chapter 9: if it ain't broke, break it.


ocoa gagged, "d-damn... two readings... one, involves wind. the other-" he gagged again, "tastes like blood and silver! yuch!"

terry looked over at him, "we want the wind one. i'll look into the other afterwards."

"right. this way then." ocoa tried to spit out the foul taste and led them deeper into the city. the group consisted of himself, kimono pristine blue once again, still on cloud nine after his rendezvous with sable; terry, toting his new sword with a fond look on his face, although his breath was still ragged, he had insisted on moving immediately.; ember, following terry just because she could; and marcus, his guns were melted but he couldn't have been happier, as they were from corsica and therefore a mark of servitude.

they traveled slower than usual, by road, as terry couldn't afford to waste his remaining energy 'flying' accross the rooftops. after nearly two hours, ocoa called a halt in the seediest section of the city, in front of a condemned warehouse. "wind man is in here, you ready?" he asked, terry nodded and dropped the tip of his sword into the asphalt, he revved the handle, and the sword hummed in reply. with a smirk, he hefted it up and twirled it over his head into a downward strike, just before it hit the door of the warehouse, he gripped the lever with two fingers and pulled it. the hum grew to a roar and several jets of compressed air shot from the back, forcing the blade downward twice as hard. the door crumpled in on itself, like so much wet paper, and he looked down at the sword in his hand, grinning from ear to ear, "this was well worth the wait!" he heaved it back onto his shoulder, and pressed forward, his limp now very pronounced.

the warehouse was completely open, two support columns being the only things in sight, save for a desk near the other end. lounging, feet up on the desk was a human figure, apparently sound asleep, a stetson over it's face.

"don darrius." terry stated, there was no question of identity, for who but a leader of the criminal underworld would chose such a hideout.

"don?" the voice beneath the stetson was weary, but indignant, "please, don't use that title. it's demeaning."

"you havn't sent a single agent against me. why?" terry asked.

a hand came up and tilted the hat up, beneath was the face of a forty something year old woman, "i knew you'd ask me that. truth is, i wanted to ask a boon of you."

"name it."

the woman tugged an object from her boot and tossed it to terry, "swear to plant this in corsica's eye and i'll die happy."

he held it up to the light, revealing a very dark gray knife with a wicked cutting edge.

"that's solid lead..." ocoa murmered, intrigued.

"what's to stop you from doing it?" terry fixed darrius with a stare.

"age, huge army... lots of stuff... the whole reason i joined the trismagia was to kill him... and i've waisted fifteen years trying. no doubt you wonder why a woman would have the name darrius. well, it was my husband's. corsica killed him for no other reason than being in his way."

terry sighed, "boon granted, one knife to the eye."

darrius smiled just so, and terry could almost see the woman that she must have been all those years ago. then she reached into her other boot, pulled out a derringer, and cocked the hammer. "good luck basilisk, you're gonna need all the luck you can get just to face him even once..." and with not another word, she placed the gun between her lips and pulled the trigger.

terry's eyes smoldered red and he pressed his right arm against his sword until it drew blood, and on the wall behind darrius' corpse he scrawled:
'the deed is done. YOU'RE NEXT!'

beneath it he drew rough sketch of a snake biting it's own tail, then turned on his heel, and left.

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ocoa gagged as he caught wind of the other meta signature, of blood and silver. he shivered like a dog shaking off water and then took off, calling back, "this way!"

about twenty minutes later the small group convened in front of a closed hotel and ocoa made a face, "well.... this is unexpect... hmmmm, down...?" he muttered for a minute, walking up and down the block, glancing here and there. "underground i believe, and it's quite strong too. this definitely bears investigating."

terry slogged forward, looking quite despondent, and suddenly snarled slamming a heavy booted foot into the door. "DAMNIT!" he shouted, kicking inward at point blank range and the door crumpled in on itself balling up, red sparks dancing around the impact mark.

marcus's eyes widened, "thats impossible..." he whispered. terry revved killer queen and stormed in. the supposedly 'closed' building was nearly devoid of dust or any sign of age, meaning that it was very recently occupied, but he took no notice, instead he revved the massive blade even more and with a roar heaved the sword over his head, and pulled the lever, the sword's own weight, combined with terry's ungodly strength slammed into and then through the floor. he landed with a loud bang, amidst a gaggle of about five middle aged men in lab coats. they stood shocked, staring at him and he rasped, "do you work for corsica?"

one of the men, stupidly, replied, "why yes we-"
he never got any further, as terry revved his sword and the scene erupted into an explosion of blood.

by the time the others managed to get down to that floor he was in another room completely. ocoa glanced about, letting out a low whistle, "whoa...looks like a slushie machine had an orgasm... hey... is that an arm?"
ember looked aghast, and quickly pressed forward, into a hallway that split off into three other rooms. in one, terry stood,blood soaked and hunched forward, his sword forgotten on the ground beside him, in his hands was a mask of polished stainless steel, in the shape of the bottom half of a skull. his eyes were unfocused and he muttered in rapid german, at some distant memory. then slowly he tapped the side of the mask and it split right up the middle. he pulled his hair to the side and slid it on, tapping the side to close it again. he turned around and ember, standing in the doorway, drew back in fear.

"terry?" she whispered, and he looked up, his eyes were sad but gray once more.
he tapped the side, making it slide back and reveal his face, "ja? ma petite, was ist?"
"what is that?"
"something long forgotten, but it is mine, i remember wearing it, but i can't remember where... or why."

"YO! MAAAAKO!" marcus's shout was muffled by distance but it's urgency was obvious.
terry grabbed his sword and rushed toward the sound, where marcus stood with a near dumbfounded look.

"i thought this was only done in those really bad scifi movies..." he said and then began laughing hysterically. the object of his humor was a cylandrical glass container, big enough to house several people, but currently holding just one, a figure of about thirteen years whose hair was short, spiky and... silver!
she slammed a fist into the glass, but it was useless, the stuff was obviously bulletproof (judging by it's thickness) finally ticked off even more she bit into her hand spraying blood over the glass, but instead of red, it too was silver! her blood wriggled acting almost of its own accord, and then formed words, 'get me out' quickly wriggling into, 'please'.

terry shouldered marcus aside, and blew on the glass, fogging it. he raked a fingertip over it, scrawling, 'stand back'. and then looked over at ember, she nodded and inhaled until her chest swelled and then opened her mouth releasing a sonic shockwave that shook a blur of sparks from marcus and made terry's eyes fill to red. the glass though, shattered into pieces which themselves shattered into shiny dust.

"bravo." terry rasped, and the figure stumbled forwards into his arms, "and who might you be?"

her blood flew into the air wriggling into words again 'je-' it started and quickly shifted suddenly to 'argent'.

"wise choice..." he whispered.

ocoa then toddled out of the last room bearing a steaming styrofoam cup of coffee, and gasped, "what did i miss this time?!"

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"hmmmm. thats how it is eh?" kin was atop the building accross the street peering down through a pair of binoculars." he wore a black suede shirt, with black tight jeans (not tight tight, but tight enough to make his diaper obvious) and black wingtip shoes. upon his wrist was a silver bracelet, with two small red circles on it... his unruly red hair whipped about in the light wind, and suddenly he whipped the binoculars to the left, "oh, shit!"


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the group, now numbering five left the hotel, and a loud scream sounded from above followed by a tall form in a black trench coat and pinstriped fedora. it's face was obscured by white, chalky paint done up to look like a skull. the body gyrated as if pulled by a mad puppeteer, and indeed... it was.

"allo bazzy, guess who!"

"go screw yourself, i'm not fighting another marionette."

"and why not, this one absolutely hates you, and thats without my help." with that, the figure grinned and stopped gyrating. "i hate it when he does that, god.... such a crick in the..." it pulled a sword form inside it's coat and the air roared like a thousand angry hornets.

ocoa shouted, "meta! some sort of...... for now let's say sword demigod, eh?" terry nodded and they both lept forward through the storm. terry managed to snag the other's blade and ocoa went for the kill, whipping his katana out hard. it hit, but the other laughed, and pushed them both back with a flick of it's sword.

"name's boogeyman, nice ta meetcha, fuckboy!" he targeted terry, who revved killer queen and swung it in a series of brutal arcs, each one met by boogeyman's sword. suddenly, from the wall of the building behind boogeyman a new figure sprang, grabbing boogeyman's arms and screaming, "NOW GIRL DO IT!" ember got the message and released another sonic wave. boogeyman fell to his knees, and the figure dashed to the side.
"nice shot." he grinned at her and she laughed, "you're that guy from school." he nodded, "yup, m'names kin."

boogeyman made to stand back up, but terry whipped killer queen in a harsh quarter arc, causing a loud roar, not unlike a jet engine passing by, to slam into him, driving him into the wall.

"that's a blunt drive, don't make me use the pointy end." he suddenly stooped over coughing uncontrollably, blood spilling from his lips. then, without warning boogeyman was pinned up against the wall again, six hefty throwing knives planted in his torso and arms. "bad dog, heel." the speaker was a glaring sixteen year old, ski goggles covering his eyes and greasy black hair dangling past his shoulders, his attire was mortuary black, from his gloves down to his boots. he whipped another set of knives from his belt and eyed boogeyman.

after a moment terry caught his breath gasping out, "who are you?"

the boy sheathed his knives and made to turn on his heel, "Deadman... will."

"you with corsica?" terry asked, stifling another cough.

"damn kingpin wannabe, think's he's a force of nature with those powers," he sneered, "...waitaminnit, you think I?... OOOOOHH DAMN YOU!" he swirled around and ran at terry grabbing him by the collar and heaving him up. "you damn metas, i just saved a hell of a lot of time by taking him out for you, you asshole! what the fuck makes you think i work for corsica!?"

terry's irises began to bleed over, turning the whites of his eyes red, as he rasped an answer, "well, you can't blame me for asking."

"correction, i can and do. i'm rather tired of you wannabes duking it out...," he sighed, "you have all the luck, you know?" he released terry, and began to walk away, "get your ass back to school tomorrow, the teachers are beginning to worry."

as he walked away he removed his goggles and his eyes were sad, and he whispered, "they really do have all the luck..."

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as terry and the rest of the group rested momentarily, will pressed on. and the wind picked up again, asserting that winter really was on it's way.

he was lost in thought, wondering what the hell had made him try to help basilisk, when the man so irritated him. in the end he would chalk it up to a 'fluke of nature'. at the moment though, he was so lost in thought that he didn't notice he had company until it was too late.

-click- the cocking of a hammer rang out, followed by, "money, now!" the speaker was a twitchy male of twenty something years, bearing the nervous tic of a druggie devoid of his fix. behind him were two others of similar constitutions, both bearing piercings in some rather 'odd' places. will cursed under his breath, sure that his bad luck had once again caught up to him. "i ssssaid money NOW!" the druggie poked will in the shoulder with the pistol's muzzle. there was a hint of a smirk as will said, "do it ya pansy, you'll be doing me a favor."

and so he did, pulling the trigger several times, and yet still will stood, and then he leered forward, a scowl on his face, "sorry bub, ya can't kill what's already DEAD!"

the other two took off at that, and the druggie stuttered, "m-m-met-ta?"

at which will backhanded him across the face and whipped out a knife, pointing it a fraction away from the man's eye, "who the fuck says i hafta be a meta? hmmm? you need to listen, you an' everybody else, i'm dead. D-E-A-D. but i'm still human, not some homo superior supremacist, just human. and a bit more durable than anyone else i know." right about that moment the man caught sight of where the bullets had entered will's body... and although the wounds were large, there was almost no blood!

he screamed, "don't drink mah blood man!"

