Come For the Tea, Stay For the Party ✯✯ (M/F) (IM, PM or Thread RP Search)

Note: So this plot idea is fairly basic, admittedly, and was inspired from a manga I read... It's mostly smutty but story could be added to it without much problem, I think... (I really need to think of a better title for this plot, too. )
Pairing: Brother/sister
Action: Consensual
Plot: A brother often teases his sister in various ways (it could be an older brother/younger sister, younger brother/older sister, twins, whatever), usually in ways that would be considered sexual harassment, but never anything too terrible... He does it mostly just to tease and embarrass her, and she might be a bit of a shy girl herself, so it doesn't take much teasing to embarrass her. He believe it's just harmless fun, he doesn't particularly mean to be mean, but, obviously, he's driving her crazy.

Their bedrooms are next to each other, only separated by a wall. One day when he's moving things around in his room, he moves his dresser and discovers a hole in the wall, and when he peaks through it he sees his sister in her room. Getting a rather mischievous idea, one that he knows will really freak her out and rile her up, he decides to slip his manhood through the hole, and he makes some teasing remark in the process. His sister, obviously startled by a penis coming through her wall, is rather weirded out and embarrassed by it... But just when the brother thinks that he has really outdone himself with his teasing, he's surprised to feel something on him and quickly realizes that his sister is sucking on him. Perhaps it's her way of retaliating to his teasing, or perhaps she's a bit perverted herself, whatever the case may be she does quite a job on him, and she finds that she really enjoys sucking him and teasing his erection, she enjoys the taboo of it, how wrong it is, it thrills her and him as well.

This continues on for a while-- he sticks himself through the hole and she eagerly plays with it, grinds herself on it, and whatever else, but it isn't long before he wants to go all the way with her, but she refuses, saying that playing with him is one thing, but sex is something they just can't do. Perhaps she's also embarrassed and doesn't want to look him in the face as she teases him, the wall providing her a protecting barrier. Frustrated, her brother decides that he wont let her have his length anymore, which in turn gets her all frustrated-- she no longer has the thrill of her brother's taboo penis that excites her so much-- and try as she might she just can't get him to put himself through the hole again, and he doesn't make things any easier when he masturbates on the other side of the wall, giving her a good view of what she wants when she peaks through the hole.

Finally, after a few days of this pass, she can't take it anymore and goes to his room, wanting just to touch him again... She's so turned on now that she might not be thinking entirely straight. It doesn't take much convincing before they're having sex like wild animals, and both are enjoying every moment of it. What will their new relationship lead them to?

Alteration: The idea could also be modified by getting rid of the glory hole aspect, and he could just whip himself out in front of her one day, and she, having enough of his teasing and wanting to do something that might weird him out just as much as he has done to her, starts playing with his stiffness. Or something.

Note: While I imagine this story to have a lot of smut in it, it would also have a good amount of story. I also imagine this to be a sci-fi futuristic setting, but it could be put into modern or something else quite easily.
Pairing: Brother/sister
Action: Non-consensual turns into consensual
Plot: A galactic police officer is on the hunt for a particular criminal who he's been after for years: a sly and cunning female who always wears a mask. No one knows what she really looks like, no one knows what her name is, they only know her alias, and honestly, she wouldn't be such a wanted criminal if it wasn't for one thing... A heist that went wrong. Before, she was just a small-time criminal, robbing small stores or houses or starships, taking some valuables but never hurting anyone, but one time she went a bit too far and made a mistake when she tried to rob a civilian transport, and her mistake ended up costing the lives of everyone on that civilian transport... including the lives of the officer's wife and unborn child.

The criminal has been on the run ever since and the officer has a personal vendetta against the woman who ruined his life but always seems to slip through his fingers and remains one step ahead of him. Finally he gets his chance he had been waiting for after following up on a lead, and he steps up a trap for her, which she falls into, much to his glee (and surprise). While most officers would simply arrest her and cart her off to jail, he has other plans... After years of stewing on his anger and hatred for the woman who took everything from him, he had concocted a rather devious (albeit flawed) plan to make her give him back at least a little of what he lost... He would rape her and get her pregnant, she would give him a child just like the the child she took from him, and give him the sexual pleasure he had not had since his wife's death. So, after capturing her, he goes about his plan and does just that... he rapes her and, presumably, impregnates her... But after the deed is done he finally removes her mask, curious as to her true identity, and to his horror he realizes that the criminal is, in fact, his beloved sister who he hadn't seen in years after she went off to college.

For all those years after the accident that took his wife and unborn child, his sister had felt horrible for being the one that had killed them, even accidentally. She doesn't blame him for taking her and impregnating her, and she isn't entirely angry, and tells him that she sees it as a way to repay her sins. He realizes the terrible thing he's done, and to his own sister at that, and now he's the one who feels terrible... Now they've both committed a terrible sin. Now, with only each other to count on, the two start a romantic and loving, beautiful relationship as something more than just sister and brother.

Alteration: Their relationship could be something other than brother and sister... Perhaps they were once childhood friends or they were friends who went to the same police academy, or something else.

Pairing: Male Pokemon Ranger/female Pokemon
Action: Consensual
Plot: For this one I don't really have a solid plot for yet, but if anyone is interested I'm sure we could work something out. My basic idea was that a Pokemon Ranger either saves a female Pokemon from some sort of danger, or she might save him, or they could meet some other way, and she becomes his partner Pokemon... But they quickly become more than just partners and find themselves falling for one another and become lovers. The Pokemon could even be a Psychic type and is able to communicate with the male, or it was part of some sort of experiment and can speak a human language because of it, or perhaps she can speak to him telepathically after they've united and have "become one", or the Pokemon might be able to speak to him at all, whichever. Though it seems like it would be easier to role play them with the ability to communicate with each other at some point, even if it's not right away.

I imagine the role play to have a good amount of story and also quite a bit of smutty stuff to it. If desired, pregnancy could also be involved where the female Pokemon might become pregnant with the Ranger's child. I suppose that would make the child a sort of Gijinka. I also envision the female Pokemon to be an actual Pokemon and not a Gijinka, but I wouldn't be against a Gijinka.

Note 1: I imagine this as a role play with a lot of cute romance tied in with lots of kinky sex. The female character could either be living on her own or, which could be interesting, with her parents, which means she has to try to hide the male character from them and keep her relationship a secret, which isn't always easy when she's deep in the most wonderful sex anyone could ever dream of. I also imagine that, as time goes on and she spends more time with the male character, her confidence begins to increase and she gets more daring and brave out in the world, finding it easier to make friends and have fun out there. Pregnancy could also be brought in if desired but it isn't required.
Note 2: If an interested partner prefers, I wouldn't mind this being a furry role play. Or even the male character could be a furry and the female character is a human-- perhaps she was playing an erotic visual novel about furries? Whatever. I'm not too picky.
Pairing: Male game character/female human
Action: Consensual
Plot:The female character is a shy, quiet, perhaps "dorky" young lady who keeps to herself and doesn't have too many friends, and she has no boyfriend, she's far too shy for that. Though she has a deep yearning for interaction with people, she longs for physical contact, and she even dreams of falling in love. But she's so shy that she doesn't know how to go about this, or even have the confidence to do so. She might be nothing more than your cliche geeky girl who's closed off in her own world, surrounded by a shell she has created to protect herself from the world around her. Perhaps she became this way years ago after a traumatic experience with a friend, or after being humiliated by a boy she admitted her feelings of love to, or perhaps she is just naturally reclusive.

