“You don’t remember?”

“No. Its creepy. I don’t want to be here...”

“It’s safe now... Come on, let's go inside for a minute.”

The door squeals as rusted hinges protest the motion. She gives a hard yank, and they finally give way, howling from disuse. The cabin is still, a thick layer of dust coating every surface, dulling them down. Silence reigns over everything as the two women step inside, only a floorboard giving a wayward groan as Lycana moves deeper inside the one room building, Reika close on her heels.

“See? I told you there was nothing to be....”

A scratching sound, followed by a thud as the table was bumped. The grimy containers on the top shake, one tilting over the edge to crash to the floor in a tinkling of shattering glass. A loud squalling noise hits the air as Reika shrieks, practically crawling on Lycana as a grayish, furry ball rockets from its hiding spot, its mouth gaping open in annoyance.

The racoon chatters its teeth in warning and Lycana’s wolf responds. Uncurling from slumber to trot forward out of the dark, wanting to answer the challenge put forth by the smaller predator. She keeps a harness on it, as its hackles raise a low growl burbling in its throat. The tiny bandit hisses slightly and that growl rises into a full-blown snarl, so forceful the noise emerges from Lycana’s own mouth.

The portly little creature decides to cut its losses, and scrambles for the hole in the wall, put there by the ever-courteous Harbinger, and tries to slip through, his rotund body getting stuck for a moment. He wiggles, striped tail whirling like a helicopter and then he is gone.

“..... afraid of.”

Lycana finally finishes as she detaches Reika. She looks around, noting everything is still largely undisturbed. With the exception of some leaves and debris blown in, the cabin looks the same as the night she had fled from the Harbinger, leaving what she thought was Reika’s body behind. She shoots a guilty look at the blond who was now inspecting a pretty amethyst hued jar. She had seen him draining Reika’s life force with her own eyes. Had she just stayed, tried to fight a little bit more...

She would have died.

She knew it.

She would have died, but would that have saved Reika? He might have just killed her too. Only, he hadn't, even with Lycana running away. She still wasn’t entirely sure who, or what HAD. This is why they were here. Because Reika was alive, and if they could only spark some of her memory... perhaps she would be able to tell her tale... solving the puzzle and Lycana could go on and handle the culprit.

And perhaps assuage some of her regrets.

She clears her throat lightly, causing Reika to look up at her. “Does any of this look familiar to you?” she asks, waving her hand gently in the air, not wanting to point her in any sort of direction too early. “No.” Reika frowns as she slowly sets the crystalline purple jar down, and starts to roam the room, stopping here or there to run her fingers over something, leaving a clean streak in the dust. Lycana watches silently, holding her breath as the girl approached the wall where the shackles were still attached, the key lying abandoned on the floor where the Harbinger had dropped it.

Reika lowers herself onto her haunches, drawn to the small pieces of multicolored glass scattered onto the floor. They glimmer as the sun bounces off of them, refracting small rainbows. The glass pieces themselves, shimmered like tiny jewels, a cheerful sight in this woebegone place. Lycana had watched those very pieces emerge and fall from the Harbinger’s skin. They had embedded themselves into him when he took his tumble over the table thanks to her superkick, but he had put his hands upon Reika and sucked her life-force out, his burns healing. The glass pushing its way out of his flesh to fall harmlessly to the floor, where they now glittered.

Lycana lifts her gaze to see that Reika’s attention is now focused elsewhere. The shackles.

She holds her breath as the younger woman rises, walking over to run her hands down the chains, the metal clanking softly as it dangles. She lifts it, slowly turning the cuff over and over in her hands as if mesmerized by the very thing that had bound one of her wrists. Lycana creeps closer, watching her carefully as she seems to still, lost in thought, as if the steel had taken control of her, rendering her motionless.

She mumbles something. Lycana’s heart lifts, could this be something? Maybe? “Reika?” she places a gentle hand on Reika’s shoulder. “I don’t remember.” Reika says, under her breath, turning wide eyes to Lycana. “I DONT REMEMBER!” she screams, jumping to her feet and seizing the closest thing at hand, in this case a metal pot, and flinging it across the room. “I don’t remember!” she wails once more, falling to the floor in a heap as sobs begin to wrack her body.

Lycana drops to her knees and gathers her up, her arms going around the crying Reika who curls into her body. She tucks her head under Lycana’s chin and weeps until she has nothing left. Lycana’s arms remain in place, comforting the other woman until she has subsided into hiccupping whimpers punctuated with a few hitches in breathing.