"i did not say vampire... oh what the hell," he backhanded him again, "lay off the crack, JACKASS!"

he stalked off again muttering to himself, "how the hell am i supposed to fix this, that was my best sweater... damn thugs... awww to hell with, maybe basilisk will take care of 'em. saves me time either..."

after some time he came to a small housing development, and continued in, skirting around the two story section until he came to an off white bungalow. his demeanor instantly changed, as he dropped his goggles around his neck and pulled his hair back behind his ears. after some tugging he managed to cover the bullet holes in his sweater, after all, home life was already hell without them knowing what he was...


after much yelling and insults had been recieved, will slunk into his small room. spartan in the extreme, it contained only a bed, his clothes, a few knives, and about five books so yellowed with age that their covers were nearly indecipherable. he tossed off his sweater and shirt to get a better look at his wounds. five gaping holes ranged from his shoulder down to his ribs, the edges were ragged, and he knew from experience that it would be the next day before they would even begin to heal, and would take about a week and a half after that. with a quick gasp he rammed a finger into one of the holes and tugged out a small bullet, "i thought there'd be one left," he whispered, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he tried to focus the pain elsewhere.

will really was dead and had been so since he was about thirteen. he'd never really known what had brought about the change but he had his suspicions. the reason his blood didn't seem to flow was because his heart did not beat and the prospect of this absolutely terrified him. so when he was called a meta, it touched a nerve, some deep seated envy, because they all had powers and oh so perfect lives, while HE was playing the part of a servant. as far as he was concerned, his only power was that he couldn't be killed by any conventional means, short of total decapitation.

he opened his eyes, dark forest green, and looked himself over. his body was a wreck, just barely in shape, his legs were muscular from much walking, and from waist up he was banged up, knife marks here and there, from the occasional streetfight (these had become a hobby recently.), these new gunshots weren't his first, and he was sure they wouldn't be his last. after that there were cigarette burns down his arms as home punishment for some imagined crime. he growled low in his throat as he thought of their treatment of him, why, the house wouldn't stand for more than a day without him, all the chores were his to do, while the four of them (two parents and two younger siblings) lazed about or spent the nights partying elsewhere. this left him with very little free time, which of course, was spent on the streets (this wasn't counting his part-time job). he turned off the light and fell into his bed gritting his teeth in answer to his pain, and soon passed out.

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-back to the present-

'so, who are all you people?' argent's blood squiggled in the air breaking the tension.

"kommen und herren, marcus vivaldi wyngarde, at your service," marcus bowed low, causing argent to blush and giggle. (at the name wyngarde, terry gave him a dirty look)

"ocoa, sworn swordhand of this and that. oh, and the demon guillotine." ocoa flashed a devil-may-care grin, chuckling.

"kin, sometimes called mephisto II." kin saluted, clicking his heels together.

"ember. i don't have a hero name yet tho. i'm bouncing the idea of siren or orpheus." she shrugged.

"boogeyman... i don't think i have a birthname," boogeyman muttered, still pinned to the wall like an obscene moth.

terry coughed into his fist and straigtened up, his voice was very hoarse, "terry makoto, basilisk, currently the heavy hitter of the small offensive force against corsica."

'basilisk? i've heard that name. you're the catalyst.'

"what? cata... huh?"

'you seriously don't remember? it's your blood lining those vials!'

terry fell on his rear with a squish, his eyes flickering seeing images from the past, blood filled vials lined up on a wall; a grinning, giggling, leering face ramming something hard wet and sticky into his bound, prone body again and again;"house of the rising sun"; a ragged hunting knife digging into his chest with all the finesse of a butcher.; "not even fit to make a gear, kill him!"; the noose, the barbed wire noose cutting into his throat, hanging him, killing him, his life ebbing away, vying with the burning agony in his left leg; and then, as all seemed lost, a voice telling him "devil of the red-grey eyes, others may die, but you can not, will not, not as long as that man, still, lives."

he flickered upright, his mask sliding shut and his entire body danced with livid red sparks, coursing down his body, twining through his hair. everyone immediately stepped back, and as they did, the asphalt for fifteen feet around him shattered, spiderwebbing cracks everywhere. he turned, fixing argent with an unholy blood red stare, and spoke in harsh, hoarse german (author's note: just about all german from this point on will be translated to english, my gutter deutsch only goes so far.)

<"my thanks, argent silverblood, now i have all the more reason to kill the bastard.">

marcus translated for everyone, and argent squiggled her blood into words again, 'what do you mean?'

<"rape. and thanks to you, now i remember that fucker's face.">

marcus balked as he translated, staring at terry, and everyone gasped as he finished.

"t-terry?" ember walked up to him. and the sparks dancing over his skin subsided automatically with no sign or gasp showing that he was conciosly controlling it, and his eyes very slowly drained back to grey.

"well, there's a mystery solved..." terry whispered

"what do you mean?" ember was confused

"you're the reason i keep coming back, time after time. it's you, you're the miracle i asked for all those years ago." he hugged her, a happy tear falling down his cheek, "i love you ember." she kissed him, "and I, you terry."


after some time, terry looked up and said, "we'll finish the job soon, but i need to heal first, otherwise it's a suicide mission. besides, i think ol' cory can stand to be nervous a while."


kin retrned home, saying he'd meet up with them at school the next day and ocoa, after thinking it over for a few minutes, drifted off towards sable's penthouse with a dreamy look on his face. argent had been somewhat confused by the recent events and since she had nowhere else, ember offered to take her home with them, to which argent gratefully agreed. boogeyman was left hanging on the wall.
there were several reports of jimmy buffet's 'cheeseburger in paradise' being sung loudly and a little bit off key, from that wall later that night...

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the group, now four once more, had slowly made their way back to the winter's apartment. once they were inside, terry collapsed, his diaper making a very obvious squish against his bottom. which made raevyn redden as she heard it. nikole quickly had him out of his pants, and was shocked at how wet he was, "terry, you may need to start wearing two or something. the seat of your pants is soaked."

"what?! that can't be i... oh yeah...," even caught by suprise, his voice was rough. nikole untaped it and dried him off, adding lotion and eliciting a deep scarlet blush as he became erect. nikole didn't push the issue but instead taped him up and gestured to ember to lay down and be changed too. she wasn't nearly as wet, but was a little messy from seeing the canage that terry had wrought in the basement of the hotel. there was also a little blood, which nikole had expected eventually.(she made a mental note that she could save money on 'feminine supplies' by doing exacly as ember was doing.) once she was done, nikole looked up at argent and asked, "you want one too?"

she shrugged, unsure. to which nikole gestured for her to sit, and remove her pants. argent had been dressed in sweats, frayed and patched around the joints, worn by several 'subjects' before her. she pulled these off and revealed that her captors hadn't even had the decency to provide her with underwear. nikole quickly taped one on her snugly and argent went wide eyed, standing up to get a look at herself. her face crinkled in a broad grin, and she hugged nikole. no words were necessary, and speaking just wasn't argent's thing.

nikole then looked up at marcus, who chuckled, "i'm fine, not wet enough to warrant a changing yet."

"okay, everybody wait here. i have something for you." she went to her room and came back with an armful of clothing. handing one to ember she said, "this is based on your father's, and ...he was the reason for my change of heart. you two are so alike." ember unfolded it to reveal a black leather jacket, of about thigh length. it bore straps just ander the armpits, at the wrists, and at the neck. across the chest was a symbol that, when the jacket was closed, formed a silver harp.

"meine gott. orpheus! du vati wast orpheus!" terry had unconciously said this in german, such was his amazement. the twins looked at eachother, then at ember and back at eachother again, not getting it.

ember was dumbstruck, she new the legends but... the man she could barely remember and he'd been... a legend, an unbelieveable fighter, a hopeless romantic, and unfortunately a tragic hero, he'd died trying to save the city, BUT he'd been her father.

"well, i guess i've found my name after all: i am orpheus the second!" she pulled it on, and reaching into the pocket pulled out a pair of thin black sunglasses. she put them on as well and nikole just stared, because ember bore more than just a passing resemblance to her father...

after a few minutes, she handed terry his, he unfolded it to reveal what he thought was a white longcoat and a low cut black tanktop, but pulling it on he discovered that instead of just splitting up the back it split up the sides too, to allow for movement. it cinched around the waist with a belt-buckle bearing the symbol of a snake biting it's own tail. the sleeves ended midway down his upper arm but started agin in black, going down to the wrist, the right side ended in a sewed in knuckle glove. the tanktop made sure that his barbed-wire scars were in plain view, and reaching back he felt a hood as well. he pulled it up, and then took his mask and claws from around the handle of killer queen where he'd had them sitting, and pulled them on as well. heaving the massive sword onto his shoulder, he cut an impressive figure and he laughed, hoarsely stating, "it's like, i'm the new reaper, ya jealous?"

then she handed marcus his, swirling it over his shoulders he found it to be a new lime green longcoat made, oddly enough, out of denim. the shoulders and chest bore yet a third symbol, a stylized M underneath a four pointed star. nikole had even added leather holsters in the back for any guns marcus might find.

marcus chuckled again and then, "all for one, and one for all."

"catch your pants before they fall." terry finished and pantsed him, exposing a diaper that was wetter and messier than he'd led them to believe.

the apartment was filled with laughter long into the night.

everything louder than everything else pt. 1

HISTORY LESSON

two hundred and fifty years ago, mankind was troubled and warring constantly. but the wars ceased with the development of a new technology that gave free energy to all, it was adequately dubbed as magic. magic gave the groups capable of using it (called metahumans, or SEEDS) the ability to wield the very elements themselves, and so, all old world technolgy was shut down and forgotten. within a few short years, science and magic were used to create a race of super soldiers, made from average metas, dubbed GEARS after the project that created them. gears were immune to the effects of time and possessed powers that far surpassed their mortal counterparts, they also bore a BRAND on their foreheads, identifying them as gears.
three scientists ran the project, their names: frederick, justice, and _____ (henceforth called that-man).
frederick and justice were lovers, and soon bore a child, but that-man (not out of jealousy, but out of something else.) subjected all three to horrendous tortures, and made them into gears, just to test a theory. justice was driven totally insane and took command of all the gears, vowing to crush humanity into oblivion. frederick was horrified by what he had become, and tried to find a cure. but what of their child? dead from the experiment. or so they thought...

the impending threat of justice threw the world into a tailspin and soon all countries were sending warriors and SEEDS to fight the gears. a 'holy order' soon rose up to take command of the masses. the incident became known as 'the crusades', and would last for a hundred years...

eventually, frederick sealed his other side, and began to develop a weapon that could destroy the gears. he called it the outrage, but it was not one but eight weapons, called jinki, embodying eight seperate elements. these were given to the holy order.

near the end of the crusades a wild haired bounty hunter named sol joined the holy order, and took possession of the flame jinki, fuuenken (fireseal). it was he who eventually struck down justice permanently. he then took his leave, taking fuuenken with him. at all times, the man wore a crimson headband...

eventually, sol came accross frederick and justice's daughter, in a tournament that was specifically designed to kill her. he won the honor of destroying the gear, but instead spared her life.

within the next few decades, all magic technology was hidden or destroyed, and the old ways brought back. the world returned to a semblance of normalcy.

but then, metahumans began to appear all over, specifically in cities where magic had once been prominent...

what remains now? only legends, and quite a lot of meta humans.

but what of the gears? justice's last words were rumored to be: "my body may die, but the gears will not, not as long as that man... still... lives."

and what of sol? rumor has it that even now a wild haired bounty hunter with an oddly shaped sword is currently in residence in japan. just ask ocoa.

chapter 10: come on, come on, there'll be no turning back, you were only killing time and it'll kill you right back

-the next day-

terry and ember got ready for school, both dressing totally out of character, in capris and t-shirts that ember had found in the back of her closet. terry's shirt had a low cut neck though, making his scars very obvious. terry had taken nikole's advice and was wearing two diapers, the inner one slit so that it would catch any overflow, making his pants quite bulgy around the middle. his hair was also pulled back into a ponytail, having grown out just past waist length, but a few stray strands on the left hung over his eyes. ember wore only one diaper, but had set it so that the lip stuck out several inches above her belt line, she had also put on the sunglasses making her look quite dashing. they looked at eachother and then burst out laughing.

marcus and argent had decided to sneak in with them and pose as students that day. why? only they knew.
marcus left off his coat and wore the blue jeans and black turtle-neck that he always wore underneath it, adding his sunglasses, and slicking his shaggy hair back, he was totally unrecognizable as himself. argent borrowed a pair of jeans and dressed in much the same manner as terry and ember. as all four were diapered, mischief was sure to be had that day...

