Complementation

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/46000450.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Category: F/F, Multi
Fandom: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, Tentacle and Witches (Visual Novel)
Relationship: Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver/Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale, Emma
Barnes/Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver, Amy Dallon | Panacea | Red
Queen/Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver, Madison Clements/Taylor
Hebert | Skitter | Weaver, Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl/Taylor Hebert |
Skitter | Weaver
Character: Taylor Hebert | Skitter | Weaver, Lisa Wilbourn | Tattletale, Emma
Barnes (Parahumans), Madison Clements, Amy Dallon | Panacea | Red
Queen, Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl | Antares
Additional Tags: Consentacles, Tentacles, Harems, Impregnation, cumflation, Fluff and
Smut, Fluff, Master/Slave
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-03-25 Updated: 2023-05-22 Words: 15,715 Chapters:
10/?

Complementation
by Oroborous

Summary

Taylor as at it again!

With a splash of murder, a dash of sociopathy, a peppering of the occult and a heaping pile
of LEWD, she will change the bay.

Love shall win the day, and none will stop her!

Or - "How I stopped worrying and subscribed to the Japanese Animation school of solving
problems."

The story shows up as a crossover with T&W, but as more of a spiritual inspiration - do not
expect to see characters from that story necessarily, but the more CULTURED individuals
among us may visit upon that 'offbrand' anime and VN to receive 'inspiration' as to the type
of content which I hope to produce.

Additional pairings may be added as they strike my fancy.

 Why you shoudln't litter

Sophia grunted.

Now, granted, she did that a lot - she wasn’t the type to giggle, like Emma’s sycophants did; No -
she was a predator, a survivor.

Her training as a track team member and her hunts under the guise of the vigilante Shadow Stalker
ensured that she had the muscle strength and stamina to carry out her task.

Namely, disposing of the dead weight.

About a month ago, she stumbled upon Emma, the queen bee of Winslow, being held down by
ABB scum. As was her method, she observed, slightly bemused, and wondered if the teenage
model had actual claws beneath all that nail polish - and boy, did she!

Bitch actually scored a nut shot before they got her down.

The three ABB bozos, clearly two initiates and one veteran member, suddenly found themselves
with new orifices as her intangible bolts materialized in their torso, pinning them to the brick wall
of the alley.

From there, things only got better; the father and daughter duo promised to zip it about her
‘specialized tactics’ and the father, who turned out to be a lawyer, gave her his card and told her to
ring him up if she had any issues, pro bono.

Once again, the privilege of the apex predator manifested.

It was a surprise, then, to see said queen bee come to school with the resident dork of Winslow.

Sure, others contested the title - Veder was a low-key pervert with a fixation on brain-rotting
‘vidya’ , which was apparently nerd-speak for video games. Eugh.

His friend, Sparky, was about as zonked out as a veteran merchant without being on drugs, and
apparently had perfect recall of any music piece before 1993. Which would be kinda cool if it
wasn’t absolutely useless.

But the one who took the cake was none other than Taylor fucking Hebert - and by how the girl
acted, Sophia believed that the Simurgh was more likely to be into tentacle porn than that girl
living up to that granted middle name.

She was a consistently cheerful chatterbox who NEVER shut up, one of those obsessive cape
freaks, and she was low-key sure she was a lesbian but was too clueless to fucking tell.

She even caught her with Armsmaster-printed panties in the locker room once.

Mother of god, if the sheep had rulers, she would be crowned god-empress.

And that very girl was basically grafted onto Emma’s side like a conjoined twin.

It made sense, in a way - it was the only way someone like that would survive in this kind of
school; if anyone started shit with Hebert, Emma heard of it within the hour, and their life was shit
the very next day. She personally knew three couples that the redhead broke up because one of the
pair tried to mess with the dork in some way.

The redhead got nothing in return - Sophia was sure that if she asked the girl about carpet
munching, she’d ask if it was an authentic persian or a chinese knockoff.

Thus, Sophia made Emma her project - she would separate the wheat from the chaff, and hone the
redhead as the blade she was.

She started with small words, vague threats in the hallway, and started a few rumors; her power
meant that she could get away before she could be associated with any of her acts.

But the lanky dweeb refused to take the fucking hint .

Which led her to this point.

She slipped Emma a few pills during lunch - nothing bad, just enough to get her disabled for the
next two days with a severe stomach ache, then she stuck Hebert in her locker.

She figured that several hours of sensory deprivation throughout the night would be enough to
break her, but she was proven wrong.

When she opened the door, the dweeb spat at her.

Naturally, Sophia bashed her head into the lockers a few times.