Lycana rubs her chin on Reika’s hair. “It's okay....” she starts. “It's not though Lycana. I know you want me to remember something, but I can't! I can’t! You won't like me anymore...” Reika pulls back to look at the blue haired vixen, her lower lip wobbling as tears fill her eyes, threatening to spill over once again.

Lycana bundles her up close. “Reika, it's alright. You not remembering doesn’t mean I’m not going to like you. That will never happen. We are a family now...”

“A family?” the hazel eyes look to meet the steely blue ones of Lycana once more.

“Yes, a family Reika. This doesn’t change that. I don’t care if you never remember.”

Reika squeezes harder. “A family.” she murmurs, almost to herself.

A motley little family to be sure. Was there any weirder out there? Lycana wasn’t sure, but she would have to guess that theirs ranked up there on the list at least in terms of unusual. She and Marf had become in a sense, parents to this adult toddler, taking her under their wing after Lycana brought her back from the dead. Marf had stepped in, with nearly no questions asked, taking on his role beyond anything she had expected, protecting her just like Lycana would, just accepting things as they came. From the outside, she could only imagine what it looked like.

You had the lycan witch, Marf with a supernatural being in his nightmares, the werewolf pup in an adult body, the entranced human who was some form of love slave slash babysitter for said pup, and then there was the....

“How delightfully adoooorable!”

Incubus.

Lycana looks up to see Finneas leaning a shoulder on the doorframe negligently, watching the scene with a bemused smile on his face. She disengages from Reika, and they both stand up. “What are you doing here?” Lycana gently leads the girl towards the door, forcing Finneas to adjust his position to allow them to slip through. He smiles benevolently at them. “Can't a demon just come to see what two of his favorite people in the world are doing without getting questioned?” Lycana levels him with a side eye. “No.” The trio step out into the sunlight.

“Your pet has been following me.” Finneas pauses. “Oh, excuse me, the one of the extra furry variety.”

Reika makes a small noise of happiness as Fenrir trots out from the woods, tail high and wagging, tongue lolling from his maw as he comes to a halt. Reika looks back at Lycana who gives a small nod. “Stay with him.” she instructs. “I will!” Reika and the big black wolf bound off together, headed back to the house, leaving the two watching their retreating figures.

“Your other one seemed pretty preoccupied.” Lycana glances over. “My other what?” she frowns at him. “Pet.” Finneas answers. “Marf!” he says, exasperated at her raised brow. “He seems like he might need to relieve some stress. You should lend a hand.” Finni lets his voice trail off suggestively. “He’s probably...” The lightbulb clicks on. “REALLY?! Do you EVER think of anything except sex?” she rolls her eyes. “I try not to my dear.” he grins. “Just trying to help you out.”

“You promised to help me with a lot of things that haven't happened.” Lycana points out. “Zara being around to watch Reika for one. How to figure out that dream with Betsy Granger. Something to do with the necromancy...” Finneas waves his hands in the air. “Point made. Were you trying to help her regain her mind then? Seems a shame she is the way she is.”

“It won't be forever.” Lycana looks back to where the girl disappeared. “How do you know?” the question has her tilting her head. “She had a moment of clarity, where she didn’t seem so... young. I don’t think she even realized it. She understood that I wanted her to remember something.” a small thread of hope weaves its way through Lycana’s voice. “If you had just used the bell, you probably wouldn’t be having to deal with this.”

“Yes well...” Pause. Blink. “The what now?”

“The uhh... bell. Perhaps I forgot to mention it?” Finneas smiles sheepishly as Lycana turns her body to face him. “You did.” she remarks drily. “My bad! Ah let's see now, have you ever heard of the High Society?” he continues on, not waiting for her to answer. “There was a part of that, the Legacy... no relation to Miss Granger’s friends.” Lycana doesn’t bother to ask how he knew about that. “They were in possession of the Bell of St Lazarus. It is an ancient relic, that you ring three times, recite the incantation and you can bring the soul back from the dead.”

“Ring a bell. And they’re alive.”