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"whoa! who is that!" several times this was asked as they walked down the halls, marcus in the lead, posing like a movie star. eventually he was cornered by a group of girls who just had to know.

he eased on a light german accent, and said, "kugashira, bunji kugashira. now who doesn't have a date for this evening?" terry fell against the lockers and laughed so hard it brought tears to his eyes, "showoff.." he laughed.

argent, silent as usual, had walked into the breakdancer's clique. she tilted her head to the side, looked at one of them and wriggled an eyebrow, at which, a contest ensued. argent ended up winning, and did a victory moonwalk, making the observers applaud.

then the whole hallway got really quiet as people began to notice terry, and specifically what his shirt no longer hid. someone spoke up, "daaamn, bro! how long you had those?"

"mmmm, three.. four years, i lost count." he rasped.

someone else asked, "we're going to die aren't we?"

"hell no, corsica's the only one getting a beating."

there was a concerted sigh and people began to ask questions of him, like why the basilisk wore diapers.
"that ones easy, i like 'em. aaand one of the fights i got in while i was gone, the guy tore me up pretty good, i don't really have any control over it." as if in emphasis, there was an audible hiss from his pants. there were several offers for changes, which he graciously denied.

or why he fought with such odd weaponry, "a very close friend makes them, i suppose you could say it's advertisement. their name is izumi by the way." that turned a few heads.

or the best yet, why did he look like a girl, "eh heh, it's genetics i guess, the biology teacher can answer that better than i can."

and the final, 'bre, what happened to your voice?', "i think it's shock and a small cold, i could be wrong though." ember hugged him and asked if she could make it better, to which he replied with a grin, "you already have."


first and second block passed quickly and they found themselves in english class. mr. phil was somewhat subdued that day, given to mumbling and nervous twitching. every now and then his hand would throw off a cyan spark, making him even more jumpy. so when the class ended he quickly left the room, mumbling about going to the teacher's lounge.

as soon as terry entered the gym for fourth a shinai nearly took off his head. "'lo diaper-boy, you an' I got a match to finish!" tai's sword hovered around his throat, even so, it took a moment for him to notice the scars. to which he merely chuckled and said, "i thought so."
the class all sat and watched the proceedings, which were garuanteed to be spectacular.

terry picked up the shinai, and held it backward, slowly shaking his head, "are you ready?"

tai opened his mouth to make a witty remark when terry rasped out, "volcanic viper!", knocking tai into the air with an uppercut. he flickered upward, following and slashed outward, "sidewinder!"
tai hit the ground with a thud and just barely blocked terry who had somersaulted into an axe kick yelling, "bandit revolver!" a tiny crimson spark danced across terry's arm as he asked, "good enough yet or do you want some more?"

tai punched the air, laughing out loud, "boy you just made my whole damn week! bring it on!"

"JACK HOUND!" tai was knocked off his feet but terry flickered as soon as he hit him, and appeared behind him whipping his shinai into another strike, "JACK HOUND RETURN!" he slid to a stop, a wisp of smoke curling from his sword. he pointed his sword straight and dashed, flickering his legs, "storm VIPER!" tai caught the blow with the tip of his shinai, roaring with laughter, "MORE BOY, COME ON!"

"if you insist... bandit bringer!" he combined the axe kick with a downslash, which tai knocked aside. "riot stomp!" fifteen consecutive blinding kicks, each one landing with a thud. tai dropped to one knee, still grinning, "perfect. no less than i'd expect from the basilisk. but thanks for holding back.... oy, i think you bruised me ribs."

the audience broke into thunderous applause, some for terry and his over the top takedowns, and some for tai and his incredible resilience. marcus was nowhere to be found, but argent and ember clapped the loudest, totally enamored by terry.


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"now, you know better than that, on your stomach, grovel!" corsica was in his late thirties, but his dark brown hair was still ungrayed, his face still unmarred by the passage of time. if nothing else he looked twenty at the least, but his appearance was the exact opposite of his personality, devious, monstrous, and given to disgustingly perverse whims. at the moment he stood over a teenaged male, nude and bound at his hands and feet. "i said grovel, or i'll make you wish you your mother had never spawned you."

the other muttered something and spit at him, and corsica slammed a foot into him, beginning to giggle a horrendous maddening giggle. he unzipped his pants and within minutes the entire room was filled with the unfortunate man's screams.

once he'd had his way with him, corsica pulled a knife from his pocket and slit the man's throat, letting the body drop, and yet, he was still unsated, his member erect and throbbing. he walked over and pressed a button on the wall, "send in a whore will you?"

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as terry and ember entered fifth period shinji gave them a look, a puzzled one.
"i thought you were into anonymity?"

"i think it may be easier this way, besides, it's funny as hell!"
"yeah, who'd've thought that the basilisk would be a high-schooler in diapers. things that make you go brrrrrr..." he chuckled and boogied to the front of the room, calling role.

in the far back sat a surly young man, dressed in mortuary black, a pair of ski goggles around his neck. he looked radically different from the will they had seen before, he looked proud and distant, his hair pulled into a tight jet ponytail, and his glare ever present. a pair of slightly bent glasses rested on his nose, making him look older. he glanced over at terry, rolling his eyes.


after class terry walked into the bathroom, planning to use the mirror to check the condition of his diaper. will was already in front of the mirror, shirt off, grimacing at the still unhealing bullet holes in his shoulder. terry spoke up, "those won't heal unless their stitched up."

"can't afford a doctor."

"who said anything about a doctor? i've been carrying this around ever since that mess with freed," terry held up a surgical stitching kit, the same one marcus had put him back together with.

will raised an eyebrow, "i feel this is the point where i should make a 'being prepared' joke. nothing comes to mind though. so, you any good with one of those?"

in answer, terry rolled up his shirt, showing numerous faded stitch marks accross his abdomen, "all but one of these i had to do myself. and hey, it's free."

"f-fine, just do it quick."

"you may want to put one of these on, because getting pulled back together hurts more than being torn open." terry held out one of his diapers and will snorted, "you're kidding right?"

"i'm afraid not. it's either that or you piss yourself from the pain."

will took it and went into a stall. The sound of tapes being undone echoed for a moment and then a zipper, and he stepped back out. the bulge was almost unnoticeable, underneath all the black he wore. terry locked the door and began threading the needle.

will pressed himself against the wall and terry went to work. the first two weren't so bad, a small prick and then a tight feeling, and that was it. after that, he gritted his teeth and his fingers left shallow furrows in the wall. not a sound escaped his lips, but he did wet himself profusely. terry tied off the last one, "three minutes, that has to be a record." he undid his pants, checking himself in the mirror, seeing he was wet but okay for now, and pulling them back up, turned to will, "you may want to go into a stall and wait a few minutes or else there may be rumors later..."

"o-okay... ummm terry, right? c-can i have another one of those?" terry chuckled and handed him three more diapers, "will that do?"

"i was all set to hate you before... but y-you're too nice."

"i don't mind having a foil, it keeps things interesting, and we're both working toward a similar goal right?" terry smiled.

"right," will smiled, sadly but a smile nontheless, "thank you."

"anytime, gespenter will." (gespenter roughly means 'deathmarch' or 'deadman'.)he did a two finger salute and left the bathroom. then he turned around and said, "if you can, meet me in two days at leons old hideout, top floor. we need a battle plan."
"i'll do what i can." will replied, and ducked into a stall. terry opened the door and left, "what took so long?" ember asked. and terry replied, "just fixing a problem. we have another possible ally now." she nodded, and hugged him.

before they left, terry went to shinji and gave him the same message as will, because they could really use his input.

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nikole had taken the twins and gone out to run errands, leaving a note on the kitchen table.

by the time they got home, terry was soaked, his inner diaper bulging and his outer one a bright yellow. ember took him to her room, leaving the other two in the living room. (marcus was covered in several lipstick kisses and looked slightly punch drunk.)

she had him lay down and untaped his diapers, he was erect beneath, and ember asked, "is this a turn-on for you?"
he stuttered, trying to deny it, and ember smiled at him, "it is for me too."

she placed the front back over him, and made to rub, but he grabbed her wrist lightly, "please don't."

"hmm?"

"i don't want to see you as a sex object, i appreciate the thought but... "

"oh, terry," she grinned and kissed him, and he closed his eyes, savoring it.

she finished changing him, double diapering again, and helped him into the usual pink long-sleeved t-shirt. she popped a pacifier into his mouth and undid his ponytail, he blushed and ember paused, because for all intents and purposes, terry looked like a little girl. even the scar crossing his nose served to make him look childish, highlighting his pale grey eyes, still innocent after all that he'd done. ember realized that it really wasn't him doing the killing, not intentionally, as if the basilisk had been beaten into him, so that he became it when he was pushed to the breaking point. sure, he could be tough when he was himself, but that was only to protect her.

she hugged him, whispering, "i'm so sorry..."

and he clung to her, whispering around the pacifier, "emmie? what's wrong."

"nothing. i love you." he snuggled up to her, "wuvs you too."
and she laughed, "you make such a cute baby, terry." he didn't know what to say, so instead he just smiled.


they went to the kitchen and ember pulled a suprise from the cabinet, a bottle. and written on the side in blocks was terry's name. she pulled another one out, and this one had her name on it. terry's mouth made an 'o' behind his pacifier. "momma got them yesterday while we were out, there's enough for all of us too." she pulled down two more, one inscribed with the M and star, and the other had a teddy bear on it. she filled all four with milk and brought them into the living room, "you guys need changing?"

argent patted her front and then made an arm wriggle that meant, 'i'm good for now'. marcus on the other hand shook his hips and said, "give it another twenty minutes and i will." at that, ember handed them the bottles, stripped off her pants and sat down, turning the t.v. to cartoons. terry stiffened, uttering a few words in german.

"what's wrong terry?" ember asked.

"what is that?"

"tom and jerry, why?"

"nein, i mean that box."

"you've never seen a t.v. before?"

"ReeeeH? that's what that is?" he babbled for a moment then turned back to her, "beth never had one, we just had a radio. i'd seen them on the black market and always wondered..."

"whoa...," ember mouthed.

marcus interjected, his face flushing as he wet himself, "you have to remember, we raised ourselves, living off the streets, for god only knows how long, and terry's the only one who's ever been to school. i'm a bit behind the times myself, for crying out loud, i used smith and wesson's! i just recently found out that there are other guns out there."

they let it go and relaxed, spending the evening watching cartoons in their diapers, just like a bunch of toddlers.

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elsewhere, will awoke to a stinging sensation across his face. it was a belt, he knew by the rasp of the leather as it was swung, and he kept silent, as it whipped across his cheek again and again. he knew it would only be worse if he acknowledged it, but still, it was painful. and then.... 'jingle' as the hand holding the belt flicked it so that the metal part was on the swinging end. 'crack!' will grit his teeth, choking down a scream, and then he knew...

he'd left the diaper on when he got home, and had caught up on housework, as the others were out somewhere. he'd taken a nap, intending to get up in a few minutes. in doing so, he'd unbuttoned his pants, so they'd feel more comfortable. at the moment, the waistband was around his thighs, so his padded rear was in full view. he could smell the alcohol on the breath of his attacker, and knew it to be his father, by the way he paced as he swung.

all this flashed through his head within about four seconds of being hit.

he wet himself again, this time unintentionally, and tears streamed from his eyes. his father snorted in disgust, and whipped the belt across his face one last time. but this time, the metal tine caught in his cheek and ripped it open...

as the footsteps receded, will let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and thought, 'this is definitely (owch!) going to be a long week...' he looked back and breathed a sigh of relief, as his sweater completely covered his diaper.