Her main joy in life is video games, video games that she plays for hours each day. Her favorite type of video game just so happens to be visual novels of the erotic variety, of which she usually imagines herself as the heroine, surrounded by all of the lovely male characters in the game, and imagines herself as the heroine as she gets pleasured by all of those handsome men. But it's just a game, a fantasy, and it does little to ease her loneliness... That is until one night when she's playing her favorite erotic visual novel (or perhaps the newest release of an erotic visual novel?) during a dark and dreary stormy day. Lightning strikes nearby, causing a power surge that fizzles out her television and causes a temporary blackout of her room/apartment. When the lights come back on she can't believe her eyes: standing before her is one of the game's characters, the character she was just being intimate with in-game, and he's there, flesh and blood, and stark naked!

Obviously, she's completely taken aback by this turn of events, embarrassed, shy, and so many other things. The male, however, sees her as the game's heroine, his lover, and treats her as such. What will she do with this gorgeous guy in front of her, ready to give her the love and pleasure she's been craving for so very long?

Note: This is just a rough idea and can be modified to fit whatever taste an interested partner may have. For this role play, I imagine it as a more of a cute romance role play, though a "cute romance" between a father and his daughter, and possibly, later, bringing the daughter's friend in as well.
Pairing: Father/daughter
Action: Consensual
Plot: A father has been raising his child, his only child, a girl, all by himself (it could either be that his wife has died or has left him/divorced him) and it hasn't been the easiest thing to do. Raising a child as a single parent is tough, but he's done his best for her and raised her to the best of his ability. But between work and raising his child he has little time for anything else, especially something like dating, which proves to be rather frustrating for the once sexually-active man. His daughter realizes this and knows how hard he has been trying for her, and how lonely he must feel, and she begins to grow closer to him to try to help him cope with the loneliness he is feeling. Over time, they become closer until it finally happens... They spend a night in bed together making beautiful love.

Now everything has changed for them. Now neither of them are lonely and they're started a wonderful relationship as something more than just father and daughter. Their compatibility with each other is perfect-- was this always meant to be? Is she the lover he has been searching for for his entire life, and is he the boyfriend she's been wishing for? Things might escalate with them becoming more daring in their sexual escapades, they might find themselves "addicted" to each other's body, and sooner or later she might even find herself pregnant with her father's child. The daughter might even confess to her best friend about the relationship she has with her father, and the curious friend wants to join in. Perhaps the friend becomes something of a "pet" for the father and daughter to enjoy?

There's a lot that can be discussed, altered, added, removed and so on from this idea. Though I would definitely love to add the pregnancy in to it if possible.

Note: The male character doesn't necessarily have to be human, he can be something else, I just thought that it might work best. Also, it would probably be possible to switch the roles around somehow so that the female is the human and the male is the demon, if desired.
Pairing: Male human/female demon
Action: Consensual
Plot: The queen of the demon realm has been overthrown, and she wont take this defeat easily. After some digging she discovered that a particular human male has a rather interesting trait about him: he is one of the very few humans that has an innate magical ability (which he may or may not know about), and one that can help her regain the throne. The problem is that this power is strongest in his seed. Unwilling to dirty her hands with extracting the human's seed herself, she sends one of her underlings to do the deed. This young demoness, a trust underling, goes to the human world and after finding the human begins finding ways to extract his essence, perhaps by doing things to him while he sleeps at first. She may be too shy, embarrassed or reluctant to try anything other than stroking him until he bursts. After he does, she collects his seed in a container that is sent off to the demon realm for the dethroned queen to consume and increase her power. The queen will need a lot of this seed, and the underling has her work cut out for her.

Of course, it isn't long before she's discovered by the human, but being a horny young man himself, he lets her continue, anyway. It feels good and the dating scene hasn't been kind to him so he can't really complain to a cute girl stroking him until he bursts, even if she is a demon. The demoness underling soon begins to realize that she enjoys toying with him and gets more daring and tries other things to make him release his essence, and for some time this continues, and she sends a fair amount of his seed to the queen. But what happens when the demoness begins to fall in love with the human and questions sending his seed to the queen? What happens when she begins to feel bad about lying to him about her reasons for being there, what she's doing with his cum? And what will happen when she realizes that she actually wants to keep his seed all to herself? Surely the queen wont be happy when her supply of power ceases... And what of the human? Will he be able to love the demoness who has been lying to him and using his power to increase the strength of an arguably evil creature-- the queen?

Note: This role play may or may not lead into a romantic plot, either way is fine with me. Romance might be kind of cute, though.
Pairing: Male/Female
Action: Consensual
Plot: A girl (either by herself or with some friends) plays a game similar to Bloody Mary where she/they try to call in a spirit from another realm. She is skeptical at best but goes along with the game-- a curious little thing indeed. Much to her surprise, when the "game" concludes, it seems to have worked and a spirit from another realm seems to have been brought into her world. Even more surprising is the fact that this creature doesn't seem to be a spirit at all but rather a demon. An incubus (male succubus) to be exact! The incubus possesses the girl and attaches himself to her, and now she finds herself living with and sharing her house with a demon who feeds on sexual energy, a fact that she might have to keep hidden from her friends and family.

Of course, this incubus needs sexual energy to survive-- sure, human food helps prolong his need for energy but it doesn't do away with it, it wont sate his hunger complete and in the end it wont keep him alive-- he needs to have sex with the girl to survive. But there's a problem: he himself has been cursed by a demon from his realm. He can't simple force himself onto her. He can not engage in sexual activities, thus saving his life, unless his partner his willing and wants to. He can barely even touch her! This incubus will have to try anything he can, even perverted things, in order to get the girl's attention and try to get her interested in him, and hopefully get her to invite him into her bed.

Note: This story stars a Sith during the Old Republic era (about 3000 years before Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope) but is something a little different from the usual Sith-related role plays. Right now the plot is rough but we can flesh it out, and I can see the possibility of not only some steamy romance but also action and adventure as well.
Pairing: Male/Female
Action: Consensual
Plot: In a time where the Galactic Republic and Sith Empire are caught in a brutal war, a dark Sith apprentice has been sent out by her master to scour the galaxy for some ancient Sith artifacts (or perhaps to hunt down and kill some targets), but without a starship of her own she has no choice but to head to the local cantina in hopes of finding a pilot willing to take her on the long planet-hopping journey. She finds one who is willing, for the right price, and they set off to begin her adventure.

From there we can feel out what happens, but one way or another the Sith female and the male smuggler get together and start having some fun in private. It could, perhaps, start out as simply a way to pass the time between the long journeys between planets, or maybe as they spend time together they begin to grow closer and one thing leads to another. Whatever the case, soon enough they realize something somewhat shocking: they're fallen in love with each other. The Sith is understandably conflicted: she's a Sith apprentice and while love is not forbidden in the Sith Order like it is for the Jedi, falling in love with someone as "unworthy" as a smuggler, especially one that isn't very comfortable with the the Sith Order's twisted and brutal ways, would be seen as an insult to most Sith and would no doubt get both of them punished or even killed. So she has to make a decision: will she stay with the man she's fallen in love with and abandon the evil ways she has grown up with since she was a child, or will she leave the smuggler to continue her journey toward become a Sith Lord?

