come along to watch, though it might get pretty boring. And, just FYI, I'll be assigning rooms. The last thing I want is to have the lot of you fighting over who gets what."
 
-[***]-
 
Warm salt-sea air caressed Micah's wings as he surveyed the map Wendi had assembled for him, and for a moment it grabbed his attention, a sudden urge to -fly- surging upward for the forefront. He ruthlessly suppressed it, dragging his attention back to the tactical information Wendi has so nicely provided him.
 
Not that he could assume that it was accurate, of course. And there was always the notion that some of it was intentionally... misleading.
 
Ugly thought. Nasty thought. However unlikely it was. No, if Wendi and Udiya wanted to betray him, there were far more straightforward and immediately lethal ways they could accomplish such a thing.
 
Which didn't, of course, rule out just straight up fear and potential stupidity.
 
"You've done this before, haven't you," Udiya stated, her tone unreadable.
 
Micah glanced up at the Sanctuary Goth, letting Euphemia and Ludmilla correlate fact and information, marking out potential logistics and hashing together a list of 'where to hit first'. "I don't believe me and mine have operated on the Dark Continent up to this point, no."
 
A controlled sigh. "That's not what I meant." Arms folded, the Blessed S-Goth regarded Micah with... well, he wasn't sure -what- that expression was. Sadness? Fear? Maybe a little bit of both. "Anyone affiliated with the council would deny it. And most Sanctuary Goths would, as well. But as soon as people couldn't get in contact with some of their friends... it got bad. You did that, didn't you?"
 
Micah smiled faintly. "Quite possibly."
 
Udiya didn't smile in return. Off to her side, Wendi was watching her with an expression that made it clear the Chibi S-Goth was flat out confused as to where Udiya was going with this. "What did you do with them?" Still going over the map, Ludmilla's ears twitched in Udiya's direction.
 
"You ask that question as if you expect me to have utilized their warm bodies to satiate my unholy and sadistic lusts," Micah replied.
 
"Did you?"
 
Micah snorted. "No."
 
"So where are they?"
 
"Udiya," Micah replied, "There's this marvelous concept called 'trust'. And the idea that you're better off not knowing. I haven't exactly lined my mantles with the skulls of Sanctuary Goths. When the time is right, I'll make every effort to see them returned and out of my hair."
 
Udiya regarded him, arms folded. "And you're planning to do similar with all those townspeople you'll capture?"
 
"With any luck, yes," Micah replied, trying to keep his temper under control. He could see Udiya's point, in a way. Every tamer she had to deal with at one point or another likely had heavenly aspirations toward becoming a Master Tamer, and those exalted types typically had access to personal pokegirls in the hundreds. The idea that someone could resist the temptation of such a smorgasbord of sexual delights and variety... well.
 
Not that Micah wouldn't deny that the notion of a hundred naked, gorgeous women tied up and bent over for his at-will sampling wasn't -tempting-, but the gulf between idle fantasy and reality was wide, indeed.
 
Still, you'd think the fact that he'd kept far, far away from the rebel Sanctuary Goth group despite some rather overt offers would make a statement. Apparently not.
 
"Micah!" The person in question blinked at the unexpected voice, looking over at the entrance to Wendi's workroom to see Sam walk in, the Drag King evolved Sanctuary Goth smiling at him. There was a definite shift in Sam's overall appearance - a slight lengthening of her hair from its mannish cut to give it a softer, more tousled look, though you'd have to double-check to make sure the person you were looking at was female still. Micah had to admit; she looked pretty good, to him, if no one else. And the smile, showing that she had thrown of a host of burdens, helped her attractiveness.
 
Micah tried not to obviously stiffen as she came over and hugged him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and prayed he didn't look awkward as he returned the unexpected contact. "Good afternoon, Sam. Nice to see you've taken some of my advice. Having fun?"
 
Sam chuckled. "Tons of it. Bernadette's here, too. She and Jericho were talking, last I saw." She glanced over at the map, ignoring Udiya and Wendi's expressions. "Having a planning session for a taming expedition?"
 
"In an extremely broad sense, I suppose you could call it that," Micah replied, a part of his brain wondering how he could unobtrusively maneuver back over to Ludmilla. Sam wasn't backing away from him - if he wanted to, he could easily entrap her in his wings.
 
Sam chuckled. "Are you going to be free any time before you head back into the wilderness?"
 