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meanwhile, in the izumi penthouse...

ocoa sat, perusing an illustrated version of the kama sutra, laughing softly every now and then.
sable had spread out in front of her on the kotatsu table, a huge mass of papers, some covered in mathematical scrawl, and others showing diagrams or various parts to her current project. said project was, at the moment, all over the table. it had begun life as a pocket watch, but sable had added things to it, and was in the process of fine tuning the gears, filing here, adding there, or anoting one for shinji to resize later.
she wore a spaghetti strap black top, and her abenas, and nothing else.

shinji himself had stepped out for a while, picking up steel for a project of his own.

as sable worked, her free hand crept down to the front of her diaper and began stroking. after about a minute, she noticed she was wet, terribly so, and asked ocoa for a change.

he agreed and she laid down. he untaped her diaper and began to wipe her clean, when he was done, he went to tape on the new one and she sat up and wrestled him onto his back. giggling, she ripped his pants off and untaped his diaper, which was dry, as he hadn't had a chance to use it yet. she dropped her head toward his nether regions and licked, all the way up to his belly button. he raised an eyebrow, and said, "are you sure?" she nodded and moved herself around, so that she crouched, half naked over top of him. then she dropped, sliding his member into herself and rocking slowly back and forth, he answered in similar fashion. within mere moments, both let out a low moan. sable layed over top of him, feeling drained but happy.

ocoa suddenly froze, "oh... what's you're dad gonna say?"

a voice from the kitchen made both of them jump, because shinji shouldn't have been home yet, "absolutely nothing. from what i HEARD, it was consensual. i trust you both. just remember to name one of my grand-babies after me." he poured himself a cup of coffee, and went down to the floor below.

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around sundown, the door to the winters apartment opened with a bang, nikole loaded with bags, and with the twins in tow rushed in. "d-dang it got cold!" she stuttered, "radio says there's gonna be snow tomorrow too."

"really?" ember asked, "it hasn't snowed here since i was little."

"nice pun," chuckled marcus.

"everybody, pants off!" nikole said, and opened the bags, showing several packs of diapers and other baby paraphenalia.

terry was changed first, and even though he wore two diapers again, he was drenched, totally unable to control his own bladder, and even a little messy. nikole wiped him clean and then began to put lotion on, her hands cool and comforting where they passed. then she pulled a diaper from the new pack and taped it on. she had terry stand up and look at himself in the mirror.

oddly, this diaper only had four tapes. the padding was doubly thick, but that only showed in the rear, where it seemed to emphasize his natural curves, it also had cartoonish print along the tape landing strip. he turned this way and that, and finally lifted his shirt above his belly button, tying it into a small tail in the back to hold it up. he patted a few spots, checking them out and then, behind the bottle in his mouth, he grinned and flashed a thumbs up.

ember was next, and she giggled uncontrolably the whole time, blushing a cute shade of pink. when changing was done, she hugged terry, and he swung her around, smiling from ear to ear.

marcus and argent went much the same way, each having their own revelations, but argent was suprised enough that she actually spoke, just a 'whoa!' but that was enough to turn everyone's heads, she clapped a hand over her mouth. terry pulled the bottle from his, and replied, "i was beginning to think you were mute."

argent made several arm wriggles and gestures, roughly meaning: 'it wasn't me. julie did it! blame the monkey. nothing to see here.' terry laughed out loud, raspy but happy, "bu' you has a great voice, don't hide it."

'wriggle wriggle' "iza so?" he stepped forward and tickled her, marcus jumping in to help, within seconds she had wet herself so badly that the new diaper yellowed all over, and she squealed between laughs, "please, stop!"

"finally!" terry laughed. argent clamped her mouth shut and made several rapid gestures.
"'fwaid i can't unna stan that." terry giggled and began to suckle on his bottle again.

next raevyn got changed into one that was her size, she bit her lip and looked to the side the entire time, embarassed. roebyn, on the other hand, steadfastly refused to wear diapers period, often breaking into loud snickers or belly laughs at the sight of her older sister dressed like a child.

after all the changing was done, nikole showed them what else she'd found: footed sleepers in their sizes, cat eared toboggans, and other such sundries. she then pulled out a special suprise for argent, a long coat, slimmer than marcus's and done in gray with silver detailing. (the chosen mark being a stylized 'A' and a four pointed star.) she also gave her a bottle with the same symbol, and a pacifier of her own. argent immediately mouthed it, and began to suckle, hugging nikole.

after all this, nikole got up and began to fix dinner, ember followed, deciding she was going to help with the cooking.

terry, on the other hand, went out to the balcony, shutting the door behind him, "whewe ah you?" he whispered to the winds.

"close enough." came a voice from beside him, the lanky figure of the basilisk lounged against the wall, the new skull mask over his mouth. "it will do," he whipped back around, and sitting astride the railing was himself, in a black button up, with a wistful look on his face. terry began, "three days to come up with something, What'll it be?"

"bloody, i hope," basilisk chuckled mirthlessly.

"no more killing!" little terry said, the lisp temporarily gone.

"killing is what we do, brat. remember it well, cuz i love it and you'll never escape it." with that, the basilisk grinned, making the mask shift into a skeletal grimace and, flipping him the finger, vanished.

chapter eleven: bad for good


terry awoke first, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked over at ember. she was wearing a footed sleeper and was curled into a ball, pacifier in her mouth, smiling at her dreams, which were good for once. he yawned widely, ending it with a small squeak, and went to take a shower.

once in, he stripped and glanced over at the mirror. numerous stitchmarks covered his stomach, the most recent looking several months old. his left arm looked like it had been through a meat grinder, bruised and scarred all the way to his shoulder, and was stiff, as it always was in the morning. his hair had grown back since the battle with leon, and now reached his ankles once more, oddly enough though, it never grew beyond that length. he turned backwards, looking over his shoulder. the whip marks were more evident than ever, deeply ingrained into his back, and the tattoo accross his neck (winged crescent inside a pentagram) stood out in all it's purple-inked, blasphemous glory. he shook his head, and turned on the shower, then he untaped his diaper, letting it hit the floor with a wet plop.

the water was just short of scalding, hot but enlivening and he let it course over him, feeling content. then the door creaked open, and a thin arm wrapped around his chest, "mahn 'f I jonn ya?" (mind if i join you?) ember asked, still cotton mouthed from sleep. terry turned a bright red from head to toe, unable to speak, and ember began to shampoo his hair.

when all was said and done, they stepped out, wrapped in towels and went into ember's room. ember diapered terry first, and as she unwrapped the towel, she noticed wet spots on it from where terry hadn't been able to control himself. she added powder and lotion and taped one of the new diapers on him. he was still blushing...

"terry, are you thinking naughty?" he darkened even more and she giggled, "don't worry about it, if i wanna shower with my boy then i will. theres nothing to be emberassed about, it' not as if i've never seen you naked before. ummm, can you help me out here?" she held up a diaper for herself, and terry nodded.

he diapered her swiftly, powdering and then carefully rubbing the lotion in, and finally taping it snugly. then he pulled out something else nikole had found, plastic pants covered by cloth on the front, this one with a winking smiley face on it. he slipped it under ember and pulled it securely, patting down the velcro tabs. then he found one for himself, adorned with a silver butterfly and ember helped him into it.

(for those who don't know, gamma akutabi(zombie powder) has the same symbol on his coat.)

she pulled out pants, shirts and the sweaters for both of them, since it was getting cold out, and then held out a long, thick pink ribbon to terry, he took it and tilted his head, looking confused. she pulled his hair back loosely and tied the ribbon into a bow. he half closed his eyes, smiling, and kissed her.

he pulled on one boot, and looked around for the other, which was accross the room. ember went to grab it for him, and immediately fell over backwards, because it was incredibly heavy! "what have you got in these?" she asked, and terry replied, "the soles are made of solid steel, so..."

a few minutes later they went to wake up marcus and argent. marcus, dressed in a green sleeper with an obvious bulge around the crotch, had several sticky notes stuck to himself, that read 'do not disturb. or else!'. argent on the other hand, was on the couch upside-down, wearing a diaper and nothing else, grinning from ear to ear, totally alseep, and slightly drooling.

terry bit his lip, and silenty laughed. a moment later he mouthed, 'should we take pictures?'.

once they were outside, terry swept ember into his arms, and slammed a boot into the ground. and just like that, they were flying...



they landed some ways off from the school, so as not to draw attention to themselves, and walked the rest of the way. they were in for a suprise...


crowding around the school was a huge group of protestors. bearing picket signs and generally being moody. the police were out in full force, directing in students while keeping everyone else out. as terry and ember fought their way through, an officer drew them to the side, "makoto, right? we know who you are, but we're denying you're here period. chief wants to talk to you later, he also says don't answer any questions unless the person asking has a badge. good luck...SIR." he saluted and let them go.

suddenly the crowd was split in half, and the roar of a mammoth harley screeching to a stop made everything go quiet. the driver and passenger removed their helmets, revealing ocoa and sable. they talked for a moment, and then ocoa swept sable into a hug, and kissed her deeply, "love you, sexy lady."


terry and ember went their seperate ways for their first two classes, hugging eachother tightly. when terry was about halfway to his class, an officer reached out and grabbed his arm, "this way, SIR." and directed him into the teacher's lounge. on one of the couches was a totally nondescript man wearing the uniform of the chief of police. he stood as terry entered, saluting. "basilisk, it's good to finally meet you!"
"i'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, herr...?" terry said, his voice still very raspy.

"darcy clarke, head of the metropolitan E-branch." he held out a hand.

"E-branch?" terry asked, shaking it, but totally lost.

"erhmmm.... how best to put this.... hit me!"

"what?!" he was shocked, "why?"

"trust me." darcy replied, a slight smirk on his face.

"alright," terry drew back his left hand, and slammed forward with a punch that should have floored a cow. it headed directly for darcy's face, but at the last second, flew to the right, totally missing him. darcy bit back a laugh, and drew his gun, "think that was wierd? watch this."
he pointed the gun at his own temple and pulled the trigger. the bullet exploded blowing gun to pieces, leaving the handle intact, and not even marring darcy in the slightest.

terry's jaw dropped, he had no words.

"i have a metahuman ability called 'guardian angel', i'm told i could walk through a nuclear explosion and come out unscathed. funny thing though, i still turn off the power to change a light bulb..." darcy chuckled, he'd done this before, always getting the same reaction.

"b-b- whaaaa, wait there are metas in the police force?" terry stuttered.

"that's exactly what E-branch is, we specialize in meta crime-busting."

"oh, god..."

darcy patted him on the shoulder, "don't worry, you're not in trouble, if anything, i want to thank you."

"f-for what?" terry asked, and from around his waist came a hissing sound.

"being what you are, your unique abilities surpass everyones on my team. i've actually seen you fly... all my people specialize in finding, or mind reading, mind Espionage, hence the E. since you're a vigilante, you're not bound by the laws in the same way we are. and having all those gang members killed or reformed, that saves a lot of time and headache for us."

terry was silent, digesting the information. so darcy continued, "we havn't been able to pinpoint corsica's location, he seems to be able to reflect mind probes and such. so i've been having the boys running constant mindsweeps over the same areas, eventually we'll figure out exactly where the reflections are emanating... basically he'll give himself away."

there came a hissing sound from terry once more as he wet himself, still terrified somehow that he was in trouble.

"when we do, the information comes to you first, you're probably the only one capable of taking him down...," darcy noticed his terrified eyes, " calm down, i'm not going to arrest you, all i want is to see that bastard dead already, too many lives have been lost from his misdeeds."

"so... i've got a license to kill?"