If desired pregnancy could be involved, and that could even be another thing that she is conflicted with, perhaps. Also, it would be a dream (i.e. it would be awesome) if gokkun and/or cum play could be incorporated into the role play, but this isn't required.

Note: This story could take place either during the Clone Wars (could be set around Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and so on) or during the Old Republic era (about 3000 years before Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope). Either one works for me, so whatever you prefer. Right now the plot is rough but we can flesh it out, and I can see the possibility of not only some steamy romance but also action and adventure as well. This plot is similar to the one above but with a Jedi instead of a Sith.
Pairing: Male/Female
Action: Consensual
Plot: A young Jedi Padawan has been sent off by her master on her first solo mission (or she could be a Jedi Knight sent off on a mission by the Council) to locate some ancient artifacts on various planets, or perhaps to negotiate trade arrangements with the local planetary governments, or to gather information on an enemy plan/weapon, or something else, the reasons for her planet-hopping mission can be decided by us. Whatever the case, in hopes of traveling without raising too much suspicion, she hires a smuggler to transport her from planet to planet. The journeys are long and they spend much time together and without entirely realizing it they grow closer and closer.

Soon enough they find themselves sharing a bed. This could be because she might be curious about sex, despite the Jedi insisting that such desires are wrong and lead a path to darkness but she can't seem to sate her curiosity, especially when a handsome male is so close by (which might be kind of cute, a Jedi curious about sex), or it might be because as they grow closer one thing leads to another... Or I'm sure we could think of other things if preferred. Whatever the case, they end up having sex, and perhaps a good deal of sex throughout their trip, and soon realize that they've fallen in love with each other. Love is, of course, something forbidden by the Jedi Order. Now the young lady will have a difficult decision to make: will she stay with the man she's in love with and leave the only thing she really knows, the Jedi Order that she's grown up with since she was a child, or will she leave the man she loves to return to the Jedi and try to forget that her feelings and the pleasures ever existed?

If desired pregnancy could be involved, and that could even be another thing that she is conflicted with, perhaps. Also, it would be a dream (i.e. it would be awesome) if gokkun and/or cum play could be incorporated into the role play, but this isn't required.

Tea and rum. Tea and rum. Tea and rum, tea and rum, tea and rum. Tea. And. Rum. That was what it was all about, wasn't it? Wasn't that what it was really all about? This... this life, this house, this... place. Tea and rum. It had to be. It just had to.

Or did it? What if it was about something completely different? Something else that Hatter hadn't even considered? Something so peculiar and spectacular that it hadn't even crossed his mind yet. What if it was about something else entirely?

What if it was about... that day...? That day that he could barely even remember?
Even now he could still feel the scorching heat of flames against his skin leaving him permanently scarred, the clattering and shattering of splintering wood structures, the horrid cries for help and pleadings for mercy, the smell of smoke and of liquid mercury. And yet he could see no one, it was as though he was lost in an endless abyss of black. He could hear himself calling out through the thunderous sounds, but his voice was lost. Calling, calling...

He woke with a startle and found himself sitting in a rickety wooden chair by a similarly rickety-looking table. He must have dozed off. That certainly was a problem, nodding off like that, because whenever he did, he had that same dream. But it wasn't a dream. It was so much more than just a dream. Or at least he tried to convince himself that it was more than a simple flight of imagination during slumber. The scars upon his chest felt real enough, but that dream seemed so bizarre, so strange, so abnormal that it felt like it could not possibly hold any fact at all. In the dream he could not see a thing, making him wonder if it was even real at all. The blood he felt soaking his hands made him believe that he was both the victim and the cause of that terrible "thing", whatever it was, but was that even possible? What was he not remembering?

Hatter shrugged it off. Nothing but another nightmare probably brought on by some bad cheese, spoiled bread or perhaps some expired tea.

No! He could never, ever, blame the tea!

When he wasn't doing anything, especially when he wasn't doing anything, his mind had a habit of wandering (more so than normal, anyway), and that, too, was a problem all of its own. Because when his mind wandered it always went back to that same place. That same questionably real memory in which he had been trying so desperately to force from his mind for as long as he could, or could not, remember.

He was doing nothing.

He stopped and thought about that for a moment.

"Well, I suppose I'm not really doing nothing," he said aloud, placing a finger to his lips most thoughtfully. "Because if I am doing nothing, than I am doing something. Because nothing is something. Even though that 'something' is nothing, and that nothing is something, nothing is nothing and something is something. Nothing, something-- something and nothing. I am a world of nothing, and a crumb of something. My something is nothing, and yet my nothing is something."

He spoke most matter-of-factly as if he was having a conversation with someone, though there was no one else in his tiny little cabin. Well, no one alive, anyway. "I am nothing, but I am something... Isn't that something?"

His name was Hatter, or at least that was what everyone called him, though some did call him the "Mad Hatter". He wasn't entirely sure why people would call him "mad", after all he was rarely angry, cross or even miffed. He was rarely mean, rarely cruel, rarely "mad". One had to be of sane mind to be able to be angry, and even he knew that he was far from sane.

...Oh, maybe that was why they called him "mad". Interesting.

Well, either way, such single and one-sided conversations like in which Hatter had just jabbered on about were something of quite frequency with the young man. He found few better to talk with than with nothing. After all, nothing could say anything back to you, nothing could make any snide remarks to you, and nothing could neither agree nor disagree with you. Nothing was quite relaxing, was quite easy. And that was what Hatter liked. He liked nothing. And yet he liked everything, too.

There was, however, one person who Hatter enjoyed talking with more than the nothing, someone who Hatter was wholly fascinated by and, like it or not, found himself quite smitten with. But who she was exactly he could not recall. Whether she was real or just another spark of imagination he could not say for certain, And yet he loved her, truly. He loved her with all he head, with as much as a Hatter could love, which was quite an impressive amount, if he did say so himself. He loved Alice. The one person who would never leave him, and the one person he trusted.

Speaking of Alice...

He reached over and looped his right index finger through the thin handle of a white porcelain teacup and brought the small cup to his lips. He could smell the warm liquid that he had filled it with before nodding off: a strong mixture of tea and rum, a concoction which he himself had invented, and which only few could actually stomach. It was strong, bitter, tangy, earthy and yet very alcoholic-tasting. He quite enjoyed it. It soothed his fractured soul and helped dilute his shattered mind to help him forget what he wished to forget, or wished not to forget, or forget what he forgot, or... something like that. Either way, it helped dissolve the pain that may or may not be stemming from any factual event.

He parted his pale lips, tilted the cup, and let the liquid flow past his teeth, over his tongue, and down his throat. After swallowing down about half of it, he lowered the cup back down. Now, onto more important matters.

Alice.

There was something about Alice. Something missing, and something he couldn't quite figure out. Alice was a mystery to him, perhaps as much as he was a mystery to her, and for as long as he had known her she was missing something. But what was she missing? Not only that, but it seemed to be something she, herself, was looking for. But what? She was far more complete than he could ever hope to be. She was something, she was full of "muchness", which he knew that he lacked. But besides her "muchness" there was something about her that he just couldn't put his finger on.