Thus, she was here.

The stolen truck was already merrily burning on the edge of the docks, and the rolled up carpet was
by the pier’s edge.

“I’d say it was nothing personal, Hebert, but you’re in my territory, and you defied me one too
many times. I’ll give you this, though - you had gonads. Shame they won’t help you float.”

And kicked the rolled up carpet into the bay.

She took a few minutes to make sure it wasn’t visible from the pier, that nothing floated back up,
and turned around.

It was unexpected, therefore, that she suddenly felt like she’d been punched in the back.

Looking down, a blade sprouted from her breast bone.

Sophia barely had the time to register the pain before she felt a pull, drawing her into the water.

Her last thought was about calamari.

She was allergic to shellfish.

—WWW—

Daniel and Annette Hebert were rather normal.

Danny was the head of hiring for the dockworker’s association - though nowadays he was the de-
facto leader of the group, seeing how the actual bosses were in the Maldives with women half their
age.
He was well liked, and always seemed to find an in for the boys with the city, the corporations, or
as helping hands for private contractors.

Annette was Chair of the department of English and Literature in Brockton College.

There had been some voices against her, as she was both relatively young and had breasts, but as a
former Lustrumite and a very determined woman, she managed to make her point.
More importantly, no one could prove in a court of law that she broke those kneecaps.

She had three signed witness statements saying so.

Both were very eager to welcome a young Taylor into the world when she finally came, but alas, a
year afterwards, disaster struck.

A brain tumor had been found in their child’s head following a string of headaches that kept the
baby awake at night.

Consultations, tests, and private doctors all had the same answer.

“You should say your farewells.”

Great-grandmother Annerose had a different answer.

The old woman, easily passing 100 years of age yet still vigorous, always seemed to have an
answer.

It was outlandish, but at that point, they had nothing to lose.

Thus, Annette stepped into a clearing, under the shade of a wending hillock, skin bare but for
chalky paint smelling strongly of blood and herbs, Taylor in her hands.

Annerose claimed to have power, or ‘influence’ as she had called it.

She claimed to be a witch.

Annette wanted to argue the point, but then remembered that the leading advocate for Homosexual
rights was a man who flew in skin-tight blue spandex and fired lasers that could loop like a swirly
straw.

She chose to give her the benefit of the doubt.

It did not make her less relieved to see that the other members of the coven in the clearing with her
were about her great-grandmother’s age and similarly bare, barring a shawl of woven leaves.

She could not recall the words Annerose chanted, but instead felt the resonance they had upon the
world.

That night, on ‘Die Walpurgis Nacht’, they called out to something, reaching a hand.
Offering a favor for a favor.

And something answered.

Taylor giggled once it was done, oblivious to the pool of melting rock that surrounded her as
lightning struck the Elder-carved crib three times.

“She is still the same child, dear one - her fortune was great, and the one we’ve invited was
diminished, and searching for another to complete them. She could show their power, or it might
remain dormant in her bloodline forever - but she is not something different, nor other; She is
simply more. ”

Time marched on.

Taylor grew up to be a beautiful girl, cheery and vibrant.

Annette never regretted her choice.

When Taylor did not return from school one day, she became deathly worried.

When she came back home at four AM soaking wet and crying, she became furious.

When Taylor spoke, she resolved to send a letter to Great-Grandmother Annerose, and to go visit
her with Taylor once more.

She was right, as she was always - and they would need her help.
 There's more than one type of locker

At the beginning, she did not know what happened.

One moment, she was on the phone with Emma - the next? The line cuts off after her friend
screams.

The next day, Emma shows up and her hair is a full centimeter shorter.

The last time someone in school other than her tried to touch her hair, she threatened to stab them
in the eye with a pen .

Something was off.

She cornered Emma about it on the roof, and she promised to tell her that night.

One slumber party later, Taylor felt the weight of the truth.

Her friend was attacked.

Her friend was almost violated and killed.

They tried to take Emma from her.

It made her angry. Incredibly so.

So she did what her mother taught her, took a deep breath, imagined breaking their kneecaps with a
spiked baseball bat for five seconds, then hugged Emma like she would disappear if she were to let
go.

The shorter, shapelier girl held onto her taller frame and cried, heaving sobs wracking her body as
she let the ache go.

She would be there for her Emma, until she was better.

—WWW—

‘Sophia Hess was an unpleasant girl.’

This became a recurring thought for Taylor.

She didn’t like thinking about other people like that - people often had reasons for their actions,
and even something that appeared malicious could turn out to be an honest misunderstanding.

And yet, as the month drew to a close, the same thought crystallized.