"provided the 'victim'," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "has a criminal record, or is caught in the act, then yes. so far, every one of your kills has fallen under those guidelines."

terry let out a sigh of relief and darcy, getting a strange look on his face asked, "am i really that scary?"
an odd question since darcy was totally average in every way, brown hair, brown eyes, middling height and weight, and so on. in fact, his very face was easily forgotten, he attributed this to his guardian angel again.

terry blushed, "it's more of the circumstances..."

"theres one thing i want to ask though, the new mask... can i see it?"

terry dug through his bag and pulled out the gleaming steel contraption, handing it to darcy, who turned it around in his hands. after a few minutes he said, "the man who made this... he's either got the hands of a god, or the mind of a madman." he handed it back, and terry tucked it into his bag. in doing so, a few spare diapers fell to the floor. terry's breath caught in his throat.

"so it wasn't just me being scary... injuries perhaps?" darcy asked.

"y-yeah, and... i kinda like em, they're comfy." terry blushed again, smiling a little.

"good. as long as you have that innocence, the world is open to you." darcy bowed, and then excused himself. taking his officers with him. he paused by the door, "yesterday's events led to today's protest, remember that. they know you now. but OFFICIALLY... the basilisk was never here, and never will be. ciao!"

as terry left, he palmed the pacifier in his pocket, and began to suck on it, hiding it beneath his oversized sleeve, looking as f he were covering a sneeze.

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ember on the other hand, was once more in calculus-2. there was a test, and though she hadn't studied, math came easy to her. unfortunately, even common sense eludes some people. she found this out as the idiot from several weeks before spitballed her and began whispering, "hey puuuussy!" (and several other similar statments, which I personally refrain from typing) her nails left furrows in the desk and she inhaled sharply, as if she was about to release a sonic burst. suddenly someone to her right grabbed her arm. she looked up, startled, to meet the eyes of kin. he made a funny face, and then, taking a marker, made a funnier face on his hand, and held a finger to his lips and ducked down. tapping the red on his bracelet, he went totally intangible and invisible, and slid through his desk. suddenly there came a scream from behind ember and she whipped around to see a floating hand coming up through her tormentor's desk. the hand clenched and showed the face scrawled upon it. "ooga booga!" it said, and nearly everyone in the class took off for the door, including the teacher.

as he left the class, behind ember, kin jotted down a few notes into a small notebook. he looked up at ember and said, "thing from addams family, with a twist. next, is that scene from exorcist... you know the spinning, vomiting head?"

"classic absolutely... kin you uhm..." ember searched for the words.

"i phased out of my clothes again didn't I?" he asked and ember laughed.

"oyo?" he stood clothed in only a disposible diaper, luvs brand oddly enough. then he slid into the floor. a moment later, he walked back out, fully dressed.

"hey... terry's having a war concil in two days, at leon's old hideout. can you come?"

"absolutely." kin replied, grinning.

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terry met ember in english class, and they told each other how their day had gone. terry laughed so hard at kin's antics and his next 'big idea' that it brought tears to his eyes. and ember got really quiet as terry told her about darcy. "so the police WANT your help?"

"it seems that way."


then, mr. phil's voice cut above the class chatter, "we have three new students, all transfers! introduce yourselves!" this last part was aimed at the newbies.

"Leonhardt Teremer." the youth was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt with a red sunburst pattern. his black hair hung past his shoulders and was secured with a red ribbon,in much the same way as terry's. inside his pocket, his hand nervously flipped a small, old fashioned flint lighter open and closed.

"O-hayo gaijin! Saitorie Hanazuru straight from nihon, in yo' faces! you can call me saito." the next transfer student was dressed in purple trips, and a back and purple t-shirt, but what made terry sit up straight and stare, was his hair. it was red striped... silver!

"hello you... this could be good..." terry whispered.

"edward serpiente. don't expect any theatrics." his eyes were a sort of feral yellow, and his black hair cropped short. there was a single stripe of silver running through the black expanse, that dead ended in a jagged birthmark above his right eye. on the side of his face was a smear of white face paint, as if he'd only rubbed the rest off a short while ago.

"well... it's boogeyman." terry whispered to ember again.
"how can you tell?" she asked.
"look at the way he walks. the exact same strut. on a side note..."
"hmm?"
"the other two... they're diapered. and the guy with red stripes... he's a vigilante, chiru, i believe he called himself. we've never met face to face, but i've heard he's good. probably better than me... leonhardt though... he's meta alright, and i can smell lighter fluid on him... but we've definitely never met before."

all three newbies ended up sitting close to terry and ember, as there were several spots open there.

"'allo boogey." terry said as edward passed him.
edward stiffened, he hadn't expected to be found out that qickly, "a-'allo bazzy."
"i know you're here as cory's spy. give him a message for me. january seventh is our day."
edward grimaced, and then said, "it's done. he says he's marked it on the calendar, and looks forward to it with baited breath... there's some other stuff too that... REALLY does not bear repeating."

"i know the feeling. he's quite... perverse."

"mmhmmm." edward discreetly rubbed his rear end, then snagged a sheet of paper, and without looking at it, scrawled, 'get me free before the seventh, please.' he avoided looking at the paper, because corsica had demonstrated that he could control almost all aspects of those with one of his chips implanted in their necks. and, if corsica didn't SEE it, he didn't know about it. edward's eyes were pleading, and terry nodded, discreetly. at that edward visibly relaxed.

terry then turned around, looking at the other two. "herr chiru, at last we meet."
"how do you know me?!"
terry pulled his sweater down far enough to expose his scars, half smiling.
"basilisk..."
"it suprising... i'd never expected to meet another diapered high school vigilante... let alone two..." terry giggled.
saito/chiru gasped, and leonhardt looked as if he were about to cry. saito looked over, "you act anymore babyish and i might think you're a newborn."

at this point, leo really did begin to cry. and ember pulled him into a hug, "saito be nice."

"heeeey.... that was meant to be a compliment." he stuck out his tongue.

terry couldn't stand waiting any longer, he took the pacifier from his pocket and began to suckle.

"awww, dat's so kawaii!" saito said. (but he was still a little shocked from finding out that the silver haired girl in front of him was actually the basilisk.)

after a moment, leo looked up at ember and said, "thank you... i'm still a bit new to wearing diapers... not q-quite comfortable w-with everybody knowing."

"we only noticed because we wear them too. otherwise, it's impossible to spot unless you make it obvious... like terry." she pointedly looked at the pacifier and chuckled.

terry asked from behind his pacifier, "can i request your assisstance in corsica's demise?"
saito smiled a roguish grin, "of course. i got nothin' better to do."
"and you?" terry asked, turning to leo.
"i-i don't think i'm that good..."
"don't beat up on yourself, if you're not up to par, then we'll help you get better.
"o-okay." leo smiled just a little.

"alright, in two days meet us at don leon's old hideout. it should be the only building cordoned off with police tape. top floor. i'm hoping we'll have enough for a full frontal wipeout."


from behind them came a few strains of 'margritaville' sung just slightly off key, as if edward were trying to keep corsica from hearing.

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chemistry was next, as usual, but here too, terry had a nice little 'suprise'. will stood near the back of the room, looking irate. his neck and face were covered in bruises, all of them oddly shaped and accross one cheek was a nasty gash, deep enough that the inside of his mouth could be seen through it...

"just how good are you at stitching?" he asked, through clenched teeth.

"n--" terry began to speak, but another voice cut accross his, "i'll handle this."

the voice belonged to shinji, who was studying the wound with concerned eyes. he walked back to his desk, and pulled out a small block of steel, wrapped in a seal that read "for surgical use only" he inhaled sharply and his eyes suddenly went black all over. one hand held the steel and the other moved in quick, arcane gestures. and without warning, the block exploded into spikes, then a ball, then a pole, and finally into a thin ribbon, which snaked into will's cheek, making him bite down a scream.

shinji let out a ragged breath, rewrapping the remainder of the steel. "t-that should do it. i don't know how you got that... but if it's how i think it is, i'd kill him for it..."

will gritted his teeth, tears pouring from his eyes, and managed a reply. "it's how you think it is. but it's home, shitty, but a roof over my head. i can live with the old man being a dick..." he paused then whispered, "if i can call it living..."
strangely, no blood flowed from his wounds, before or after shinji's repairs. just as none had flowed when he got them. there was an audible hiss from his pants, and ember looked down, wide eyed. (here's another oddity... dead-men can't blush. wanna guess why?)

the diaper around will's waist was almost undetectable, due to the coloring and nature of his clothes, and when he walked, it was without the characteristic waddle. after terry's impromptu 'surgeon general moment' he found that he rather enjoyed wearing them, even if his home life was a living hell it gave him a little bit of a pick-me-up.

ember spoke with will throughout the rest of class, firing off questions, especially about his diapers, and even one or two about being 'dead'. terry just listened in, mentally filing away the information.


and so, the class ended and they prepared to leave.

but, walking down the hall someone let out a yell, "hey you faggot!"
terry knew it was directed at him, but he ignored it and then the call came again, "faggot! you with the WHORE!"
before the offender (the same one from ember's calculus class.) could blink, terry had turned, his boots slammed into the ground, left!, right!, and he whipped his left arm forward slamming two fingers into the young man's chest. "DIIIIIIE!" terry roared. there was an explosion of red light, shot through by a veritable storm of sparks, and the young man shot backward accross the hall, he slid nearly thirty feet, smacking into a row of lockers. he coughed and gingerly sat up, cross-eyed.
terry on the other hand, stood rooted to the spot, in the exact position he'd attacked in. his face was a mask of feral rage, his eyes solid bloody red, and glowing with a hellish light. the tips of his fingers smoked, still throwing off sparks. every vein on his body stood in red relief against his skin, but unlike before, they too were glowing. he snarled, his voice raspy, but devoid of accent or compassion, "mock me, whatever. mock her, i'll rip your FUCKING HEAD OFF!" he straightened up, whipping his left hand straight out to the side. as if he'd done it a thousand times before, he snapped his fingers and every tenet of his hellish transformation vanished. his eyes, grey again, rolled back in his head and he hit the ground with a loud "kathunk".

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terry awoke several hours later, visions of hell still playing through his head from the dream he'd been living ever since he lost consciousness. he breathed heavily, and rolled out of bed. dressed in nothing but his diaper, he looked very childlike, and as he looked at himself the corner of his mouth rose in a silent snarl. he dressed quickly, pulling on his basilisk outfit, and then proceeded to the bathroom. yanking the leaden knife from his boot, he began to hack at his hair, grabbing handfuls and cutting, not caring what he looked like. by the time he was done it was only a few inches long, and combined with his expression, he appeared years older. the silver haired man in the mirror glared back at him, and he pulled on the skull mask...


in the living room where ember and the others had gathered to wait for terry to awake, everybody looked up as he stormed through, wrenching open the balcony door. he didn't utter a single word as he stepped out and went airborne.

after a moment ember gasped, "w-w- terry?" she ran after him, going airborne less than a minute later, and much more clumsily. marcus just sat, slackjawed, "well... that's new." he said a moment later.

-ten minutes later-

"COME OUT YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU GODDAMN COWARD!!!!!!" ember could hear terry as if he were right next to her, but she could just barely make out his sillhouette several hundred yards away.

"took you long enough." a burst of lightning shot by terry's head, followed by a line of fire, which he dodged easily. a sonic wave smacked into him, leaving him disoriented. "tch... boy, i swear, you have gotten sloppier. 'parently i need to set you straight."

terry roared again and fired a 'drive' straight back to where the attacks emanated from. "show your face, ass-hole!"

with an infuriating cackle, corsica slid up from inside the rooftop. "bend over boy, you're my bitch, and it's time for your medicine."

terry's face went completely primal. ember would later swear that she saw surrounding his form for just the space of an eyeblink: the transparent form of an enormous skeletal snake... the basilisk!

terry's left arm burst into an explosion of red lightning, and he slammed it forward straight at corsica. corsica merely laughed, and copied terry's move exactly, as their fists met, he hit him with another bolt of lightning. the resulting explosion knocked terry flat, expending the last of his energy as his healing factor tried to kick in. with a sick grin and demented cackle, corsica unzipped his pants...

try as she might, ember simply wasn't fast enough to save him, and terry's scream tore at her. even worse than when he'd fought freed...

the scream cut off suddenly, and corsica dropped him to the ground. terry's pants had a large hole ripped into the crotch, the padding from his diaper spilling out onto the ground, along with a string of milky, white fluid. his neck was cut as well, deeply enough that it bled profusely. corsica knelt over him, pressing a knee into terry's groin, eliciting a gasp of pain. then he took the penknife he had slit terry's throat with, and slashed accross the bridge of his nose, reopening the scar there, before carving several deep gashes accross his chest.