He brought the teacup back to his lips and swallowed down the remaining bit of hot tea-rum, and let his thoughts roll through his surprisingly cluttered mind.

Something... Something...

And suddenly he shot up onto his feet and stood straight and tall. He barely even felt the porcelain mask tied to him by a violet ribbon smack into his left shoulder.

"Ah-ha!" he shouted loudly, and tossed the fragile teacup at the hard wooden floor. He didn't bother to watch the magnificent explosion of porcelain shards fly about-- it had been a sight he had seen quite often, and the countless pieces of countless broken teacups scattered all across the floor of his small home were proof of that. "I've got it! Alice!"

With much fervor and determination Hatter stomped confidently from his room. He had figured it out. He had finally figured it out, he had discovered what Alice was missing, and he could even help! Now he just needed to find her, and he knew exactly where she would be: where she always was. That was a peculiar thing about Alice: she never left her spot. Maybe that was where she felt most comfortable, and if so, he could not fault her for that. Though how she could just stand in place all the time and not get tired was beyond him. Perhaps she rested when he was not looking?

Hatter took a right and trotted down the hallway. It was just a short hallway, barely worth the name, and at the end he took another right to enter into another room that was somewhat smaller than the one he had been in previously. It was a bedroom, and despite the size it was the largest bedroom in the house. The bed was made as it always was, the floor was dusty but showed little signs of use and the only footprints in the dust were those of his own, though he barely noticed that fact, and cobwebs hung in every corner of the room. Perhaps Alice liked spiders, that was the only reason he could think of why she would keep those nasty little creatures around.

He spotted the fair Alice standing in the corner of the room, the same place she always stood in-- no doubt it was her favorite spot in the entire house.

"Alice! Alice, I've discovered it!" Hatter declared, waving his arms about like a flamboyant pirate as he stepped up to the young lady. Once he was within two feet of her he stopped, clenched his fingers, released them, and brought his hands down a bit. And then, as he spoke, he began to manuever them around in a rather unpredictable manner. Talking with his hands was another one of Hatter's "charming" quirks.

"What you need, my dear Alice..." he said, then paused as if for dramatic effect. He raised his hands up and then swept them downward and stretched them across his body most brilliantly. "Is a hat! A nice, big hat!"

He tapped the brim of his top hat with his left middle finger; but then as the words began to sink into him, he stopped again, brought his right index finger back to his lips. Now that he really thought about it perhaps that wasn't really what Alice was lacking.

"Well, now it jus' sounds stupid..." he admitted and gave a nod of his head. "It sounded better in my head-- but doesn't everything?

"But ev'ry lady needs a big, fancy hat, does she not? I can make you one, I assure you, and..."

He paused after a moment, took in a breath, and let it out slowly. "Why will you not say anything to me, my dear?" He asked, brought his hand up to stroke her soft canvas face, and brushed aside a strand of her golden wig hair. "Was my idea truly that distasteful? I apologize if I have offended you, love, I meant no harm..." He pulled lightly at the frilly collar of her dress to straighten it.

"Please, my Alice, will you not say anything to me? Why are you so quiet? Are you angry with me?" he asked, his voice softening and saddening, his eyes pleading with her to answer and entirely unable to see that the "Alice" standing before him was nothing but a mannequin. Yes, the Alice whom he lived with, who he shared his life with and had countless conversations with was nothing but a lifeless, faceless fabric mannequin that he himself had dressed up in a frilly blue dress, white stockings and ankle-high black shoes; something that could not reply to him. And yet Hatter could not see that, could not see the truth, and simply loved his Alice with all of his heart, for in his eyes this thing was a real, living person who was beautiful, kind, and loving. She was the woman that every woman wanted to be, and the woman every man wanted to be with, and the type of woman that Hatter knew that he did not deserve.

"O-oh... you mus' be tired," he said, trying to add a cheerful tone to his voice. "I see. I will leave you be, than... But do think about my offer, yes?"

He moved closer and placed a light kiss to the mannequin's canvas forehead. "Please, rest easy, my dear. I will check in on you in a li'l while."

With that, Hatter bowed politely and stepped from the room, shut the door behind him. Once he heard the door lock, he leaned himself back against it, let out a soft, sad sigh, and felt his heart, or what was left of it, sink even lower. Sometimes Alice could be so mean... Did she even love him anymore?

"Tell me, Alice...," he began, his voice but a whisper, his hand clutching his heart, "Why is a heart jus' like a vase...?"

A hill overlooking the small town below. A light breeze that made the grace dance and would tickle one's skin. Leaves in the trees behind rustling, singing a low, slow melody of the woods. Here one could see the entire town and even the shore and the glimmering sea surrounding the island. Here one could be at peace, get away from the town that was as busy as it was strange, and simply be alone. Here one could run away from their problems-- or, as this case was, lack of problems-- and feel as though time had stood still, even though it was quite obvious that it had not.

And that was where he was at the moment. He sat in the cool grass, his legs bent, knees about to his chest, his eyes gazing over the town below. He could make out the people pacing the streets, who looked like teeny, tiny toys from this distance. But wasn't that what this place really was, just a big toy box for some strange and powerful god who liked to play with the souls of the departed?

It did not matter.

Who was "he"? He was a young man, who would be about twenty-three, if he were still alive. He was tall, fit, and relatively well-groomed despite his somewhat rustic appearance. Short brown hair and matching closely-shaven goatee, golden eyes, and skin that could just barely (if at all) be called tanned, dressed in a green suit shirt, white an black vest and matching shoes,black pants, and black studded tie, to some he might look like a shop-owner or some other merchant, but he was far from that. He was an officer of the law-- a police officer-- though he wasn't sure why he required such a position here, or even how he got it. When he woke up just a few weeks ago on this island he knew that his appointed position was that of an officer, somehow he knew that, though he had no idea how. Still, this place, this curious little island that the people here called "Elthia" (though "weird island" seemed to be a better name for it, in his opinion), seemed to have little use for such a position. Sure, there were the occasional heated arguments, the rare thefts here and there, but nothing major, nothing that the citizens themselves could not work out; having an actual "police officer"-- not to mention a police station-- seemed completely unneeded and pointless.

Unneeded and pointless just like him.

His name was Enzio Lo Iacono, and the fact was that he could not remember much of his previous life. He could remember bits and pieces, some of them in a relatively random order, but very few complete memories. Even more puzzling was how exactly he died, or why he died; the only clues he had relating to his death was a small box of matches that read "Springroad Motel 5:20 PM", as well as the scars upon his chest: one long gash reaching from the top of his left pectoral down to the upper right side of his waist and two deep an round scars near where his beating heart once resided.

He was dead, Enzio knew that for sure. Deceased, and there was no changing that. But his clouded, jumbled memory made him wonder if any of his presumed past had ever been real in the first place, had he ever really been alive or was it all just some dream that he himself had concocted?

It did not matter. Not now.

Sighing aloud, Enzio loosened his torso and let himself fall back onto the grass. It crunched under the weight of his back. He rolled his head just a bit, working out the kinks in his neck, and let his eyes stare up into the sky. Such a strange place this was.