Her body had at least three blue spots from ‘accidental’ elbows, and she only barely managed to
get that gum out of her hair.

In fact, Taylor believed enough was enough, and this afternoon she had prepared a written
statement of complaint for Blackwell, which she was about to take to the woman in question.

She reached for the letter, secured it in her pocket and turned.

And Sophia was there.

She felt a strong shove, and hit her head on the metal of the locker.

She vaguely heard the locker’s door slam as her consciousness faded.

Her last thought was more of an emotion.

An almost foreign wave of rage.

An unknown amount of time later, she woke.

Before her, the locker door was open, and Sophia stood there, the moonlight shining through the
small window of the locker room and illuminating her smug expression.

“Have you learned your place, worm?”

Taylor knew the right answer would be to go along with the girl’s insanity, get away, then throw
the entirety of the BBPD at the psychopath.

Instead, she spat a bloody loogie at her.

Nailed her in the eye, too.

Sophia did not take that well, and took her head into the locker door several times.

As her consciousness faded, Taylor felt another emotion.

Victory, and conquest.

The third time she awoke, it was a cold splash that rose her.

Immediately, she began gasping for air as the salty water of the bay rushed into her mouth.

After a minute’s struggle, she noticed that for all her flailing, she was not suffocating.

Experimenting with a drawn breath, the water felt salty, and through a seam she had not noticed in
her side, a current of water passed from her trachea to her lungs, then outside though the gash.

She had gills.

She felt her body impact the bottom of the bay, and noticed she was trapped in a cylinder.

Specifically, a tacky Persian knock-off carpet.

Immediately, she began struggling, wishing with all her might to break free - then suddenly, she
was free.

A new limb appeared in her mind.

Snaking from her back, a black tentacle the thickness of her wrist revealed itself, the tip tapering to
a feather-like blade that gleamed in the abyssal moonlight.

She stood upon the floor of the bay, breathing in for a moment, feeling like an astronaut on an alien
planet as fish darted around her.

She suddenly felt hungry.

Scratch that, ravenous.

She looked upwards, and almost immediately, her eyes locked with Sophia’s.

The other girl clearly could not see her, or she would be running away as her expression turned
murderous.
SHE TRIED TO KILL ME!

Then, her mind went fuzzy.

When she came to, she was at the bottom of the bay.

In her hand, was a hand.

It was female, moderately toned, of a dark shade of skin made pale by blood loss.

It was notably absent of a body to be attached to.

Taylor was not hungry anymore.

When she got home, and saw her mother, she began sobbing.

And when she spoke, her mother listened.

Finally, her mother spoke, and she became confused.

Who the heck was Great-Great-Grandmother Annerose?

 Interlewd 1 - or, the the Queen Bee and the Flower
Chapter Summary

Our first lewd, plus Emma!

Who knew Teenagers were unstable horny messes?

Boggles the mind, really.

Madison Clements was small.

She was precisely 140 centimeters tall.

Her body was described as petite and elfin, but it was small.
Her legs were long compared to her body, but they were not enough to make her even close to tall.

Her mother, bless her soul, told her that she was still coming into her figure, and pointed to her
tapering waist as proof.
Madison would then point to her chest, or the lack thereof.
Her mother would then state she had a very cute tush, and Madison would then flee to her room in
a combination of embarrassment and mortification.

She could see her appeal, in a way, as she looked in her mirror.

Her form was hairless, with the exception of a small tuft of carefully curated pale blonde hair
above her core.
Her skin was pale, the sort of pale that actually looked good rather than the goth, ‘the sun is my foe
and acne is my erstwhile friend’ kind of pale.

She was not muscular by any definition, but a careful diet and some light exercise made sure that
she was soft in the right places.
Her face could be described as heart-shaped, but she knew most guys looked a bit lower than that
at first - and here, they would be disappointed.

Two tiny, pale pink nubs sprouted from her chest.

They did not cap anything, for there was nothing to cap.
Had she not felt the slight swell and give of the skin and fat that aspired in its arrogance to claim
the title of breasts, she would not believe they were there.

Turning around, she noted that her narrow shoulders tapered pleasingly to her waist, and that the
curve of her spine terminated in a pleasing swell at her butt.
Her mom did have a point, she conceded.

As she placed her clothes in the laundry hamper, she opened her drawers and noted that she still
had her training bras there.
Next to her current selection, they looked exactly the same, design and prints aside.
Heaving a frustrated, defeated sigh, Madison sat down at her computer and got to her favorite pass-
time.

Double clicking the folder titled “biology homework”, a 5-gigabyte repository manifested.