"a war council, really? my little boy-whore, you really need to learn better. you cannot beat me, you cannot placate me. i am a force of nature. i will say this in your defence though, you WERE the best fuck i've ever had, and you still are." he stood up, and began to urinate all over terry. once he had finished, he zipped his pants, and kicked terry in the face, smiling he said, "have a nice day." and slid downward, through the building.

terry passed out, the next time he opened his eyes was nearly a week later.

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-several hours later-

corsica stood in his office. two forms faced him, both with implants in their necks. one was edward serpiente, the boogeyman; the other was the same boy who had called terry a faggot, the same one who had given ember such a hard time.

"really, i must thank you for that. it was your your total assholery that made him flip, and get sloppy."

"no prob, boss. that faggot needed a wakeup call anyway."

"i agree, it's high time i got my little slave back. BUT! i want him broken this time, no hope, no feeling, no nothing. maybe he needs another dose of 'little cory'."

edward said nothing, but it was clear that he was uncomfortable. corsica looked over at him, "awww, whatsa matter, is my widdle eddie gay fow terry?" he laughed as edward gritted his teeth, trying not to scream at him. corsica made to turn away, and then spun around, backhanding him accross the face, "grow a pair you little shit!"

chapter twelve: fallen angel


"dead by blood loss, shock, and... aw shit!" the stranger in the white business suit sat across from him in the dead-zone, head in hands.

"i guess this time it's permanent?" terry asked, his voice wavering.

"no, there's still much chaos. i'm dealing with my own bit back home, very messy. so, you'll have to go back."

"... then before i go, i have a request."

"yes?"

"i challenge you, if i win, you tell me your name."

the man coughed, "crazy boy say what?"

terry breathed slowly, and said, "a contest of swords."

"good luck." the man spoke several words in what could have been Latin, and terry's blades appeared in his hands. oddly enough, limelight's case had been restored.

terry took them, sliding limelight through his belt. he revved killer queen, letting it vent his frustrations. the stranger's hand went to the long white boken on his back, he pulled it, revealing it to be a katana, devoid of a hand guard. terry's eyes fell on it's blade and he gasped, because the steel... was stark shining white!

he tapped the handle and the blade split up the middle, making two very thin, very long swords. he held one up, one down in a kutabaryu stance, "scream out your defiance to the heavens, akumaru so-kiba!" he said, and
both swords exploded into pale cyan flames. "i highly doubt your steel can handle hellfire."

terry's eyes turned red and he flicked killer queen into a short, sharp arc, firing off a drive. the man caught the air burst on the tip of his leading blade, and spun it, dissipating the lethal force as if it were nothing. planting queen, he performed the same move with limelight, to a similar effect. a wry smile split his face and he grabbed killer queen. spinning both blades, he drove limelight into the ground, causing a huge tail of flame to rise from it. he fired a drive from the massive sword still in his hands, straight through the fire, and spoke two words, "tyrant... RAVE!" the effect was a massive explosion of fire that took the man head on. his eyes widened and he said, "well, this is unexpected."

"i guess I’ll count that as a win, for now." he said, standing behind terry. his suit wasn't marred in the slightest...

"my name... is Terciel halcyon makoto. lord Godspeed of the divine knights who guard the shattered spirit of the basilisk."

terry gasped, unable to speak. so the other did for him, "see why i wanted to wait till you were dead? this will cause problems... so we don't get each other confused, just call me ko-yami, it's... a child hood nickname."

at that very moment, his figure erupted into sparks and smoke. when it cleared, his appearance was younger by far, an exact mirror image of terry, down to the scar across his nose, and his long silver hair. his clothing had changed too, to a set of black clothes overlaid by a white trench coat, "damn it! stupid unreliable spells!"

terry's eyes migrated down to his waist however and he began to chuckle. "what's the punch line?" ko-yami asked.

"is that how i look?" terry asked. "you're wet!"

ko snorted and then laughed too, "yeah, yeah i am."

"oy, i'm talking to myself!"

"I’ll do you one better" ko poked him, "stop hitting yourself!"



-several puns and twin jokes later-

they sat back to back, resting. ko began to talk, "i think... we probably are the same person, just, what could have occurred. y'see, for every event that happens, there is a second possibility. in essence, we are each what would have been for the other. but, at the same time, our appearances could be pure coincidence."

"if that's so, how did we meet like this?"

"the dead-zone exists in every reality at once. there is only one dead-zone. it's very confusing."

terry got really quiet then said, "if we are each other does that mean that we're wearing the same diaper at the same time?"

"little nuances like that... i don't really know. it's possible, but unlikely though."

he stood, undoing his glove, "we've been here nearly a week of your time. you need to go back."

terry nodded and stood up, waiting. ko chanted his spell, and placed his palm on terry's forehead.

there was a flash, and terry vanished. ko waited, seeing beyond the dead-zone. then he spoke more Latin and vanished as well.


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the first sign of life from terry's pale body was a cough, then a giggle that broke into deep belly laughter.
ember jerked in the chair she had been sleeping in and looked up. tears streaming down his cheeks, and laughing fit to burst, terry met her eyes and said between giggles, "good morning my angel."

ember froze, terry's voice no longer had a rasp, period. his hair had grown back at an incredible pace, once again to ankle length. even the scars and contusions Corsica had given him were faded, as if they'd happened years ago instead of a week. the strangest thing of all, even though he no longer had a rasp, his voice wasn't his own. it was lighter, girlish even. sure there was a touch of the old terry, but the old quiet was gone... it no longer hurt him to talk louder than a whisper!


"emmie? what's wrong?" he asked.

"t-terry? i-is that y-you in there?" she was visibly shaken, stuttering her words.

from the doorway came an answer, "his healing factor completely reset, from what i see, you just got a miracle." the man speaking was so bald that his head gleamed. his name-tag read, dr. baldhead, but that was crossed out and the name 'Faust' scribbled above it. "when he came in, i thought we had a corpse to deal with. but... as long as the heart beats, we do what ever we can. Mr. basilisk, for the love of god, kill that bastard, cause what he did... that's just NAAASTY!"

"you're the one who healed me?" terry asked.

"no, you did that, we just cleaned you and held the pieces together till they stuck."

"very eloquent. thank you Herr... Faust?" Faust did a two finger salute and left the room.

ember still huddled in her chair, wary. terry shook his head and clambered out of bed, mentally noting that the nurses had put a diaper on him. he stumbled for a second, and then crouched down to ember's level, she backed away from him.

"em..." he leaned forward, and kissed her. her eyes widened and then closed, a smile playing about her lips.

she leaned into the kiss, and to terry's surprise, made it a French kiss. when they finished, she pulled him into a tight hug, whispering, "i missed you."

"and i you, ma petite." she blushed as he used her pet name. then his strong arms enfolded her, and she knew she'd never lose him again.

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within a short while of being released from the hospital, terry had the message spread that the war council would commence at six that night, and while everyone else got prepared, he and ember went to the homeless shelter.

"terry, who are you hoping to find?" ember asked as they walked in the front.

"you'll see." he said enigmatically, and headed for Anthony’s office.

Anthony was at his desk, feet propped up, and a telephone to his ear, he listened for a moment, and then said, "sorry, we closed at two." he hung up, "damn, still no password..."

from the doorway terry grinned and said, "Dante Sparda, your enemies are demons. is that the right one?"

dante/tony flipped over backwards in his chair, hitting the ground with a crash, from behind the massive desk he asked, "yeah... but how the hell did you know that?"

"i'm more observant than you give me credit for, and since i just said the password, i believe that makes me a priority caller."

"alright... what's the job?" he asked, standing up and pulling off the brown wig he'd been wearing, revealing white hair shot through with streaks of bright silver.

"the end of don Corsica, his empire, his minions, and all the little shit bits in between. i have a whole team ready to ease the workload, but we'll be needing a real demon to help out. for now, we're having a war meeting, the real mess won't start till January the seventh."

"absolutely." Dante beamed, and slammed a fist into the wall. from within were several clicks and the whole thing slid sideways. inside the new room were several different coats, some red, some blue and even a Victorian purple. there was an entire wall filled with swords, everything from long swords, to wicked daggers, to a massive 'thing' with the word vendetta inscribed on it. on the other wall were guns, simple .45s, needle guns, even a rocket launcher and a huge pipe that looked like it had been torn from a tank, inscribed with the name, kalina ann. below that were a few pairs of gauntlets and greaves, one set glowing, one seeming to burn with infernal fire, and one that was enmeshed with gears. set next to that was a metal skull with two arms coming off of it, the arms ending in quivers that held three swords apiece. reserving a special shelf all their own was a set of four katanas, each sharing the same motif, but with distinct differences. in truth they were the same sword, yamato, but were formed from the fragments the blade had been split into when it's original owner was killed.

above them was a massive red sword, that had no equal, Sparda!

ember gasped, and terry's eyes widened, as even he hadn't expected this.


Dante grabbed one of the red coats, the simplest looking one, his favorite, and began to peruse his weapons. after a moment, he decided to stick with his two classic handguns, ebony and ivory. at the other side his hand strayed toward a sword with a skull hand guard, until he thought better of it and turned, whipping Sparda off the wall. he spun it around his hand, somehow managing not hitting the wall even once.

"jackpot," he whispered, chuckling.

"all right then, let's get a move on!" terry said, and headed for the door.


terry stooped down to let ember get onto his back, which she did, then she locked her legs around his waist and waited. "ready?" terry asked Dante, who nodded enthusiastically. he slammed a boot into the ground and they were airborne. below him, Dante began to run, then jumped, then jumped again off of a glowing platform that had appeared beneath his feet. they kept pace with one another, Dante creating platforms at a seemingly endless rate, and terry kicking off building for height and gliding down for distance. ember let out an exhilarated 'YAHOO!' and terry joined in, both reveling in the sheer joy of their flight.

as they were about to land, ember wrapped her arms tighter around him, and said, "i'm sorry."

"for what?" he asked, and then felt a warm sensation across his back as ember wet herself, "for that? that’s fine, it's quite cold out here." he said, which made ember giggle.

"don Leon’s old haunt right?" Dante yelled back, pausing on another platform. terry got a good look, noting that it was a red circle filled with arcane inscriptions. something stirred in terry and he spoke a string of German words. as they left his mouth, the air beneath him crackled, and solidified into a similar shape to Dante’s, albeit buzzing with red static, and terry gasped, unsure of what he'd done.

"y-yeah, the don's old place. h-how you doing back there?" he asked ember.
"having the time OF MY LIFE!" came the reply, "why didn't you tell me you were a magician?"

"i don't... didn't know i was." he felt a tingling sensation in the back of his head, as if the effort of holding up the platform were slowly draining him. he shook it off and slammed a boot down. he shot up twice as high as usual, the magic dissolving beneath him, and spoke the words again. this time, the circle appeared sideways, and he kicked off it, flying for real. spreading his arms, he let himself drop into a glide, speaking the words one last time. he used the sideways circle as a running board, going at an angle, matrix style, to shoot to the left. Leon’s building lay directly in their view, and he dropped toward it at a shallow glide, landing in the smashed-out window with a short, undignified skid.

terry dropped to one knee, panting, and let ember get off.
"are you alright?" she asked, kneeling down next to him.