"Not particularly," Micah frowned. "My schedule is pretty full up with more things than you'd believe. Why, do you need any help with anything?"
 
Sam waved it off. "It's nothing important. I thought I'd invite you out to dinner in this nice place in Capital, if you had the time for it."
 
Son of a bitch, Micah thought. Aloud, he said instead, "That might not be a wise idea." He waggled his fingers at Sam, claws extended. "Capital knows of me, and I can't exactly hide my appearance. Dinner gets rather awkward whenever a troop of Officer Jennies shows up to arrest you."
 
Sam smiled. "I'll look for places outside Capital, and we'll see."
 
"Quite," Micah replied, trying not to panic. Euphemia had stopped her perusal of the map, her expression confused as it flitted between Micah and Ludmilla's decidedly non-reaction.
 
"If you're done flirting," Wendi spoke up, "I've got some information for Micah that you're better off not knowing about."
 
Sam smiled, and waved at Micah in parting. "Good luck," she said, even as she left.
 
Udiya's expression was unreadable. "I think any advice I'd offer at this point would be worse than useless." Her lips quirked in a small smile. "Good luck," she said in a half-mocking tone, following Sam out.
 
Wendi glared at Udiya's retreating back. "Okay," she said, once they were gone, and handed Micah a large folder filled with clippings, printouts, and pictures. "If you want... your Sanctuary Goths operating inside the Dark Continent, I think the best way would be for them to act as if they belong to the special forces operating for the Ministry of Science."
 
Micah absently flipped through the folder, putting the earlier conversation behind him. "You talk as if there are other options."
 
Wendi nodded. "Another option would be to masquerade as a team for the DCWS." She hesitated, then went on. "Though I wouldn't suggest it. There'd be a host of problems to pull it off, the least of which is identification and command structure."
 
Micah frowned, setting the folder aside as he carefully leaned against the table. "So what's the advantage of working for the Ministry of Science?"
 
Wendi rubbed at her face. "You know, I didn't know about half of this stuff until you asked me to look it up."
 
Micah visibly stiffened. "You didn't put yourself at risk, did you?"
 
Wendi waved his concern off. "I'm a mage. That's important, and I'll get to it in a minute. The Ministry of Science Division is technically in charge of all research, procurement, and development of Lost Tech, Forbidden Tech, and Sukebe-origin devices. Technically. The reality is that a lot of Councilor's fight over the matter, so it gets pretty confusing. The benefit, though, is that the MoSD is known for being rather... odd, because the Sanctuary Goths involved are not only often scientists sophisticated enough to know about Lost and Forbidden  Tech, but mages, as well, to help in investigations." Wendi smiled. "Which is how I know so much about them."
 
"So what's the benefit compared to a team for the DCWS?" Micah asked.
 
"Besides identification? Firepower. DCWS teams are typically Sanctuary Goths with Dameosaurs and their evolutions as support. The MoSD is far more eclectic. Including pure Sanctuary Goth teams who pride themselves on their magical ability to combat any threat they might face." Wendi glanced at the floor, her gaze distant. "Groups like that... the polite word some would use is 'eccentric'. Sanctuary Goth society always seemed to react badly to that idea, and I never really could guess why, until now."
 
"Which is?" Ludmilla asked, ears perked.
 
Wendi was silent; Ludmilla was about to ask the question a second time, when she finally replied, "If you talked to a lot of Sanctuary Goths in the Dark Continent, some of them hold to the idea that they aren't pokegirls. That they aren't really humans. That they're something else entirely. Something better. And I think being able to fight against pokegirls reminds them of... where they came from."
 
"Interesting," Micah noted thoughtfully. He tapped the folder lying on the table. "So you're thinking of having the Grim Angels masquerading as a black operations team."
 
Wendi nodded. "Basically. You said they utilize weapons, but, well..." A shrug of her small shoulders. "Like I said, eccentric."
 
"So if a group of Sanctuary Goths looking really, willing, and horrible requisition of crèche of Tyrannodames for matters best left unknown," Micah trailed off.
 
"No one will really think twice about it. If you manage it well, no one will -want- to think twice about it," Wendi agreed. "The idea is that if they're doing something wrong, someone higher up will catch them. And if they're doing something -right-, then you don't want to get punished."
 
"Ah," Micah said aloud. "Corruption. It's a glorious thing. Wendi, your help is a wonderful thing, and I thank you for it."
 
"You're welcome," Wendi replied in a dry tone, even as she smiled.
 