Over 2,000 Ultra-HQ, sharpened and enhanced pictures of Emma Barnes.

In school, Madison was one of Emma’s closest hanger-ons - she would not dare call herself a friend
of the incarnation of beauty that manifested as a curvaceous, luscious redhead.
In private, Madison was as close to Emma’s stalker as one could get without actually stalking her.

Her chair already had a towel ready on its seat, a lesson from the past.
Pulling one of the more choice collections, a swimsuit publication from the summer, she drank in
the sight of the redhead’s swollen breasts straining against the white bikini.

Her fingers passed through her mouth, moistened by saliva, then trailed down her chin and breast
bone, before making a turn for her nipple.
An unforeseen advantage of their size, her nipples were hypersensitive, so much so that to function
normally in school required nursing stickers.
Now, though, she gently circled the nubs as her small areola sent alternating waves of pleasure up
her spine, before lightly pinching her nipple.

Immediately, a pulse of pleasure shot through her, and she took a few moments to ride out the
small climax.

Now thoroughly in the mood, her mind wandered with her hands.

She traced her flat stomach, imagining Emma’s hands doing the same.
In her mind, the taller, dominant redhead commanded her to reveal herself, and thus she obeyed.

Her long, slender legs parted to reveal her inflamed core, pale lips swollen to a needy pink hue.
Her clitoris was engorged, and the pink button strained against its hood, twitching slightly.

Slowly, as her mistress commanded, she placed two fingers betwixt the valley of her clenched lips,
and parted them sideways.
There was a moist sound as the sodden flesh parted to reveal her molten core, and as her mistress
touched her, her fingers followed.
Slowly her middle finger wandered across her nub, teasing her urethra for a moment, before
continuing to her entrance.

She then inserted the finger inside, slowly and carefully, and felt her walls tighten like a constrictor
around the intruding member, seeking to draw her inside.

Finally, she reached a fleshy barrier, and a shot of pleasure wracked her.

Her mistress was playing with her maidenhead.

She was at her complete mercy.

The thought sent her over the edge as her finger’s circular movements around the borders of her
hymen accelerated, and her other hand teased her nipple mercilessly.
With a lip-biting squeak, she reached her peak and a hissing wave of fluids showered her hand as
her frantic movements became dulled with pleasure, seeking to lengthen the orgasm as much as
humanly possible. Her narrow chest heaved as her lungs labored, and a low moan escaped her
bruised lips as her eyes fluttered and rolled upwards.

She sat there, draped across her chair in a boneless heap, as post-coital bliss came and went.

Soon, she felt the air chill her skin, and went to shower.

She would have to repeat this performance in the shower before sleep would be allowed to take
her.

—WWW—

Emma was suffering.

Whatever happened, it happened violently, and it made the toilet her domain for the last two days.

On the bright side, she could probably cut that diet short now!

On the much less bright side, she felt like a garden hose.

Eugh.

Between bouts of morbid gastric distress, different pain wracked her.

Sophia had it in for Taylor for some reason; the brute was much less overt than she believed.

The first day, she gave her the benefit of the doubt.

The second day, she came to the conclusion that they’d never be friends.

The first time she noticed Taylor’s bruises, she started to hit up some of her less-used contacts.
The types whose family had affinity to the more shave-headed parts of town.

Her mother noticed her behavior being off and after sitting her down for an intervention with her
father, they came up with a plan.
Emma would gather records from her people in the school, while shoring up Taylor’s mental
health and heading off anything extreme, and after a month, they’d bury ‘Shadow Stalker’ in a hole
so deep even Behemoth wouldn’t be able to find her.

She couldn’t take her revenge on either Taylor or Emma if she was at the deepest pit of a
maximum security Parahuman facility after all.

Her dad, who worked in the same firm as Carol Dallon, a.k.a Brandish, a.k.a “Light-saber
Mommy” - thank you Greg, for that delightful moniker - knew that Parahuman vigilantes
sometimes got some leeway regarding excessive force, and figured that showing her to be a violent
sociopath in her civilian life as well as her cape life would guarantee her status as Persona non
Grata within the Wards.

After all, who’d want a violent bitch with anger issues among their star roster of plucky young
heroes? That shit had ‘PR disaster’ written all over it in big, blocky letters painted with the blood of
the innocent.

Still, she couldn’t help but have a niggling suspicion that something was off.
And so she texted Madison.

The girl had a MASSIVE crush on her.

So much so that she had to work around some of the Hitler Junge in the school to prevent her being
harassed.
It was adorable, and Emma was secretly considering making something out of it - she liked Taylor,
of course - but the poor girl was about as clueless as she was pretty.