"i am now," he kissed her, and stood back up.


they waited a moment for Dante, and then made their way to the top floor.

the huge room was devoid of any furniture other than the chaise lounge, and smelled faintly of wood smoke. by the door were several packs of diapers, abena, luvs, and the newer brand that terry and ember used.

will lounged against the far wall, loaded with knives, and carrying a pool stick, his pockets bulged with all manner of oddments. the wound on his cheek had healed somewhat to a large eye-catching scar. he was speaking with saito and kin, in a rather heated discussion about what exactly qualified as a 'weapon'.
saito himself wore his purple and black attire, as well as some thin metal armor of the same color scheme. in a sheathe across his back was a small staff, about two and a half feet long, it looked to be made of heavy grade steel. kin, on the other hand was dressed immaculately, and appeared unarmed.

Leo stood by the window at the far edge of the room, looking slightly pained. by his feet was a sickle with a chain attached to it. the weapon was obviously very old, but retained it's sheen, and the red of it's handle.
there was a small rectangular groove expertly cut just above the handle, a groove about the same shape as the lighter that Leo reflexively flicked in his hand. his black hair was held back by the same red ribbon, and made his face seem childish.

on another wall, marcus was talking with argent. (i use the word 'talking' subjectively here...) both wore their long coats, showing off the symbols. beside marcus were terry's swords and costume (meticulously repaired by nikole.) oddly enough, limelight's case had been restored, and queen bore a scorch mark midway up it's length. marcus spoke in a mishmash of German and twangy English, and argent put on a rhythmic series of arm wriggles and hand signs. no one could say for certain what exactly they were talking about...

pacing around the center of the room was shinji, toting an absolutely HUGE package in the shape of a sword. at the moment, he was talking on a cell phone, "well, how the hell did you get that huge-ass Harley up on the high dive?" he paused, listening for a moment, "okay, see you soon, love you sable." as he hung up, he broke into a case of uncontrollable laughter. when he looked up toward the door, he waved at terry then his eyes went wide as he saw Dante, "hey, you still owe me for a pizza!"

Leo heard the commotion, and turned. as soon as he saw terry, his face lit up and he came bounding across the room. he threw himself into terry's arms, wrapping his legs around the taller boy's waist. pressing close, he whispered, "i'm glad you're back." on impulse he leaned up and kissed terry, full on the lips.
both he and terry blushed at the same time, and terry mumbled in German <'that was... oddly nice...'>

Leo stammered, also in German, giving terry a jolt, <'y-y-you're not f-freaked out? thank god!'> he hugged terry tighter, blushing furiously. ember began to giggle, making them both look over, "that was cute! do it again!"

Leo shook his head, "nu uh!" there was a slight hissing sound from around his waist, and as he glanced down, his lip quivered and he started to cry, burying his face in terry's shirt.

"Leo, let's get you changed." terry whispered to him. from between the folds of his shirt came a muffled reply, "i don wanna! Leo’s a big kitty!"

"well, even big kitties have an accident now and then, i know i do." terry said, stroking Leo’s hair.

"really?" Leo loosened his grip and looked up at terry.

"yes, really. emmie, can you get a-- thank you." he said as ember gave him one she'd already had in hand.

Leo loosened his legs and laid down on the floor, looking up at terry, sniffling a little. terry unbuttoned Leo’s pants and pulled them off, eliciting a small blush as Leo’s diaper was a sodden yellow all the way across the front. as he went to untape it, something small, black and furry twined itself around his hand, <'hmmm, you have a tail?'>, on a whim, terry drew back Leo’s hair... his ears were pointed, and even covered with a dusting of black fur. as he looked Leo began to whimper.
"what's the matter? you're a real kitty. And you know, i think it's kind of cute." terry tickled his tummy, and Leo giggled, kicking his legs in the air. then the front of his diaper grew wetter and he started to sniffle again.
it's alright, this'll be over soon." terry pulled the front down and Leo blushed a bright scarlet as his most private parts were shown. terry asked him to lift up, and then pulled the wet diaper from under him, putting the fresh one underneath. "ummm, gimme a sec..." he pulled it back out from under Leo, and slipped the lead knife from his boot and holding it like a scalpel, he cut a small slit in the back, and then slid it back under Leo. "sit up please." Leo did, and terry threaded his tail through the diaper, then lightly pushed him back down.

"i don't believe we have any lotion, will you be okay without it for now?" Leo nodded, and terry pulled up the front, taping the four tapes snugly. a few strands of his silver hair fell forward, and Leo batted at them playfully, like a kitten. "all done mister kitty. and might i say, you look adorable."
Leo looked at the new diaper, one of the brand that terry used, and blushed, then smiled. "tank oos, tewwy." he leaned up, and kissed terry on the lips again, making the other blush deeply as he returned it.

<'you might make ember jealous doing that.'> terry bit back a smile.
Leo cringed <'r-really? i-i'm s-s-sorry...'>
<'heeey, calm down, i was joking. ..... i think she likes watching'> he grinned, not a half smile but a roguish devil-may-care grin.
<'i-i-in that c-case'> his tail whipped around behind him, and he leaned in closer. this time, the kiss lasted longer and wasn't exactly innocent... by the time it was over, Leo was blushing scarlet and trembling all over, and terry looked slightly woozy. ember was wide eyed, and verrry impressed.

"a-alright, lets get your pants back on." terry said, and slid them on. when he got them to Leo’s waist, Leo made to tuck his tail down the leg, but terry stopped him, "that's gotta be uncomfortable, let me fix it." he took the knife and made an incision in the jeans, pulling Leo’s tail through. "there. feel better."
Leo flicked his tail experimentally, "much," he said with a shy smile. Leo stood up and realized that these diapers were twice as thick as the one he'd had on before, meaning that the bulge was very obvious, and he had to waddle just to walk. what was odd though, was that even though terry wore the exact same brand, the only change in his step was a limp that you'd only notice if you looked reeealy hard.


without warning a gust of wind blew through the room, even though there wasn't a single open window. about a quarter way out into the floor a crackling figure eight hung suspended in space. a few seconds later a blue doorway took it's place, and coming through that doorway was the faint sound of a motorcycle, growing steadily louder!

ocoa's mammoth Harley shot through the doorway, (which collapsed as he passed through it) doing a wheelie at about seventy miles an hour. balanced upright on the handlebars was sable, holding something resembling a pocket watch, with a look of extreme concentration on her face. ocoa grabbed her waistband, and dropped the front wheel, turning sharply to the right. as it slowed to a stop he said, "one hell of a way to make an entrance, eh?"

"too true, lover boy." sable dropped into his arms, covered in sweat, her diaper in a similar condition.
"alright, relax, catch your breath, you did great!" he kissed her cheek, and she snuggled up closer to him, breathing deeply to calm herself.


terry waited another moment and then raised his voice, which got everyone’s attention since they weren't used to the more feminine accent. "alright, everybody center of the room, council to order!"

"as everybody here is aware, we're preparing to face don Corsica, the last member of the trismagia. as it is, a good portion of you... i still don't know what you're capable of, so..." he paused for effect, "if no one has any objections, i'm going to take a few minutes to 'spar' with each of you."

Leo raised his hand, and shyly asked, "d-do i have to fight you?"
"yes. i won't attack, just defend. i have to know exactly what our 'team' is able to do."

"a-alright t-then, I’ll be your first o-opponent."

"HOLD IT!" shinji broke in, "before that, i have some weapon commissions to deliver." he hefted the huge package he'd been toting and handed to ocoa. unwrapped, the massive creation resembled a cross between a chainsaw and terry's queen. ocoa revved the handle (itself measuring over a foot and a half) and air gusted out from the ports on the back. there was a small ring on the back, which he pulled with a mighty jerk, and the teeth on the blade began to move. after a few minutes testing, he stopped the sword and dropped to one knee, with no pretense he dropped the metro accent he'd been using since he'd met terry, "izumi-dono, i am in your debt." there was a stunned silence, and then saito chirped, "you're Japanese too!" to which ocoa simply nodded.

shinji then tossed two small packages with belt clips to will, which were about the shape of a deck of cards. will opened one, "... these aren't metal." he held up a knife from on of the packages, it was barely thicker than a sheet of paper, completely transparent, and weighed almost nothing.

"it's called air-foil. i stopped making those for a while, because a lot of thugs kept getting a hold of them. the edge on one of those is keen enough to carve a man in half, without his notice." will raised an eyebrow and then, to everyone's shock, drew the blade across his own wrist. no blood spilled forth, not even a drop. "point taken. i'm betting they're really durable too."

"that would be correct. and due to the size, each pack contains about a hundred and fifty knives."

"bringing my grand total to three hundred seventy five, and four pool cues." he didn't even crack a smile.

"and marcus, these are for you." shinji handed him a set of two smith and Wesson 500's. the best gun currently on the market, they were capable of long range accuracy, and the up close and personal style that marcus used. these had been altered to an extensive degree. there was no ammo port in the handle, or anywhere for that matter, although there was a shell ejection slot on the side. on the inside, just before the barrel began there was a chamber, apparently set up so that marcus' power could have more room to charge.

then shinji dropped a third gun into his hands. long barreled, and blanketed with a red sheen, it gave off an eerie feeling. it's handle was nearly as straight as the gun itself, as if the thing were meant to be used as a sword.

"they need names." shinji said, and marcus held up the handguns, "Sodom and Gomorrah. the big one's jackal." shinji's eyes went black and the names carved themselves into the muzzles of the guns in an elegant cursive script.

shinji's eyes cleared and he said, "alright, you're good to go."

"alright, Leo ya ready?" terry asked, pulling on his mask, and unsheathing limelight slowly so it didn't ignite.

"uh huh," they moved to the center of the room, and Leo slid his lighter into the sickle and began to spin it around his body. the chain slid through his hands, giving the lengthy weapon some slack and he slung it at terry.

terry jerked his head to the side, "good. killer first move, what’s next?"
Leo gave it more slack and then, using his other hand, whipped it backward. the blade caught terry in the back, dragging him toward Leo. "aaaiie, terry are you okay?", Leo squealed.

terry pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, the back had a long bloody gash in it, but his back only had a hairline scar, "very good, more!"

he cast out the sickle once more intoning, "shiranami no homura!" and a huge black flame extended from the blade. terry whirled limelight in a hard widdershins swirl, redirecting whatever energy Leo had thrown at him. finally the blade flew aside and terry whipped limelight to a stop, and the entire length of it's blade was caked in ice.

terry's breath came out in a cloud of white, and he tapped his mask, splitting it up the middle, "passed. welcome to the team!"

at this point marcus walked up behind Leo and whispered in his ear, "is that a real tail?"
"y-yeah, why?"

marcus grabbed him in a bear hug, "i always wanted to have a kitty!"
Leo turned around in his arms to face him, "well now you've got one." a rumble started in his chest, and he hugged marcus back, the rumble growing into a full blown purr.
for some reason that neither could explain, each adored the other, and probably would for a long time.

terry just laughed, "i probably should've warned him that marcus loves cats..."

"i'm next." will's despondent voice echoed, and he stepped up, screwing together the two halves of his pool stick.

terry nodded for him to begin, and will responded by whipping a handful of knives at him. terry spun limelight and the blades all flew astray. "DOUBLE HEAD MORBID!" the pool stick spun in a brutal circle smacking into terry with a loud crack. will whipped out another handful of knives and threw them at him as he slid across the floor. about ten of them hit their mark and will let out a grim smile, he pulled a pool cue from his pocket and tossed it skyward smacking it with the stick and sending it across the room where it hit terry dead center in the chest. not losing any time, he ran forward and dipped his fingers in a small pool of terry's blood, drawing a circle in the air he barked, "NIGHTMARE ALTER!" the circle filled in blood red and some... thing shot out at terry. it had no discernable form or features, seemingly a mass of shadow. will whipped a hand skyward, "AMORPHOUS!" and the blob shifted into a mass of spikes and blades.

terry's eyes shifted to red the instant he was hit, and he kept backpedaling to redirect the worst of the hits. once he set his eyes on the nightmare heading for him, he drew limelight across the floor several times, causing it to spark and then to burst into flame. whipping it forward his hand suddenly danced with red sparks which shot the length of his blade, turning the flame a brilliant blue, without losing a beat he dashed forward skewering the thing, "hrgh... blue orchid!"
it dissolved in seconds, a jet of blue fire whipping out toward will, who tilted his head back and laughed. he began emptying his pockets, tossing everything he had at terry. with a look of intense concentration, terry batted away everything but a lone knife, which hit him directly in the left hand.

will let out a breath, then dropped his pool stick, "done, what do you think?"
terry pulled the knife from his hand slowly answering, "i think you're totally crazy..."