Finneas’ brows slowly rise at the expression on Lycana’s face. They shoot up at the sound of the giggle that escapes her. “A bell. A fucking BELL?! Of course there was an easier way.” her laughter subsides. “Where is this damn thing? On a shelf somewhere?” Finneas rubs the back of his neck. “Well, not exactly. It’s little bit bigger. Its buried somewhere on their old lands...” he stops, tapping the tips of his fingers together, wondering if she was over her little lapse in sanity.

“Seems like more trouble than it's worth. I don’t plan on bringing back any other dead people, let it stay buried.” Lycana sighs and starts to walk back to her house, Finneas falling into step beside her. “You let a lot of things stay buried.” he says wisely. “What is that supposed to mean?” she slants him a suspicious look. “Well, look at the Marf thing...” he begins. “There is no Marf thing! You’re making it a thing.” He gives her a clearly disbelieving look. “Mmhmm yeah sure honey, whatever you want to keep telling yourself. You forget what I am. Anyway, besides that you shove down your feelings so you don’t look vulnerable, but yet here you are hugging an adult child because she’s crying. You shoved down the Betsy Granger MEMORY to the side thinking it was outrageous like the rest of your life was the picture of normalcy....”

“Since when did you become a psychiatrist?” she grumbles. “Let's go back to that Betsy Granger thing. You said you could help me dig deeper and figure it out. Is that true?” Finneas gets in front of her and starts walking backwards, somehow navigating with perfect ease. “Oh yes, I can get into that captivating mind of yours and lead you by the hand so to speak, when you are in one of your... ‘dreams’ as you call it.”

“And what would that entail?” she narrows her eyes. “Oh, just close proximity. You know, me.... you... all snuggled in that bed of yours together. With Marf I suppose since you insist on being next to him on a nightly basis.” he sighs. “I’m sure Marf would be absolutely enthralled by this plan of yours.” Lycana makes a face, clearly showing what she herself thought of the proposition. “Well, if you don’t want my help.” he spins around and puts his hands behind his back. Lycana sighs in annoyance.

He knew she couldn't walk away from this opportunity. The thought of having this... creepy ass demon snuggled up against her made her skin crawl. But the lure of figuring out just what was going on with Betsy and why this... whatever it was... was going on in her head; well, it was damn near impossible to resist. The options sat on the scales in her mind, dipping back and forth. Her second sigh has Finneas turning around, a triumphant smile on his face as they close in on Lycana’s house.

“So, how about we start tonight?” he leers at her. She closes her eyes and swipes a hand through her hair as she lets out a breath through pursed lips. “Fine.” The door opens as the word leaves her mouth, and reveals Marf standing there. “Oh, hello big, brawny and brutish. Seems like you are going to have to share Lycana tonight. But don’t worry, I do love a good ménage et trois.” he sensually runs his tongue over his teeth, as Marf stares. He looks to Lycana, his expression both confusion and disgust intermingling.

“The fuck is he talking about?”

“In order to help figure out this Betsy thing, he has to... be close, while I sleep.” Lycana mumbles. “So, I will be joining you. I look forward to it my dears but now, I must go find Zara. Toodle-loo!” the incubus flounces off leaving the two of them alone as Marf steps outside and closes the door. “You don’t have to be there tonight. Hell, I don’t even want to be in the bed tonight.” she tells him. “Don't be stupid. You think I'm going to leave you alone with that prick? Why do we keep him around anyway?” Marf growls. “If he can help...” she has nothing else really. So far, the demon had claimed to be a fount of knowledge, but hadn't shown his worth.

“Do we even know he’s not talking out of his ass?” Lycana smiles wryly. “Guess we will find out tonight, wont we? Thank you for putting up with all this.” Marf casts her a look, one corner of his mouth pulling up ever so slightly. “Of course. We are partners. With everything. I’ve told you that a million times.” he reaches out and gives a lock of her hair a gentle tug.

“You ready for Mayday?” he questions her as she scrunches up her nose. “Honestly? I’m not sure why I decided to get involved with this battle royal.” she comments, one shoulder lifting up in a halfhearted shrug. “Because you're you, and you like a challenge. Getting that many people in the ring with you? Right up your alley.” He tugs the lock of hair a little harder before letting it go, causing a throaty noise of amusement to emerge from Lycana. “You’re right. That does seem like a great time. Especially when you consider some of the ones in there with me.” Marf rubs his hand across his scruffy beard. “And if you win?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I guess then I go on and face Page.” she says softly. “At Leap of Faith... Where we already have a tag title match against Them No Good Bastards.” he reminds her. “I know.” she looks at her feet. “AND you have that challenge for the X-Treme title if Alias wins over Doc.” he continues on. “Yep.” she keeps studying her toes as if they have become the most fascinating thing in the world. “..................”