Those legs go on forever!

Ahem, down girl.

Her lust-tinged concern turned into mounting panic as Madison reported that Taylor had been
absent the following morning.
She immediately told her parents, and they told Aunt Annette and Uncle Danny.
Taylor’s dad had the dockworkers on the lookout, but Emma couldn’t help but recall that night in
the Alley.

If she lost Taylor, her rock…

She would have nothing left.

 Sleepover, the first
Chapter Summary

Taylor and Emma defy Hebert traditions by, gasp!

Talking about their feelings and sharing their experiences.

Eugh, makes my skin crawl.

Taylor found herself in a familiar position that night.

Her room, being on the 2nd floor of their house, had the advantage of benefiting from both a
window set in the wall, to the side of her desk and computer, as well as a skylight sat in the roof,
that she could open or close with a pole attached with a small hook.

As the light of the moon cascaded through the skylight and the lights of the bay twinkled through
the window, her anger, her fear, her shame and self-loathing became smaller.

The warmth that tugged her side helped so much more.

“Tay?”

She turned, and faced Emma.

After her dramatic return and the conversation with her mother, she’d called Emma to tell her she
was alright.
Emma merely told her to hold that thought and hung up.

Twenty minutes later, the door thudded and when it opened, she was tackled by a panicky redhead,
barely avoiding a tumble to the floor.

She caught Uncle Alan giving her dad that tired smile they usually had when they talked together
on the universal Dad wavelength, and after some polite words, he drove back home.

An hour later, they were both bathed and in sleepwear, cuddled into her bed.

“Tay, you can’t just stare out the window like some noir film protagonist and expect me not to
worry about you. Talk to me.”

She sighed, and wiggled deeper into Emma’s big spoon.

Her friend became more and more comfortable in recent years, and she intended to take advantage
of her warm softness if she was to speak of tonight’s events.

Emma began stroking her scalp, running her fingers through her hair.

Now that’s just unfair. She knows I’ll do anything she wants when she does that.

“I… fine, you win.”

She could hear her smirk.

“Of course I do - now blab, or I tickle.”

Taylor knew she meant it, and smiled.

“You remember Sophia? Track girl, unpleasant?”

Emma snorted.
“Unpleasant? Bitch has a stick so far up her ass you can hoist a flag on it.”

“Emma!”

“Oh please, Tay - your weird thing with swearing aside, I’m not hearing you deny it.”

Taylor huffed.
“It’s not a ‘weird thing’; it’s proper lady-like behavior. Now, will you let me continue?”

“Why yes, your ladyship,” she answered, fake posh British accent and all; “Your humble
handmaiden beckons you to regale her unworthy ears with thine exploits!”

“You’re horrible!”

“And you love me.”

“...Yeah, I do.”

“So, spill! No more dramatic suspense!”

“Well, for the last few weeks Sophia started riding my cases. I don’t know why or how, but she
had some sort of axe to grind with me. She tripped me in the halls, called me names, tried to start a
rumor or two. Even slipped me an elbow here and there.”

She felt Emma tense.

“Emma? Something wrong?”

Emma sighed.

“I… I know about that. Just, listen! I know some stuff about her, and I knew she was dangerous -
like, real bad news kind of dangerous. Our family owed her big time, so I gave her the benefit of
the doubt, but after a couple of days I figured she burned out any favor she had with us. When I
realized she was getting physical I planned on ratting her out to the skinheads but dad stopped me.
We figured we could get her out of school and probably the Bay in general in about a month’s
time.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“I felt like shit about it, but I also didn’t want to patronize you like some sort of social invalid who
needs me to fight her battles for her. You’re smart and beautiful, and you didn’t deserve how she
treated you, so don’t believe anything she said, alright?”

They lay there, one against the other, as they both stared out at the Bay and its lights, the
comforting body heat and scent of each other mixed with body wash suffusing the room.

Finally, Taylor spoke.

“I’m… not angry, I think.”

Emma sounded surprised.

“You’re not? I, I abandoned you to that bitch! You should hate me! What sort of fucked up friend
am I?”

Her voice cracked near the end as she choked through a hiccuping sob.

“I think you’re my friend, and that you wanted the best for me. Maybe you didn’t go at it the best
way, but you thought of me when you did it.”

She felt Emma’s embrace tighten as the other girl pressed herself into her back.

“I killed Sophia.”

Emma froze.
“What?”

She swallowed thickly.

“At least, I think I did. She tried to kill me.”

Emma was silent for a moment.

“Do you need help hiding the body?”