"death has that effect on you."
"will you quit it with this death bullshit, you're as alive as everyone else."
will scowled and stormed over, grabbing terry's hand and placing it on his chest, "what do you feel?"
terry shook his head, "nothi..." he moved his hand up to will's neck, then his arm, "you have no pulse..."
"told you." he rolled his eyes.
"w-well... welcome to the team." he extended a hand, but will walked around it and began collecting his arsenal.

"please tell me i'm not late!?" a new voice called from the door. the speaker was an incredibly tall, brown haired, blue eyed young man. slung across his back was a sword even more immense than queen, but oddly... it was completely translucent.

"hey, SKIP!" saito shouted from across the room, "what took you so long?"

"oh, the usual, i got lost on the road of life." skip's grin was wide, and made his brilliant blue eyes seem even darker shade of blue, "so basilisk, i hear you're puttin together a team, got room left for a water master?"

terry raised an eyebrow, "if that means what i think it does..."

"ter, sit this'n out, ah wanna have some fun." marcus said, his arms wrapped around Leo. his country accent was very thick, making terry look over.

"better idea, skip, you take the gunman, I’ll take the swordsman." saito said, glancing over at skip.

"done deal!" skip said and pulled a canteen from his back, where it had been hooked underneath the sword.
taking a long draught, he fixed marcus with a stare, sizing him up. the next second, he was three feet from marcus, swinging his immense sword. Leo rolled out of the way and marcus brought the jackal up in an arc, catching skip's broadsword right in the middle.

"well that's strange, I’d heard rumors of a man who wields guns this way, but it still comes off a bit odd. isn't that right, 'son of Astor'?"

marcus growled and swung jackal back then down in a two hand swing, driving skip backward. the red sliver in his eyes appeared to wriggle for a moment, and he gripped jackal in his teeth, pulling Sodom and Gomorrah out. his fingers blurred and a solid wall of kinetic shot flew toward skip.

"now this... this is more like it." skip laughed and stepped forward into what can only be described as a dance, his body ducking and twirling, the blade alongside him moving in tandem. not a single shot hit him, and he slowed to a stop, looking down at marcus. "eh, boya, turn around." marcus whipped his head around and nearly lost an eye, as the air behind him was thick with jagged spikes of ice.

"verdammt blode auslander sheisse Essen arschloch!" marcus threw the guns aside and charged, whipping jackal forward and charging it a fraction of a second. "toten sie." he said, and clicked the trigger. skip held up a hand, a ball of water swirling in it, and caught the shot, dissipating it without so much as batting an eye.

"impressive. i secede." skip sheathed his massive sword.

"take back that name, and i won't kill you." Marcus’s hair stood on edge, every follicle shot through with his power.

"done then, marcus right?" he held out a hand, still smiling.

marcus grimaced and the energy shot back into him, leaving no trace that it had ever been there at all. "i'm getting rather sick of that name, call me Bunji." he said, and shook skip's hand

-at the same time-

"I’ve been rather iffy about fighting you." saito said, shifting from one foot to the other. "there are so many rumors about you..."

"then let's... i believe the phrase is 'get down to the brass tacks'. and that makes no sense what so ever..." he slipped limelight back into it's case and tied his hair back again, strangely though, his eyes were still red. "well, come on, i'm waiting."

saito tapped a foot against the floor and appeared to skate across it, switching to the other foot, he kicked off again, picking up speed. terry watched, intrigued, and as such almost missed saito's swing. he'd pulled the staff from it's sheathe and nearly knocked terry in the head with it. but just before it hit, terry flickered and vanished.

"huh..." saito skated to a stop and flicked his staff, the end shot out, revealing that it was collapsible. "right about... here!" he lashed out with it and all of a sudden terry was there, the tip of the staff held tightly between his hands.

"threes a first..." he said and aimed a kick at saito, saito dropped the staff, catching the kick with his own leg and flipping terry before he'd even finished it.

"are you ready? Chiru KAZE!" saito dropped into a sweeping kick, knocking terry off his feet again, and then hit him with a straight legged kick, knocking him skyward.

"leaf rising storm!" saito flickered out sight and appeared below terry, performing what appeared to be several upside down stomp kicks.

"Chiru..." saito flickered out, appearing and disappearing, left, right, front, behind, smashing kicks into terry

"RENGE!" with barely any effort, he covered the other four points, completing a lotus pattern attack, every time delivering a brutal kick to terry.

"cherry blossom..." saito flickered above terry and his leg seemed to glow with a harsh white light, with a quick intake of breath, he smashed a devastating axe kick just between terry's chest and stomach, "EXPLOSION!" as he and terry hit the ground, the energy exploded outward, taking the shape of a thousand cherry blossoms that slowly dissipated.

terry coughed and gasped, "impressive, my turn!" and vanished.

"AZURE STORM VIPER!" he appeared several yards away, charging forward, limelight extended and burning a bright blue again. he stopped a hairsbreadth away from saito, close enough that he could feel the heat of the blade.

saito dropped backward with a padded 'whumph' and wet himself profusely. terry chuckled and sheathed limelight, "passed. welcome to the team." he then fell over backwards as well, "if i didn't heal so fast, i think that might've killed me."

"a-are you okay?" saito stuttered.

"i'm fine, it's you i’m worried about, you look like you just met the grim reaper."

"i thought i did. that mask and your speed just... wow..."

terry replied, "honestly, you're faster than i am, and your kicks... i thought I’d been hit by a truck every time you connected. that's your meta power isn't it?"

"yeah, but what's yours?"

terry was silent for a moment, "...i think it's that red light..."


at that moment, skip and marcus' fight ended as well. from over on the sidelines came a yell, "heeey, what about me?!" kin stood, legs akimbo, looking very left out.

terry stood up and motioned to him, and the other three moved to the side of the room. kin leaned his head forward and grasped something behind him and underneath his shirt. when he pulled it out it was revealed to be a long, thin knife, completely translucent and very lethal. "my rapture."

he dropped into an epee fencer's pose and began striking at terry. terry caught the blows on limelight's scabbard, and pressed forward. spotting an opening, he whipped limelight out of it's case. the blow caught kin directly in the chest, cutting straight through him, apparently without a mark... kin flashed a grin and in a blur of movement cut terry's sword hand several times.

"WHOA!" terry yelped, dropping limelight and shaking his left hand until the cuts healed up, "that was a freebie."

"HA!" he stabbed at kin with a ramrod straight arm, two fingers pointing straight out and kin dropped through the floor. a moment later he was behind terry, slashing wildly.

"alright, passed." kin laughed and made to return rapture to the sheathe on his back, his eyes widened as he noticed it wasn't there, and then his eyes went lower, and he shrieked as he realized he'd phased completely out of his clothes. with a terrified look, he dropped through the floor.

he appeared a few moments later, walking through the main door, red all over, but fully dressed, if a little rumpled.

Dante watched the proceedings with an amused look on his face, "well, Hephaestus, is this your doing as well?"

shinji shot him a glare that said a lot, and turned back to the center of the room. at that moment, will stormed past, shouldering kin out of his way. he aimed a savage kick at the main door, knocking it clean off it's hinges, and for the next several minutes the sounds of other doors being similarly dispatched echoed up the stairwell.

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will left the building in a huff, a scowl splitting his face, twisting the jagged scar across his cheek.

"what the fucking hell do you want!?" he screamed at the mousy man who fell in step beside him.

"my employer wishes to-"

"shut the fuck up, tell your boss to shove a mop up his ass. your people failed, i have no power, I'm not affiliated with the house, and i'm not about to serve the man i'm helping to kill!"

"wi-" the man got cut off by a fist smashing into his face.

"i said, 'shut the fuck up!' i owe your little charnel house nothing. so don't even think of pulling that card."

the man mumbled something that sounded like 'magic', his hands covering an obviously broken nose.

"ignorant little shit!" this time, will's punch was a total k.o. and he stomped off, leaving the prone body behind.

a few minutes later another man fell in step beside him. this one wearing a shock of very white hair and cheap purple sunglasses.

"this is certainly new, the living corpse himself bowing out to some second rate vigilante." freed laughed, seemingly oblivious to will's mood.

"coming from the holy order's number one traitor that means little."

"i'm no traitor, i'm UNDA COVAH BRUTHA, number one in the hood yo."

"what the hell are you trying to say, halfwit." a vein began to throb at will's temple.

"i received orders from the order to extend an invitation-" he didn't finish, as the blade of one of will's knives tickled the back of his throat.

will pressed it inward a little as he spoke, to get across the message, "i just turned down the house, why the HELL do you think i'm gonna take you up?"

freed gagged around the knife and replied, "the perks: a substantial payment, temporary membership within the order, and better life insurance."

will's face contorted and he breathed deeply, trying not to scream, "bad joke freed."

"i was also told that if you didn't comply, your family was to be used to persuade you. specifically, them joining the massed ranks of the dead." freed wore a pleasant smile as he said this, totally nonchalant.

"so fucking what.." will turned and began to walk off.

"what about that little filly that you seem so interested in, what was her name, something caswell..."

will whipped around and began pulling out knives, without even a seconds thought, he charged and began planting them in freed, one handful after another. freed just snickered and then with a shout, his lightning came to life, blowing away every knife.

"so whaddaya say boyo?"

"up your's, and your order's." the next thing freed knew, the butt end of a pool stick had clocked him right between the eyes.

will rifled through the unconscious man's pockets, and found his billfold. "seventy. what a high roller... consider this my version of being a nice guy." he took the cash, dropping freed's wallet in his lap and whacked him upside the head one more time for good measure.

"buhbye, asshole." he balanced the pool stick on one shoulder and walked off.


a few minutes later, freed opened his eyes, "sucker." his features began to wriggle, changing to a younger and more handsome face, following which, his hair began to fill in from white to brown.

Corsica chuckled as he waited for his healing factor to heal his bruises, "getting my jollies on with that shape shifter was well worth it... what's this?" he noticed his wallet sitting in his lap, "oh... that is insult to injury... now what the hell was the point of antagonizing him again? oh yersh." he made a rather odd face, "paranoia. after all, i can't run the slight risk of him joining the order. ano-no-otoko would not be pleased..." a fleeting look crossed his face, one with just a touch of fear.

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-back at Leon’s hideout-

terry sat on the floor, divested of his pants and mask he looked very much like a toddler. the rest of the group sat in a circle dressed similarly, except for Leo, he kept his pants on, blushing furiously and looking tiny on marcus' lap. shinji and Dante stayed clothed as well, since they didn't wear diapers. but skip and ocoa towered over the group, exceptionally tall, even for their ages.

skip had turned out to be incontinent as well, and his diaper was yellowed all the way across the front. saito sat beside him, a half smile on his face, waiting.

"from this point on i'm just gonna improvise, because I’ve never done this kind of thing before." terry blushed slightly as he spoke, "i think we should tell a little bit about ourselves, so we can get to know each other better. any volunteers?"

kin waved his hand in the air, "can i go first?"

Wow. This is a good story. Aside from gramatical and formating stuff, this is excellent!

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fave char?

Can't decide between Skippa and Terry.

..... no one seems to like will.....

He's cool. Just not my favorite one is all. I still think Kin is hillarious!