He was bored. Bored like he was mostly every day. There was never anything for interesting to do here when you were used to a life of car chases, shoot-outs, investigations and hostage negotiations. When you were used to laying down the powerful fist of the law on. If any of that had ever been real, that is.

Beside him sat a small box of juice that he had already pierced the top of with the accompanying straw, and the box pictured a strawberry and a banana, both with goofy cartoon grins, giving a hint as to the flavor of the drink. Enzio reached over and took the box into his right hand, brought it closer and the straw to his lips, took a sip.

Ah, the simple pleasures of a juicebox. It was childish perhaps, but when there was so much on his mind-- or so little, or pretty much any other time-- Enzio felt himself easily comforted by the simplicity of a juicebox. Granted the darned things didn't hold much so they could hardly quench the thirst of a grown man, but when it came to easing his nerves a box or two did just fine.

Unfortunately, this one was already over half finished. And with just a few sips more he had polished it off. He had another couple on his person as he always had at least four with him whenever he went out, but he didn't rightly feel like whipping out another one. Not yet.

Enzio remained where he was for a little while more before he finally decided that he had laid around enough, and he stood up, dusted himself off, and began the slow journey back down the hill toward the town. The juicebox had been crushed, and he tossed it back over his shoulder and heard it hit the grass somewhere behind him.

Korriban. A desert world and capital planet of the Sith Empire. It was an ancient world and countless Sith artifacts lay hidden around the vast, sandy landscape. It was a harsh, cruel world, just like the Sith themselves. It was a place few people who didn't align themselves with the Sith ideals ventured, and was restricted to any Republic forces as per the Treaty of Coruscant. Even so, a tiny glimmer of light could be spotted coming from right in the middle of an Imperial blockade surrounding the planet space, and that glimmer quickly grew larger and larger until it was clear: it wasn't a star, nothing of the sort, it was a spaceship. An XS light freighter, to be exact. It was being followed closely behind by a squadron of Mark XI interceptors that were pelting the hull with blaster cannon fire.
KA-BOOM!
A small spot in on the hull erupted into a shower of sparks and a confetti of shredded metal. Inside the boxy cockpit a humanoid figure could be seen piloting the ship, frantically trying to avoid any further damage from the Imperial forces.
Breaking in through the blockade had been the easy part. Breaking out? Well, that was a completely different matter.
"These little womprats sure don't give up, do they?" the pink-skinned Twi'lek pilot grumbled to himself, taking his left hand off the controls to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow. "Hey, Beta, how are things going back there?"
Away in another section of the ship a small droid hobbled about trying to shift cargo into a more secure location and patching up any damage that occurred within the craft. It wasn't an easy task. The droid looked like nothing more than a box with two legs and two arms, but never judge a book by its cover... This droid have been vastly upgraded and modified from its original GNK power droid specifications. Hidden compartments and weapons and an upgraded AI and personality chip, among some other hidden gems, laid within the stout companion.
GNK-B8T, or more commonly known as Beta, was this little droid. His reply to the pilot was quick, and despite his advanced programming, he still spoke in the usual droidspeak of an underdeveloped model, and in Gonkian no less. While most people would simply hear various tones and pitches of "gonk gonk" sounds, the pilot could understand the droid just fine, with help from an optical cybernetic implant in the Twi'leks left eye.
Beta's reply appeared to the pilot as a form of text that appeared in the pilot's sight.
The text read...

GNK-B8T = doing the best he can // Dejulues = unable to avoid more fire?​

"Hey, if you think you can do a better job piloting, you're more than welcome to give it a shot," the pilot, Dejulues Tze'Midak, snapped back, their voices echoing over the inner ship communication system.

GNK-B8T = unable to pilot ship // GNK-B8T = has no such systems installed.​

"Than shut up and let me do my thing!"
The ship shook again with the damage of another explosion. Activating the turrets, Dejulues rotated the top turret into the rear position and let off a few shots. It was difficult to both aim the turrets and operate the ship at the same time, to say the least, but luckily Dejulues was an excellent pilot. Or, well, at least he told everyone he was an excellent pilot. Whatever the case may be, two rounds of blaster fire managed to take out two ships. Even so, the numbers were still against them.
WHAM!
Anther explosion, a larger one this time. No doubt a hit from a missile. Those enemy pilots weren't playing around! What was worse, as Dejulues noted from the shield display on the cockpit screen, the primary shield had just failed.
"We've just lost the primary shield generator," Dejulues commented, mock calmness in his voice. "I'm going to redirect any power I can to the secondary shield. Beta, there's a plasma leak in engine block A-3, see what you can do with it, okay?"
Though he couldn't see him he knew that the droid was hurriedly moving to fix any damage he could. If nothing else that droid was dependable, no doubt about that. The two were an odd pair, that was without question, and though they often drove each other quite crazy, they were also quite inseparable.
Dejulues heard the droid's "gonk gonk" speech echo over the communication system again.

GNK-B8T = unable to fix the damage in time! // Things are going wrong faster than GNK-B8T can fix them!
GNK-B8T = wondering if it would not be cheaper to just buy a new ship instead of continually providing repairs? // XS freighter Ghostling's Caress = pile of scrap metal!​

"She may not look like much but she's got it where it counts," snapped Dejulues. "This ship and I have been through a lot together. She's like family. I'd rather get rid of you!"

Dejulues = would like that, would Dejulues not?​

The Twi'lek only laughed at that, and spun the ship in an arc in an effort to avoid an incoming missile. Things were getting hairy but, than again, that was just the way Dejulues liked it. If life wasn't fun, wasn't exciting, than what was the point of living it? Life should be an adventure as far as he was concerned.
And if you made a pile of credits on the side than that was just icing on the Corellian sweet-cake!
KA-BOOM! BOOM!
Another explosion, and another. Dejulues could see more fighters coming in from all directions. One thing was for sure, Empire didn't want Dejulues getting his cargo out of there. They weren't making things easy.
"Beta, that plasma leak is flaring up again! Can't you do anything with it?" Dejulues asked, keeping his eyes glued to the displays before him. It seemed that everywhere he looked on the holographic ship display systems that everything-- everything-- was in the red zone. Red was bad, very bad.

GNK-B8T = doing the best he can! // Dejulues = completely useless!
A message is being sent // GNK-B8T = send it through?​