That drove her over the edge, and Taylor began laughing a full, watery laughter that echoed in the
small room, soon joined by Emma.
After a few moments, they both calmed down.

“No. No way anyone will find her, I can guarantee that much.”

Taylor told Emma everything.

From the first encounter with the jock, to the locker, to the pier, to waking up underwater and
finding out about her unique physiology.

Killing Sophia.

Losing awareness, and coming to with the feeling of satiety and Sophia’s arm in her hands.

Emma never let go once.

Some time later, she asked.

“Can you show me? What can you do?”

Taylor reached to that other, new part of her, the part she only now realized was always there, and
suddenly a new limb emerged from her side.
The tentacle slithered from under the bed and along her chest, to emerge some distance away from
Emma and her.
The blade-tipped tentacle gleamed in the silver moonlight.

“Whoa. Can you make more of them? Different ones maybe?”

Could she?

“Wait a second.”

Feeling inside, the answer came to her instinctively.

The tentacle wiggled, and the blade was absorbed - leaving behind an appendage she knew was
both soft and spongy to caress like a hand, yet strong enough to rend steel if she so wished.

“Can you bring it closer?”

She did, and soon it was mere centimeters away from Emma’s face.
Suddenly, she felt an odd pleasure shooting up her spine.

“It’s so soft…”

Emma was stroking her tentacle.

Nope. Not dealing with this now.

She withdrew the tentacle and reabsorbed it into her body, to Emma’s petulant protest.

“So, you’re a cape now?”

Taylor hummed in consternation.

“I’m… not sure. On the one hand, I have powers - that much is clear. On the other hand, well, my
mom’s been dropping lots of little hints here and there, and they all work up to one lead.”

Emma growled in frustration.

“Well, spill! You can’t just leave me hanging like this, you massive tease!”

She giggled.
It was always fun, riling her up like that.
She got so cute when her face scrunched up in anger, her nose wrinkling at the bridge.

“Well, apparently I have a Great-Great-Grandmother - Annerose Hebert - and my mom is certain

that we need to go visit her. Something about the past or somesuch,”

“Great-Great-Grandmother? She must be, like, over a hundred years old! Does that mean you and
your mom are going to be ancient old biddies too?”

She snorted.
“Why yes, my dearest Emmaline - and I’m sure I would love to introduce you to Charles from my
retirement home; I’ve been told he deals a vicious Bridge hand!”

Apparently the thought of dating old fogies was too much for her friend, and she could feel her
shudder.

“Eugh, Tay, Thanks for that mental image. You happen to keep any brain bleach by your bed?”

“Nah, I guess you’ll just have to suck it up.”

“So,” Emma continued after a short while, “Where does she live?”

“Monchau, Germany.”

“...Holy shit - so you’re going abroad?”

“Yup. Off to visit Great- oh, forget it; Granny Anne will do.”

“ Pfft- You’re such a dork!”

“Hey!”
“Well, just on the off-chance some wicked witch absconds with you to her treacle house on
chicken legs, I best come with! Worry not chaste maiden, for I shall defend thy honour!”

“...First, you just blended together at least two different fairy tales. Second, I didn’t know you
knew how to properly use the term ‘abscond’, and third, What do you mean, ‘I’m coming with’?!”

“Screw you on counts one and two - and yeah, I’m coming with; I wasn’t there for you when that
skank tried to kill you, and I’m sure as hell won’t leave you alone in the hands of your mysterious
ancient German granny. I’m coming and that’s final.”

“You literally just found out about this! How do you know uncle Alan will even say yes? There’s
no way he’d let you fly to Germany alone!”

To that, Emma merely scoffed.

“Oh, Tay - It is adorable, the way you believe he has any say in the matter.”

And she did know that when Emma used that tone, whatever she wanted from her dad was as good
as done.
“Fine - but you better pack for the cold because it’s like, 20 below zero over there!”

“Psh, What do you take me for, some sort of spoiled princess that can’t take a stiff wind?”
 At winter's lap
Chapter Summary

Took a break due to ramping up at work, a week and a half of PC downtime at the
shop (DDR 5 baby!) and Passover laziness.

This one's a little bit rough and I'm less than happy, but perfect is the enemy of good,
and it lets me get on with the more interesting stuff.

Also, cute girls doing cute things.

Edit - updated missing chapter title.

“I regret everything.”

“Well, I-”

“Listen, Tay - I love you and I will literally stab a bitch for you, but if I hear the words ‘I told you
so’ I will NOT be held responsible for my actions.”

Taylor took in Emma’s form.

The redhead had packed winter gear suitable for a harsh Brockton winter - which in the colder
German weather of February meant that she was about 5-10 degrees short.