His silence is deafening. She peeks up through the trailing tendrils of cobalt tresses, to see him not looking annoyed... but with an amused smirk on his face. “You do this to yourself you know.” his rumbling chuckle brings an answering one back from her. “I do.” she says agreeably. “You’re insane.” Marf comments. “You’re right. And so are you. Its why we make such a good team.” she shoots right back. He inclines his head in acknowledgement and gives a small head bob.“You’re right.” he agrees, repeating her words back to her.

With that, Lycana snakes her arm around his waist and the two of them go into the house and disappear.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Mains and Mysts and Greens. Kinks and Furys and Surprises oh my. What an exciting little Mayday this is turning out to be!

We are fast approaching and this looks like it's going to be quite the entertaining day for everybody's favorite Dark Vixen of Violence. I mean, come on now. A battle royale with a whole smorgasbord of competition to play with all at the same time? The very idea has me shivering with anticipation of it all. How could I resist signing up for such a tantalizing opportunity? So, I did, wielding my pen with flourish. I saw who had come before, and waited with baited breath to see who would arrive after.

And my expectations were exceeded.

By some anyway.

Others... well, I mean I’m not one to turn down the chance to inflict some pain on a warm, willing body regardless of talents, or lack thereof in this case.

Look at this past Warfare and the tag team turmoil. Six teams entered, and only one walked away. That team, was the Dissentients. We did what we set out to do, and not only destroyed all who were put in our path, but we ended the night victorious. There is now only one thing standing between us and the gold, and that’s TNGB... They might think they will have it easy come Leap of Faith, but let's face some facts here.

So did the other five teams.

It is just too bad that we didn’t get to have some fun with the Disintigrators or the Dream-A-Maniacs. Alas, those two teams got away safely, without having to taste the devastation of the Dissentients. A true pity. Perhaps it's something that can be rectified in the future... should either team creep out of whatever little hidey hole they disappeared into.

The other three, were not quite as lucky.

Much like the group of individuals who will be entering the ring within the walls of Corey Smith’s commune.

Ahhhh beautiful Coreytopia.

Have I mentioned how intrigued I am to be allowed into the hallowed halls of Corey’s home? Me! Not only that you will have Marf, you will have the good Doctor, and plenty of members of BoB arriving at his doorstep. All some of his favorite people in the world. Who knows what kind of glorious hijinks we can all get into? Though truthfully, he would be wise to lock the doors and post some guards, keeping the ‘rabble’ outside. I should be careful though, lest I find the way in barred. I hear rumors that one particular piece of trash has already been banned from attending this prestigious affair, bringing the field of opposition down to nine.

Charlie Dimes came looking to defend the Universal title, that he failed to procure and thus ended up booked in the battle royale as Demos. The wannabe savior, who desires to bring light to the dark, to chase evil from the fed, who wants to be the hero to the meek and voiceless... goes and does some absolutely asinine thing and get himself banned from the damn event, from the type of match he never shut up about being so amazing at!

Made my day!

I don’t know though, if it were me, I’d probably keep a verrrry close eye on everything. This guy has three different personalities that he’s shown, who knows which one might come a-knocking at your door Corey? Demos. Dimes. Nickles. Quarters maybe? Fifty Cent?

Hell, maybe one of the many sides of Demos is the mystery entrant.

Who the hell has to hide themselves to enter a battle royal?

A chicken shit.

Someone who is afraid to let anyone know who they are too early, because they have a wealth of things for the rest of us to dig through and learn probably. Someone who thinks the element of surprise gives them some kind of advantage coming into this. Spoiler alert, it really doesn’t. Once that veil of mystery comes off you are just as vulnerable to prying eyes as the rest of us. Pretty sad if you ask me, that you have to hide in the shadows to try and give yourself some kind of pitiable advantage. A grasping at straws maneuver. Shows that you don’t have much confidence in yourself going into this thing.

So why should the rest of us?

Or perhaps you are just in this thing as fodder... someone to lend a helping hand to another entrant who isn't feeling quite up to snuff. Quite up to the challenge of facing all these roster members. Someone who looked at the odds and shit their pants and had to phone a friend. Someone who would be willing to roll over and beg at the drop of a hat. All so they could get their hands on Chronic Chris Page.