-[***]-
 
The interior courtyard of the house was just large enough, by design, to get lost in if you truly wanted too. Not that Micah was trying to hide, settled in one of his special chairs, but there was something nice about enjoying the sight and sound of water rushing over rocks. A spring gurgled up from a rock formation to feed a small pond that then ran in a miniature waterfall into a larger one. If asked, Micah would easily admit that the entire setup was in direct mimicry of another water garden he'd always been fond of as a child.
 
He absently reached up to rub at his neck, claws pricking at skin, as he stifled a groan. The pain and exhaustion he felt was entirely psychosomatic. The wonders of having your training regime managed by a Dire Wolf. Even worse, a Dire Wolf wholly concerned with your personal safety. And once Ludmilla realized that he could teleport, she'd been running him through a host of mental exercises alongside memory transfer of both magical -and- psychics means as a way of settling his ability alongside a clear-cut case of 'this is what you should do'. All of which was likely for the best; after all, it wouldn't do to have an accident like -that-. Which meant he swallowed his irritation, grabbed some patience, and went along with Ludmilla's training regime, whether he liked it or not.
 
Brilliant white caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes. His immediate thought was of Nunnally, but when he focused he saw that wasn't the case. Rachel and Yvonne both were in the courtyard, heading in his general direction.
 
"Good morning, Micah," Yvonne spoke up once they were in conversation range. "You look to be having a pleasant morning."
 
Micah chuckled ruefully. "It's all an act, I assure you. How are you both settling in?"
 
Yvonne smiled. "The accommodations are marvelous. I know you likely don't want me around any, but thank you anyway for letting me stay here to rest."
 
Micah shook his head. "It's no trouble. I feel responsible as is for what happened to you - letting you have the time to rest and recuperate is the least I can do." He glanced at Rachel. "And you?"
 
Rachel hesitated, and Yvonne spoke before she could. "That's part of what we came over here for. Do you mind if we sit?"
 
"By all means, do so," Micah replied. "Would you like some chairs to sit in?"
 
"No need," Yvonne replied, settling her dress around her as she sat in a clear area. Rachel, her wings still present, settled on a nearby rock large enough to hold her and others besides. Once she was comfortable, Yvonne looked up at Micah, and asked, "Do you really think that your research will pay off? To let you evolve anyone you care to into a Sanctuary Goth, just with a spell?"
 
"I think it's possible," Micah settled back. "So I like to think there's some hope. Why do you ask?"
 
"Esther and I have been talking, so I was curious," Yvonne replied.
 
Micah smiled. "I wouldn't be keeping them here at a whim or a fool's errand."
 
"I know."
 
Silence. Micah resisted the urge to scratch the curved edge of one of his horns. "You mentioned there was something you needed to discuss?"
 
"Would you mind terribly if I stayed in the main house with you and your harem?" Rachel asked.
 
Micah blinked, leaning forward in concern. "Why? Is there a problem with the guest house?"
 
"It's not so much a problem with the house itself as the guests residing there," Yvonne spoke up.
 
Shit. "What, exactly," Micah picked his words carefully, as if stepping through a minefield, "Have they been doing to Rachel?"
 
"They don't need to do anything," Yvonne replied. "Micah, I know your situation is... odd. So I can't guess what kind of education you've had, if any." She spread her hands wide. "Pokegirls are social creatures. There are very few breeds that can realistically exist in a solitary existence, and Celestials are no exception. And because Rachel defended you to Esther, Esther is still the effective Alpha of that group. Whenever Rachel went against Esther's decision, she was put outside Esther's harem group. All because, I'll note, she wanted to help you."
 
Micah purposefully kept his tone even. "I see. And what, exactly, would you suggest that I do to solve the problem?"
 
Yvonne smiled faintly, some of that impish humor he'd noted the first time he ever saw her during Sadie Pokens returning to the fore. "Well, one option is that you bend Esther over a table and fuck her brains out."
 
Rachel choked and turned beet red where she sat, while Micah just stared at Yvonne.
 
Yvonne grinned. "Did I use the archaic terminology correctly? That is the way it's used, yes? 'Fuck her brains out'?"
 
"Yes, you got it right," Micah reached up to rub his forehead. "And how did you come to that conclusion?"
 