Admittedly, the fashionable cream-colored winter coat and long pants contrasted well with her hair
and matched her skin. In fact, She would be willing to go as far as to admit that the boots worked
well to keep her socks dry in the snow.

However, she was about two layers short for the weather, and the girl was already shivering.

Thankfully, their destination was not far.

—WWW—

As the events that lead to Taylor’s powers awakening were revealed to the two families, both
couples decided to withdraw their daughters from Winslow, citing increased gang activity and a
family vacation abroad while transfer papers were being sorted out. It was not yet known whether
their respective contacts could swing a transfer to Arcadia, but Clarendon and Immaculata were
always an option, if less desirable.

It still beat the no.1 gang recruiting area in the Bay.

Therefore, by Thursday both families were packed and on a flight to Frankfurt after a brief in-states
connection flight.

While Emma took great pleasure in raiding the duty-free shopping centers and treating Taylor as
her personal dress-up doll, she reacted poorly to the temperature differences between the air-
conditioned airport and plane, and the sub-zero German winter.
Luckily for her, their next leg was a brief stay in a hotel in Frankfurt itself, followed by a taxi ride
to the train station and several hours of train-ride to Monschau proper.

The town was smaller than Frankfurt by quite a bit, and its architecture leaned heavily on older,
shorter town houses and private two-story homes - the classical design that seemed to have been
torn out of a Grimm brothers tale stirred both girls’ sense of wonder, and the two spent the majority
of the trip from the station to the hotel with one hand clasped around the other’s, and the other
pointing out this and that.

In particular, she found Emma’s fascination with the vibrant flower boxes that dotted every
windowsill and the snowy evergreens to be absolutely heartwarming - the contrast of the
cosmopolitan city girl squatting down to admire flowers growing by the side of the road filled her
with a nameless sort of joy that sent warmth down her fingers.

Looking aside, she spotted a certain flowering shrub.

Quickly bending down as the other girl became distracted with an intricate living archway, she
grabbed a particularly stunning bloom and flexed her newfound ability.

While her power first manifested in the form of a tentacle emerging from her back, Taylor found
that she could utilize pretty much any part of her body to form the additional appendages -
moreover, she had no hard limit on their number or length beyond practicality and the constraints
of basement testing.

She also found that she could change her own shape - after accidentally sprouting gills in the
shower, she reflexively wished the organs away and watched as the flesh instantly merged together
into unmarred, pale skin. A further experiment saw her turn a pair of fingers into a pair of scissors
by forming blades on the parallel slides of each respective finger.

That same trick separated the bloom and some of its stem from the shrub, and freed her to sneak up
on Emma.

“Hey, turn around for me real quick?”

“Hmm? Sure, what’s up?”

The slight confusion on Emma’s face turned into a luminescent pink flush as Taylor bent slightly
down to affix the snow-white Camellia in her crimson locks, their faces almost touching.

With a final stroke of her cheek to clear a bit of fallen snow, she let go of Emma and pulled out her
phone.

“Aaaand, got it!”

Seeing Emma still quiet, she went to her side to show her the picture she’d taken.

In the frame, the white form of the girl was broken by flowing crimson locks of hair that escaped
from her coat’s faux fur-lined hood, which were in turn contrasted by the newly acquired flowery
accessory.

Emma’s pink flush and surprised, wide eyes were so different from her usual photo-shoots, that the
picture she’d managed to take filled Taylor with an immense sense of achievement.

“I really like this picture, you know? It’s like I managed to capture a side of you no one else ever
saw - like it’s something that's just for us, you know?”
Her self-satisfaction evident, she was so absorbed in Emma’s picture that she failed to notice the
girl herself make a very convincing imitation of a kettle.

The aforementioned redhead was thus left biting her lip and screaming internally.

How?! Is this because I stopped going to church with mom? Some sort of sick form of punishment
for a past life? How can she be so - GAH!

Taylor remained blissfully unaware of the bittersweet misery she had inadvertently inflicted upon
her best friend.

—WWW—

The Herrenhaus hotel was an older building - the metal plaque set into the elegant stone facade
said as much; a former estate belonging to a nobleman, the building traded hands between several
merchants by the fall of the Prussian empire, before making a return to the hands of said noble’s
descendants around the 60’s.

Given the prime location in the picturesque German countryside, the proximity of a major
settlement in the form of Monschau, and less than an hour’s ride to the famous Schwartzwald - the
Black Forest - the hotel, named after its tenure as a residence for the nobility - prided itself on
traditional, high class hospitality and cuisine.