Some hard truths if this is the case, for both the mystery entrant and their benefactor... If you don’t even think you can get the job done here, what makes you think you can take down the Universal champion?

Is it because the numbers game scares you silly?

Pathetic.

If this is the case neither of you deserve the opportunity.

But who could this hypothetical mystery opponent and patron be? I have my suspicions as I’m sure everybody else does.

But what of the other entrants? Some do nothing for me. Barney Green, who was a part of the Left Hand with us, as Ethos. A man who exited quickly upon the heels of his fellow BoB factionmate. A man who will fall with ease once I set my eyes upon him. A man who will be in my crosshairs should he step foot onto that canvas while I am ensconced between the ropes. A man I will toss out my damn self should the chance present itself.

Reggie Estrada. Marf and I just took his friends out. I don’t expect he will be much of a challenge. In fact, last time we were even close to being in the ring together, all I saw was his back as he bolted through the crown to try and escape. I wouldn’t be surprised if the same thing happened, and he tossed himself out to prevent me from getting him in my clutches.

Then we come to Sil. More of a sideshow freak than I’m accused of being. A walking lump of muscle with a lot more brawn than brains. I suppose he could get lucky charging like a bull around the ring, but quite a few of us can just sidestep the mass. People like Sil, they bulk up to absolutely comical proportions for what? Trading functionality to make up for a lack elsewhere. Brains, talent, speed, ahh... you know where I'm going with this.

Mickey Kinkade, a man who is running around telling the world that his win over Ash Quinn shows just how serious he is, and what he’s going to bring to a man like Chris Page. ASH. QUINN. One of the worst examples you can use to show you mean business. But hey, throw some confetti around for yourself since you're so excited over this ahh... major victory. I hope you enjoy the feeling, because it ends at Coreytopia. On Mayday, your dream comes to a swift halt, and you can go back to facing the Ash Quinns and trying to feel good about yourself.

Then we slowly start to come to the people who might actually stand a chance in this match. Well, that can be hit or miss when it comes to Jenny Myst. Once she lost the Shooting Star title, her light began to fade. She started a downwards spiral back down to earth. A failed attempt to become Queen. A failed attempt at creating her own faction. A failed attempt to get the Shooting Star title back. And little miss Myst will fail yet again come Mayday, her radiance dying completely as she sinks back into the obscurity she has been floundering about in.

Betsy Betsy Betsy! We meet again! We both knew this would happen, we called it, didn’t we? It's too damn bad that once again, we find ourselves surrounded by others but hey, we can still enjoy each other, no? I kind of figure after our last little get together you might be gunning for my head. AND I WELCOME IT. I do enjoy our playtime in the ring, testing each other's mettle. And my does it ever seem like I bring out the best in you Betsy girl, the part that I admire... but let's save that for another time, shall we?

Miss Fury.... I am not even sure where to start with you. I had counted you as, if not a friend, as an ally. You turned your back, not just on the group as a whole, but each of us as individuals. You came with false pretenses, acting a part. You stood by my side, but did you ever truly have my back as I had yours? Did our alliance mean anything other than a means to an end? Trust does not come easy, and it seems like I was a fool to put it in you. Will I come for you time and again? No... But should we cross paths within the ring, I will hold nothing back. I expect nothing less from you. Perhaps one day, we will settle the score, in or out of the ring... but come Mayday, you are the enemy and I will seek to destroy you.

And now the last...

Mr. Robert Main. How nice of you to join us! How's the head? Now I entered this company as you were on your way out, but it really hasn’t been like you were truly gone. Hearing so much about you and all, watching that drama unfold. Now here you are, having to work your way back for a chance at Chris Page, trying to seize your revenge and take away his gold, like so many others in this company. Your buddy failed, what makes you think you have what it takes? Especially coming in after getting your head caved in by TK. No Mr. Main, you might think this is your avenue to get what you want... but you’ll be facing nothing but failure with how many people will be looking for your scalp in this battle.

Next week, ten of us will enter the ring for an all-out brawl. One will leave with a chance to meet the Universal champ at Leap of Faith. Who will outlast all the rest? I, for one, am counting down the days with eager anticipation. So come one, come all... run your mouths and give out your warnings. Talk about yourselves, tell me what makes you special. Come Mayday... nobody will be safe when I’m in that ring.”