Yvonne smiled. "Because Megamis are odd. Well, we are," she said to Rachel's odd look. "Powerful, disparately skilled - honestly, if it weren't for our common threads, get a group of Megamis together and you'd likely first guess they're all a bunch of different pokegirls. Some Megamis are leaders, and some Megamis are followers. Esther is very much a follower."
 
Micah absently wished he could summon up food, as he'd adore a stiff drink right about then. "And my other options?"
 
"Take Rachel into your harem, of course. Why don't you?"
 
"Because that's not very fair to Rachel, for one." Micah glanced at the Angel in question. "But if you're not happy here, Rachel, then I'll do everything I can to find you a place to be happy with. If you want, I can even evolve you into a Sanctuary Goth."
 
"No," Rachel said firmly. "Micah, I meant what I said the first time we met. You could have done horrible things to me and Esther and all of them. That you didn't means you're a good person. Are you so afraid of having a Celestial in your harem?"
 
"Rachel, I'm going to have to kill a large number of people before all is said and done with," Micah replied, trying to keep his tone even and not let some of the harshness come to the fore. "Can you live with that? Can you?"
 
Rachel blushed, and glanced downward. "I don't know." A deep breath. "But it likely won't be any worse than what it was like under my other tamer. He killed sometimes. And sometimes he enjoyed it. A lot." She looked up at Micah. "And I know you're nothing like him. And I still think you need protecting."
 
Rachel and Yvonne both paled slightly and drew back. Micah tried to think of -why- they were doing that, until he finally realized that the deep, seismic rumble/growl was coming from -him-. "Shit," he blurted, and reached up to rub at his face with both hands.
 
"Are you alright?" This, from Rachel.
 
Micah let out a bark of a laugh. "Quite frankly? No." He sucked in a deep breath. "But I'll deal." He regarded the Angel with his blue on black eyes. "Rachel, I think you're a gorgeous woman and deserve a hell of a lot better than me. That said, would you mind if I not give an answer right now? I need to let some things settle in my mind, first."
 
Rachel nodded slowly, standing, wings spread. "Thank you."
 
Yvonne stood, brushing her dress off and letting out a soft chuckle. She went over, and placed a motherly kiss atop Micah's head, leaving him blinking in confusion. "You're a good person, Micah. Never forget that."
 
"I think you're all insane," Micah murmurs softly to Yvonne and Rachel's retreating back. He glanced around at his private spot, and shook his head. "And now that my mental equilibrium is shot to hell... no, best not make any excuses," he murmured to himself. Standing, he headed out of the courtyard at a brisk pace toward his bedroom.
 
Rank hath its privilege, so his bedroom was easily the largest in the house, though a part of it was just sensible; after all, he was the one who was having others sleep with him every night, so he needed the extra room. The bed itself was in its own alcove, and he'd setup a little sitting area with a couch and chairs off next to some shelving. An open door next to the bed alcove was the entrance to the bathroom complete with shower and a bathtub large enough to swim in. A windowed alcove held a large table for reading, work, or research.
 
Micah had given serious consideration to making the entrance to his Sanctum Sanctorum hidden. If he was living by himself, he might do just that. But given he had his harem to consider, he decided that just going for a set of double-doors that had an entire wall to themselves would be the easiest for everyone in the long run. The double-doors opened up into a stone circular stairwell wide enough that Micah could descend it easily without tucking in his wings. He enjoyed the freedom as he followed the stairwell down; glowing crystals inset the wall every so often to allow for illumination, the double-doors swinging shut behind him.
 
The stairwell ended at another set of double-doors. He pulled these inward, stepping into a massive octagonal room that looked organically carved with rock. Alcoves were set at seven sides; some of them had optically hidden passages to other rooms. Large tables were set at six of the eight sides for research and work; the top, seventh side, opposite the main door, had a large desk with a chair cut to fit Micah. The entire room was lit by indirect lighting, either coming from flooring insets or reflection off the domed ceiling.
 
Micah settled at the desk with a grateful sigh, already feeling more at ease. This was someplace made to accommodate him, personally, rather than feeling like he was the constant bull amid the china shop. It was... it was nice.
 
After several minutes of carefully controlling his breathing, Micah focused himself inwardly, and carefully, as if teasing a thread loose amid a snarl of tangles, recalled what Ludmilla had done to him so long ago. Gently and gently, there...
 
Discontinuity.
 
A deep, deep darkness. Micah was only dimly aware of movement as his reality slowly resolved into that endless, fathomless plane. He gingerly came to a rest, hexagonal lines of energy standing out where his feet came in contact with the surface he was standing on.
 