"A message?" Dejulues repeated. A message? Here? Now? "Alright, bring it up on one of the secondary screens."
A moment later one of the small hologram screens, one off to Dejulues' left, flickered to life. Soon enough a figure began to fade into view, colored in the blue hologram light. It was a tall, slender figure, a male Kel Dor, wearing a long, flowing robe. He had a large mask covering most of his face and all of his facial features. It was none other than Jedi Master Gnost-Dural, the one who had hired Dejulues for this assignment.
"Ah, master Jedi... What a pleasant surprise," said Dejulues. It really wasn't.
"Your droid has informed me that you have run into some complications," said the Jedi Master.
Dejulues smirked a bit. "What? This? Nah, this is just a minor misunderstanding. A small miscommunication. Just a small scuffle, really," he replied, a snide and sarcastic tone oozing from his voice.
"I hope for your sake, captain, that your reputation is well-deserved," continued Gnost-Dural, his voice sounded deep, metallic and emotionless through the synthesized audio output of his mask. "You are an illegal, and outlaw, someone that the Jedi Council should not be dealing with. For this assignment we had to make an exception. However, because of this, if you are captured the Council cannot and will not help you. The Council will deny any prior knowledge or connection to you."
"Yeah, yeah, I kinda figured that," Dejulues commented, barely paying attention to the holographic figure next to him as he turned the ship into a nosedive to avoid a head-on collision with an asteroid. Thanks to his last-minute change of course and his quick reflexes he was able to cause one more of the Imperial pursuers to crash into the large rock.
"I guess it's a good thing I wasn't planning on being captured today," he added. "Now, master Jedi, if you don't mind--"
"I hope that you are also aware that these relics you are transporting for us must not be damaged," the Kel Dor Jedi interrupted. "Even the slightest bit of--"
The ship shook and roared from another violent explosion and the communication cut off completely. No doubt the communication array had been hit.
"Boring conversation anyway," Dejulues grumbled and glanced to the right of him, noticing another incoming fighter. He flicked the joystick controlling the top turret, aimed the weapon, and blasted away. The fighter exploded into countless tiny pieces of scrap before it even had a chance to fire back.
It was then that another sight caught his attention, brought on by the loud roaring of an alarm and the bright flashing of red lights. The enemy fighters had done more damage to the ship than Dejulues had thought and there was a power leak in the main reactor. Systems were shutting down as the emergency systems sprang to life. One by one other systems began to flare out of power: secondary shields, coolant systems, gravity field generators...
"Beta, the coolant flap for the third engine has broken loose!" Dejulues shouted over the communication system. If even one engine thruster coolant flap was damaged the engine it was connected to would automatically shut down so that it would not overheat and explode, and while this was a useful safety feature, in matters like this it meant that the ship had one less engine, one less thruster to push it forward, and that meant less speed and less maneuverability. When you were trying to escape from people who wanted to capture you-- or kill you-- you needed all the speed you could get. "See if you can lock it down, would you?"
Now a bit of panic was beginning to sound in his voice.
Though he knew that Beta was trying his best to keep things in order he knew that it wouldn't be enough. They had to find a way through this mess and fast or they were going to be in some real trouble.

Oh my! // Oh my! // Oh my!​

The droid kept repeating over and over again. Now Dejulues began to wish he had never installed that personality chip in the stout droid.
"Relax Beta, we're not in trouble yet!" Dejulues replied, though even he wasn't quite convinced of that. But he wasn't going to throw in the proverbial towel just yet.
That is until he heard a loud bang echo in the space around him, like the shot of a flechette round or the detonation of a small hand grenade. Within an instant a gigantic ship appeared before them. Its looming dark triangular mass with its sharp edges that had just exited from hyperspace was unmistakable-- a Harrower-class Dreadnaught-- a gigantic battleship with countless turrets, numerous starfighters, and a sight that would strike fear into most pilots. Dejulues had encountered these behemoths more times than he could remember, but it was still a bit frightening to see one appear almost out of thin air right in front of you.
Almost immediately after the ship left the starlines of hyperspace fighters began to flood from the dreadnaught's dual front hangars. They clearly didn't want Dejulues to get away with his cargo-- whatever it was.
"Okay, maybe now we're in trouble," Dejulues commented, staring somewhat blankly at the immense frigate before him and the dozens of fighters coming his way.

Dejulues + GNK-B8T = doomed! // Dejulues + GNK-B8T = doomed!​

"We're not done yet, I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve!" Dejulues shouted heroicly as he dove in towards the cruiser. However, it wasn't long before he felt the freighter shudder and lurch around him, saw a couple of the monitors nearby flare, heard the engines groan and sputter and struggle. It was something he had experienced many times before.
"They're trying to lock a tractor beam onto us," Dejulues said, as if he was informing an entire crew around him, though it was just him alone in the cockpit. "But they're not gonna get this ship that easily."
Increasing the throttle, the ship speed up, diving in closer and closer towards the cruiser. A tractor beam was a deadly thing indeed, once a ship was caught within its gravitational pull it would be unable to break free and would be drawn in towards the source, prisoner. If the beam operators were skilled they would be able to track a ship without much effort until it was locked in, even a freighter like the Ghostling's Caress, but if Dejulues knew one thing about a tractor beam was that there was one-- and only one-- safe place to go, one place where the tractor beam would be unable to reach, and that was right up against the ship in which the beam was coming from. It was suicidal, deadly at best, to stay so close to any enemy vessel, let alone a battleship dreadnaught like a Harrower-class, but it was the only way.
"I've got a bad feeling about this..." Dejulues muttered under his breath as he continued the dive towards the frigate. The closer he got the closer the laser blasts from the dreadnaught's turrets got to his ship, meaning that his ship was becoming an easier target the closer it got. He could hear Beta "gonking" frantically in the background but tried to pay the droid no mind. The Ghostling's Caress was taking a barrage of fire from the dreadnaught in front and from the squadrons of fighters in the rear; this was going to be a close one.
Closer, closer the XS freighter came, until just at the last moment Dejulues pulled back harshly on the steering console, flipping the nose of the ship upwards, pulling the ship into a violent upwards ascent, and skimming the surface of the neck of the dreadnaught's bridge. While most the pilots closing in behind were able to pull away in time, four weren't so lucky and smashed headlong into the Harrower-class.
Dejulues could hear the creaking and scraping of metal-against-metal as the XS closely skimmed against the surface of the dreadnaught, heard a few loud pops as it sheered off antenna and wires from both vessels, and pulled up a bit more just in time to avoid a collision with the Harrower-class's command deck. So close did the XS shave across the bridge that Dejulues could see the people on the command deck, some scurrying about, others staring back at him, and could even see the thick duraplast windows vibrate as his ship blasted by.
Once the freighter had managed to safely make it across the bridge and to the other side of the ship, Dejulues leveled off the vessel and quickly punched in a few codes into the navigational computer. Waypoints and jump coordinates had already been set, now it was only a matter of activating them, which was a simple feat indeed, but somewhat less so in the ferocity of battle.
"Okay, the coordinates are set!" Dejulues called out. "Hold on, Beta, I'm taking us into hyperspace!"
There was empty space in front of the freighter now that it had cleared the dreadnaught. Dejulues pressed a button and pulled back on the jump lever... He heard the engines flare and roar (and heard the damaged engine sputter pathetically), and within moments the ship launched forward. Stars blurred and blended into lines, space around them bended and shifted into a bright shimmering blue tunnel, and they were off into the safe confines of hyerspace. Well, relatively safe, anyway.

Dejulues slumped back into the pilot's chair and released a loud sigh of relief. He had made it. Somehow he had made it out of that mess. He stretched his neck before standing up and exited the cockpit to check up on Beta.
He found the boxy droid in the cargo hold. The droid had been knocked over at some point during the conflict, and wires and tubes laid out across his frame coming from an open wall panel, sparking and hissing. The droid's legs wobbled and his arms flailed.

GNK-B8T = melting! Melting! // Oh, this is all your fault!​

The droid gonked out its "words". Dejulues chuckled and knelt down beside the droid to help get the little guy out of the mess.