"So this is what it's like inside my mind," he mused aloud, glancing curiously every which way. He didn't expect to encounter Toymaker again, but you never knew...
 
After a while, Micah finally discarded the possibility of any other surprises surging up from the Lovecraftian recesses of his brain. "Now, so I don't get off track..." He focused, and an ideogram sprang into existence of what he hoped was his breath and heartbeat count. The last thing he wanted was to loose track of time while stuck inside his own brain.
 
With that done, he knelt down to begin investigation of the only feature he could find; the floor itself. Peering close, Micah laid a hand on one hexagon. Frowning, a sensation coming to the fore like a pressure in the back of his brain, he pushed down.
 
The hexagon pulsed with energy, then began to rise, slowly, causing Micah to back away cautiously. Once it resolved itself into a hexagonal pillar as high as Micah was tall, it began to unfold like a blossoming chrysanthemum, ideograms and icons spawning merrily at the end of each of those open sections.
 
"Well. This is unexpected." Micah frowned, and reached out with a claw to gently tap one icon.
 
The endless black plain deformed into the sterile white and glass hallways that Micah recalled instantly as belonging to his high school. He let out a dismissive snort at the empty hallways. "Please," he muttered. "And here I had thought I had purposefully forgotten memories of this thrice-forsaken place..." His voice trailed off when he noticed a figure at the end of a hallway, a black form that only hinted at a human figure, face obscured by a black hood. The hallway around it seemed to distort and shake even as the figure took a step toward Micah.
 
"Hahahaha no." Micah flicked out a dismissive finger and the memory dissolved around him, sterile white walls and ominous spectre all going back neatly into their concise mental package.
 
"Lovely." Micah eyed the unfolded pillar, then glanced at the endless plain, and sighed. "This is clearly going to take longer than I thought to produce anything worthwhile."
 
-[***]-
 
Moan drifted with the high wind of the sky, eyes closed, her psychic abilities giving her just enough buoyancy that she wasn't a feather in the wind - but it was a close enough thing, letting random chance take her where it will.
 
She honestly did adore this, letting herself lull into a peaceful stupor as she contemplated things. Quiet, alone - truly one of the best things in life, in Moan's opinion.
 
Well, next to hot, sweaty sex, of course.
 
Her placid face creased into a slight frown as she felt rather than saw something fly past her, lobbed from the ground. A random feral? She caught the missile in the grip of her telekinesis, eyes open in curiosity as wondered what exactly had been tossed her way.
 
The tomato hung in front of her confused eyes, and she had the perfect tickle of a mental warning to flit to the side and watch a second one fly by.
 
Upside down now, relative to the ground, Moan looked, and blinked as she saw Macavity on the ground, the cat-like Legendary wearing a massive grin on her face as she waved gaily at Moan. Even as she waved, Macavity hefted another tomato from the rather large basket of them she had sitting next to her.
 
Moan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly, Macavity was either in a mood or wanted to talk to her. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Moan teleported down to reappear in front of Macavity. "Good morning, Macavity. You make odd social calls."
 
Macavity's grin was broad enough to split her face. "Heyyyyyyyyyy, Moan. It got your attention, didn't it?" She tossed the tomato back in the basket. "You wouldn't happen to be able to get in contact with Whore-oh, would you?"
 
Moan blinked. "You went to all this trouble just so you could talk to Whore-oh? Why?" The psychic Legendary's eyes narrowed in faint suspicion. She couldn't sense any danger, but... "I thought you didn't like her, much?"
 
"Hey, it's not my fault the prissy bitch didn't like my live demonstration of the Kama Sutra," folding her arms under her breasts, Macavity looked vaguely sullen. "I went to all that effort... anyways. No, I kinda... well, I wanted to ask you both some questions, and hey, I'm a busy girl, so I thought to kill two
pokegirls with one tomato."
 
Moan regarded Macavity for a long moment, while Macavity tried to look as innocent as possible. Moan finally let out a faint sigh. As much as it pained to admit, Macavity's style, chaotic as it was, was typically more subtle than this when she was in one of her moods. Moan focused, reaching out to contact Whore-oh. After a minute or so of mental communication, Moan nodded. "She'll be here in a moment."
 
It didn't take long before Whore-oh descended from the sky, the sun glistening off her myriad shades of gold that made up the Bird-type Legendaries' coloration. "Moan." After a second or two of visible struggle, Whore-oh finally managed out, "And hello, Macavity."
 