GNK-B8T = overheating! Oh! // If GNK-B8T overheats and deactivates GNK-B8T will find a way to come back as an electric spirit and haunt Dejulues for the rest of his life!​

"Oh, wouldn't want that," Dejulues laughed. "I've already got too many annoying little gnats buzzing around me."

Dejulues = enjoying the thought of GNK-B8T deactivating permanently, no doubt!​

Dejulues smirked.

"Aw, c'mon... if I didn't have you, who would I have to argue with?" he replied, pulling off some wires from the droid, brushing off a hose or two. Finally he helped the droid back up onto its feet. "You wouldn't want my life to get boring, now would you?"

Morning. Bah. Ice King did not feel like waking up, not one bit. But of course it wasn't like he was actually sleeping, anyway... For at least an hour he had been simply laying in his bed, flat on his back, staring up at the silver-blue ice ceiling above him. He was bored, completely and utterly bored, but he also couldn't make up his mind as to what exactly he wanted to do. Clean the castle? Yeah right, that's what penguins were for. Maybe go hit his computer, surf the 'net a bit? Possibly. Play his drums? That didn't sound like much fun right now. Maybe go kidnap a princess? No, even that didn't sound like a very interesting idea. He sighed, groaned, kicked his feet a little. What was wrong with him?

Wait. He didn't feel like kidnapping a princess? Was that even possible? There could be only once explanation: he was sick. Yes, that had to be it! Ice King was sick. Terribly sick. Maybe even dying. That was it for sure!

He groaned, hoping that the sound would alert Gunter, or perhaps one of his other penguin minions, to come to him... But there was no response. He groaned again, louder than before, and waited... Still no response. What did a sick handsome guy have to do to get some service around here? He tried again, groaning even louder than the second time, though now it was more of a scream than an actual groan. Well, whatever worked.

It wasn't long before he could hear the pitter-patter of webbed feet against an icy floor, and Ice King settled himself back into bed as comfortable as he could, and made himself look as sick as he could, just before Gunter entered the room. Gunter squeaked as soon as he entered the room.

"Oohh... G-Gunter? Is that... is that you...?" asked Ice King weakly, holding up a frail hand to beckon the penguin closer. "Come closer..." he coughed. "Oooh, dear Gunter... Kind, loving Gunter... I... I'm dying... He coughed again, then again, though the small penguin didn't seem to be too interested in Ice King's little delusion. "Can you... Get me some soup, dear Gunter? My one final... request..."

Gunter quacked something.

Ice King shifted a little. "Wha...? What was that...?" Another weak cough. Gunter quacked a couple more times.

"I'm... not sick...?" Ice King repeated Gunter's response. "I'm not... sick...? Sick... Sick...
"Wait a minute!" he shouted, shooting up from the bed. "What do you mean I'm not sick and dying!? If I tell you that I'm sick than I'm sick! What, do you think you're some kind of doctor or something!?"

Gunter pulled out a small card that had a picture of him on it, a medical license, in fact. Oh. So he was a doctor. More or less. Where Gunter had pulled the card out from, considering that he had no pockets, wasn't something that Ice King even thought about.

Ice King folded one arm over the other and uttered a disgusted harumph. "Fine. If I'm not sick than what am I, mister super-genius-penguin-doctor-quack-face?"

The small black-and-white penguin didn't take but a moment to respond with a few quacks of various pitches. Ice King listened only half interestedly.

"I'm not sick, I'm 'board'? What do you mean I'm 'board'? Do I look like a piece of wood do you? Stupid penguin..." Ice King muttered. Gunter squawked. "Oh! I'm 'bored'! Well, why didn't you say so before? Of course I'm bored, there's nothing to do!" Slowly he crawled out of bed and stood up straight, brushed himself off. "And I feel perfectly fine; I can't believe you thought that I was sick. Talk about jumping to conclusions. Yeesh!"


After getting something to eat Ice King had made his way outside. It was a bright, lovely day out, with the sun shining warm beams of light down onto his pale blue face, a gentle breeze blowing through he icy valley before him. It made him glad that he wasn't made of ice himself or he would probably melt. If birds lived in the Ice Kingdom he was quite sure that they would be singing on this fine morning... And he was also quite sure that he would probably shoot a bolt of frozen lightning at such annoying pests. ZAP!

Dressed in his finest-- or rather the same thing he always worse-- blue robes and his golden magical crown, Ice King took off into the air with a flap of his beard and soared like a bird through the sky. He rather enjoyed flying, it was such an exhilarating feeling to be able to fly through the air without a care in the world. Why, it felt like freedom, true freedom, even if he himself was far from free thanks to the power of the magic crown atop his head. He was well aware of that.

It wasn't long before Ice King found himself heading toward Finn and Jake's house, the human boy and magical dog, and self-proclaimed adventurers. They had something of a love/hate relationship with him, though perhaps there was more hate than love emanating from Finn and Jake, but they just didn't realize how awesome he was. Ice King was quite sure that once they did realize how rad he really was that they would be beginning him to let them be his friends.

As he neared the large tree house he caught sight of a young woman-- well, she appeared to be young, but she was in fact far from it-- entering the abode: Marceline. The raven-haired was, to him, a rather strange being, and not just because she was a vampire who sucked the color red instead of blood. No, what was strange about her was the feeling he felt when he was around her, some kind of fondness and closeness, some kind of warmth, that he could no quite place and could not figure out. Why did she make him feel that way? What was the meaning behind it? Part of him felt as though there was something he should remember, something very, very important, but for the life of him he could not remember whatever that thing was. And perhaps even stranger yet, she actually liked being around him. Will wonders never cease?

Ice King plopped himself down on top of a grassy hill that overlooked the tree house and fished out a pair of old binoculars had he acquired from... Well, it was probably best not to say exactly where he had found them. He brought the binoculars up to his sky blue eyes and peered through them, gazing upon the magnified view of the area in front of him. He laid down flat onto his stomach, then he made an audible vrrn! Vrrnn! sound as he adjusted the magnification of the binoculars as though they were some sort of digital electronic viewer. Sure enough Marceline had entered the homestead and he scanned the area with the binoculars for any sign of what exactly was going on in there. Soon enough he heard a loud "boo!" echo out from inside of the place. Marceline, Finn and Jake were probably having fun in there, and it seemed as though he wasn't invited to the party... again. And he didn't necessarily feel like crashing the party, either.

"Fine, I know when I'm not wanted," he mumbled to himself before stowing the binoculars and taking off into the air again "I'm too smokin' amazin' to hang out with those dweebs, anyway. Yeah."

Again he took off, this time heading back toward the Ice Kingdom, but he he decided to take a detour through the Fire Kingdom. He soared along the outskirts of the Fire Kingdom, the boarder between the grassy area near the tree house and the scorching peaks of the lands of fire. What would he do when he got back to the Ice Kingdom, he wondered. Perhaps he would go see what Gunter was up to-- after all, Gunter was a surprisingly interesting individual. Not as interesting as the Ice King, mind you, but interesting nonetheless.

"Guess I'll go see my little one," said Ice King, not even realizing that such a term was usually used for a parent referring to their child. "My penguin. My one. My peng-one!" He chuckled at his own cleverness. He would have to remember that one.

As he flew along the border of the two lands the icy wizard spotted what looked to be a small bundle of flames in the shape of a home, and it wasn't difficult to figure out that this was probably the home of none other than the hot-headed Flame Princess. No, really, she was hot-heated, literally!

He wasn't quite sure why, but he found himself making his way down toward her little inferno abode. Perhaps here he could find something interesting to do, or perhaps at least find someone of a moderately kindred spirit. He landed just a few feet in front of her home and got a mischievous little idea. He bundled up some sticks and stuffed them up the back of his robe to give it the basic shape of a backpack, then wound his white beard around his head and over the top, using a little saliva to twist up two ends in an effort make the beard resemble Finn's hat. With nothing else to wear he left his robes as they were. He then pressed his finger toward the space next to the door of the fire home, hoping that he would be able to find a doorbell, but instead found nothing but searing pain burning his finger. He quickly pulled it back with a cry of pain, blew on it, and instead tried something else.

"Ding..." he paused, clearing his throat and trying to adjust the pitch to sound as close to Finn's voice as he could manage. "Ding-dong!"

He waited there by the door and chuckled to himself again. Yes, this was going to be good. Really good. What a clever, clever man he was. He didn't even stop to think that Flame Princess might not actually even be home at all...

It was a cool, dark night... It was a night that would chill you to the bone; a night that would set your every nerve on alert and make your senses tingle with fear, and with a howling wind that seemed like it would gobble up any blood-curdling scream of terror that might happen to escape from your bloodied lips as you writhed in agony and begged for your pathetic life after--- oh, wait, wrong story...

It was a cool, dark night... He could see the darkness outside from the window just across the room that had its curtains pulled back and tied open. Beams of moonlight peeked through the window panes and made the glass edges of them shimmer. It might have been pretty, perhaps, if young Kenta of the Tachibana family had not something much more lovely to watch over.

Kenta knelt by a sizable bed, his eyes scanning over the frame of a small, sleeping little girl, and his right hand absently, lightly sifting through her soft fern-colored hair not unlike the color of his own. Her skin was just a shade darker than his own and her eyes, when they were open, were of a bright blue color and much more lively than his own, so much so that they seemed to sparkle with childish joy, but despite the differences she looked remarkably like him. Perhaps that was no real surprise...

Her name was Aimi, and she was the most beautiful, wonderful being he had ever known. Even through all of his trials and hardships, even after being cast out by his father and losing so much, at this moment in time as he watched over her none of that mattered-- none of it-- for she was, in fact, his daughter. Yes, young Kenta was a father, her father, and despite all that had happened he knew he would never change any of it given the chance. He had become a father at sixteen years of age, much to the disgust of his family, and was pushed out of the household entirely. He was eighteen now, still just a child himself, and little Aimi had only recently turned two.

He enjoyed nothing more than watching the child sleep. No matter what was on his mind he always felt so soothed and relaxed whenever he watched her sleep, watched her little eyes close and her delicate body at rest, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the low sound of her breathing. Even the glittering window panes could not compare with young Aimi, not even close.

Kenta let his hand lightly stroke against the young girl's exposed cheek and he could feel its warmth on the palm of his hand, on his fingertips, and a small smile curled her lips at his gentle, tickling touch. A lovely smile that set his heart aflutter every time he saw it-- and yet, though it was such a wonderful sight to behold, he felt guilty. Undeniably guilty.

Tonight was Halloween night, a night for tricks and treats, and fun with friends and eating yourself sick on candy that you knew you shouldn't have but you gorged yourself on them anyway; a night where any other child would be prancing about the neighborhood (or, more likely, a shopping mall) and collecting goodies... And yet here Aimi was, fast asleep, breathing lightly and peacefully. Any decent father would have brought their child out trick-or-treating but he was unable to do that after having to work just a couple hours before to support the two of them, and by the time he had returned to the dormitory she was already asleep. Aimi was his joy, his world, but he hadn't even been able to do this one simple thing for her. He felt guilty for not being able to take her out for her first real Halloween-- at least the first one that she would have been able to remember. So very, very guilty...

There was a light knock on the bedroom door and Kenta turned to face it. Standing in the open doorway was a woman, perhaps in her forties, dressed in a black and white maid outfit. The woman worked at the dormitory but she also had volunteered to look after Aimi whenever she could, for which Kenta was quite thankful for. He trusted this woman, and he could find no reason not to do so, and she was, in fact, one of the few people on the campus who knew about his child. In fact, besides her the only other person who knew the fact that he was a father was Yuu, Shoichi Yuu, the current leader of a club that Kenta was a member of: a male host club of Ouran high school. It wasn't exactly a glamorous role to play, or club to be in, but it was usually amusing... for the most part.

Kenta couldn't help but be thankful that she asked for no payment in return for her babysitting services. While his father paid for his schooling at Ouran and his stay in the dormitory, and only to get Kenta as far away from his father's political life as possible, he paid for nothing else.

"Master Tachibana," the woman called to him. He hated when she called him that but try as he might he could not get her to break that habit. After all, she had been trained to address the fellow male students at the dormitory as "master" just as any proper maid. "You're late for your club event."

Kenta glanced up toward a nearby clock. 7:45, she was right, he should have been there twenty minutes ago! Where had the time gone?

"I'll stay here with mistress Aimi," the woman told him and then added simply, "Go on."

"Thank you," was all he could manage to tell her before leaning in to give a light kiss to the top of Aimi's head and then he slipped past the maid and made his way quickly down the hallway. He was dressed in his usual casual attire (what he often wore when not in his school uniform), save for the black top, but he grabbed it and slipped it on as he exited through the door of his dormitory room and entered into the main hallway. He made his way down the hallway, took a left at the corner, and soon he found the main entrance of the dormitory building and stepped out into the cool night air. He shivered a little as the chilly breeze caressed his warmed skin, but he spent little time letting the coolness come to him before he darted off in a mad dash toward the location of the club's Halloween event.


The main doors opened with a creak that sounded all too fitting for a Halloween event and Kenta slipped in; the doors closed behind him with an echoing thud that made him jump. Perhaps it was just him but everything seemed a little eerier on All Hollows' Eve.

After making his way up the grand staircase before him he found his way to where the party was being held and made his way inside. There were already quite a few people there, much to his surprise, and even some of the other hosts where there, some mingling with the party guests, others perhaps getting things ready. He wondered briefly if he should let anyone know about his arrival but instead the strong-and-silent Kenta weaved his way through the background with nary a greeting toward him and he slipped into the kitchen where he, playing the role of the chef, would spend some of his time.

His costume was laying across a counter nearby and as he stepped over to and then picked up to inspect the cliché chef's attire he wondered how exactly he had been talked into this. He was all for cosplay-- and in fact he rather enjoyed it, did it whenever he could-- but this chef attire was something else entirely. But there was no use in complaining about it now.

Soon enough Kenta had dressed himself in the outfit consisting of light gray slacks, black loafers, a black-and-white checkered button-up shirt, and a stark white apron with a bright red sash around the midsection, and a clean white hat. He tucked a golden locket down the collar of his shirt to hide it-- a locket that hung from a golden chain around his neck, and which contained a picture of Aimi and her young mother-- and then looked at his reflection off a hanging pot and felt like a fool wearing the dorky, poofy mushroom-shaped white hat. Did whoever put this costume together really have to include the hat? Seriously?

They owed him for this one. Big time.