"Heeyyyyyyy, Whore-oh." Macavity grinned. "Still haven't taken up my suggestion regarding anal sex?"
 
Whore-oh glared, wings shifting as if she was about to lift off again, and Moan sighed faintly.
 
"Okay, okay, serious time, its serious time," Macavity held up her hands as if surrendering. "I couldn't resist... So, uh, have either of you seen Sexebi around lately?"
 
That drew confused blinks and a mutual glance between the other two Legendaries. "No," Moan said slowly, as if unsure where this conversation was going, while Whore-oh agreed with her in a firm shake of her head. "Why?"
 
"Wellllll," Macavity visibly fidgeted. "I was going through Hild's underwear drawer..."
 
Whore-oh couldn't help herself as she found herself asking in a morbid tone of horrified fascination, "Why were you going through Hild's underwear drawer?"
 
Macavity shrugged, her leather outfit creaking. "Hey, if you could rummage through her panties, wouldn't you?"
 
Whore-oh's mouth opened, and she found she had no reply to that.
 
"AN-y-way," Macavity went on, "I was going through them when I noticed that miss high and mighty magical prissy girl hadn't come around to make her irritation known. So I looked around." Macavity now wore the most serious expression either of the two had ever seen her assume. "I can't find Hild. Anywhere. And honestly? That scares me a little. Because, quite frankly? I -am- that good."
 
"Maybe she finally managed to kill herself doing something stupid," Whore-oh whispered, and flinched away at Moan's disapproving look. "Don't look at me like that! You know what Hild's like."
 
"Yes, I do," Moan nodded. "And I'm sorry, Macavity. But I don't see how this has anything to do with us."
 
Macavity rolled her eyes. "All-seeing, all-powerful psychic... yeesh, how do they say it in the Blue League? All mouth and trousers. Okay, -fine-. Didn't either of you hear about Sexebi deciding to pick herself up a new boy-toy in the form of Mister 'Tweaks McMahon Off In His Spare Time' Hakubi?"
 
"What are you talking about?" Whore-oh said, confused.
 
Macavity blinked. "You mean she didn't -tell- you?" Macavity let out a string of high-pitched giggles. "Oh-hoh! Guess she didn't want to share."
 
Whore-oh looked faintly disturbed and even Moan looked concerned. "Sexebi is my friend," Whore-oh replied. "Of course she'd tell me."
 
"Whatever," Macavity replied. "Apparently she -didn't-. Here's the deal; me, Bastit, Sexmet, and Hild were all having a big pow-wow cause this Micah guy is running around with a bunch of Sanctuary Goths-"
 
"What!?" Whore-oh blurted, and Moan frowned.
 
"Don't interrupt," Macavity pointed a finger at Whore-oh. "A bunch of Sanctuary Goths, and I thought to meself, 'Gee, wouldn't all those lovelies just ache to know about this?' Hence, the pow-wow. So we get all together in our wonderful fashion, and then Sexebi shows up, says hands off, and more or less threatens to kill Hild if she -doesn't-."
 
Silence. "Sexebi," Whore-oh swallowed. "Sexebi would never do something like that."
 
Macavity shrugged. "Don't believe me? Ask Shiva." That caused Moan and Whore-oh both to rock back on their heels. The idea of Shiva collaborating with Macavity on anything was flat-out impossible. "But, y'know. It's a little -weird- how Sexebi would be acting all like that. A little out of character, dontcha think? Not that I'd -suggest- anything, and I'm sure we've all got our... -ideas- on the matter, but do we -really- know what these guys can do?"
 
"I can't find Sexebi," Moan said aloud, her tone musing. "It's not the first time, but..." Moan glanced at Whore-oh. "Shall we put aside our differences for a while and see about talking with our friend?"
 
Whore-oh nodded slowly, her wings rustling behind her. "I think so. Do you want me to go look for Sexebi?"
 
"No," Moan replied, and glanced at Macavity, who was grinning. "I think we should go talk with Shiva. I want to know what Macavity didn't tell us." Macavity's grin didn't falter, which only worried Moan even further. Either she was very confident in what tale she was spinning... or she was telling the truth.
 
"Bai-bai!" Macavity waved, as the other two Legendaries teleported away.
 
-[***]-

[A/N]  If any more Legendaries show up, I swear, I'm going to shoot something.  Argh.