The Barnes were hesitant to take it over one of the more well-known international chains, but
Great-Great-Grandmother Annerose chose well.

It was during the evening, when they had fed, bathed and sat around the fireplace in the guest suit
they were lodged at, that a knock on the door sounded.

Thump, Thump, Thump, came the sound - the aged wood of the door, thick and sturdy, echoed the
powerful blows, and those bounced off the stone walls.

“I’ll get it.”

Annette rose from her seat next to her husband, and went to the door.

She briefly fiddled with the latch before opening the door.

Revealing the same face from that very night, all those years ago.
 Grandmother
Chapter Summary

Annerose makes her entrance!

It's a whopping chunk of exposition, but she's, like, really old! It's an old people thing!
Probably.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Welcome, Grandmother.”

The words came to her unbidden, as her eyes were transfixed onto those of her elder standing at the
doorway.

The old woman nodded after a brief pause, before frowning.

“Do you recall my instructions, child?”

For a brief moment, the meaning of her words eluded Annette, before her cheeks flushed.

“Apologies - I bid you welcome to our hall for this night, by right of hospitality.”

The old woman nodded, somewhat mollified but frowning all the same, as she entered the room.
Thunk, Thunk, Thunk, her gnarled wooden cane fell upon the stone floors.

Annette followed behind, gesturing to a comfortable padded armchair that sat at the head of the
two couches near the fireplace.

Both families sat together, as they had expected the old woman to arrive - yet her presence seemed
to demand their entire span of attention, and a charged quiet fell upon the suite.

With a grunt, the old matron lowered herself by her cane and unto her seat, taking in those present.
To her left, sat Zoe and Alan - the respective blonde and redhead were in casual evening clothes,
thick sweaters and sweatpants.
To her right, sat Danny and Annette who by then had returned to her husband’s side. The two were
clothed in the same manner as their friends.

“Child,” started the old matron, an eyebrow raised in a question; “I believe we are missing
someone, are we not?”

Annette nodded once.

“Taylor went to the kitchen to get some refreshments - she should be back soon.”

Gesturing to the opposite couple, she continued.

“In the meanwhile, allow me to introduce Zoe and Alan Barnes - our long-time friends. Taylor had
grown up very closely to Emma, their youngest, and following recent events, they asked to
accompany us.”
Alan took her sign, and introduced himself, followed by Zoe.

“I see. Well met, friends to Annette and Daniel - I am Annerose Vajra Hebert, though you may
refer to me by my given name.”

Annette gestured to her left.

“You of course know Daniel, my husband.”

Daniel felt the crone’s eyes fall upon his form, before locking with his.
For a few moments, the old woman stared into his eyes, and he unconsciously made to straighten
his back and still the jittering the older woman had induced in him.

Finally, seemingly satisfied, the crone gave a sharp nod.

“Well met, Daniel - I see Annette had not chosen wrongly.”

Just then, the thick wooden door of the kitchen swung open, revealing the thus-far missing teens.

In the lead walked Taylor, holding a tray with a large, clear kettle laden with fresh Earl Grey and
jars of cream and sugar. Walking closely behind her was Emma, her own tray packed with several
confections purchased earlier, as well as delivered previously from the hotel’s kitchen.
The two were dressed like their parents - Taylor donning a dark green sweater and dark sweatpants,
with Emma following her lead but trading the green for a dark red.

“Hey, so apparently the hotel was out of Black Forest cake AND Red Velvet, but we got these
really nice cinnamon-” Taylor started, only for her cheerful tone to quiet as she noticed the new
arrival.

“Uh, Great-Great-Grandmother annerose?”

The old woman laughed .

It was a rough thing, but warm nonetheless, and her mirth was palpable.

“Evening, Taylor - My apologies, but please call me Grandmother; no need to twist your tongue.
How about you and your friend seat yourselves?”

The two teens set to placing their trays onto the coffee table amidst the seating arrangement, then
set to pouring all present a cup of tea.

Finally, once all were provisioned with a warm beverage and an accompanying pastry, Annette
continued.

“Grandmother, I’d like to introduce to you my daughter, Taylor - at least, officially this time - and
her friend, Emma.”

The two teens nodded in turn.

Introductions through and done with, Annerose set to attend the matter at hand.

“Friends and Family - we are gathered here today to discuss an important matter regarding young
Taylor Hebert. Before we proceed, understand that the knowledge I am willing to share is sensitive
to a degree you might not necessarily fathom without the necessary context - therefore, I ask those
of you who are faint of heart, unwilling to keep the secrets I impart, or weary of seeing a side
previously unknown to this world, to depart this room.”
 A moment passed, then another - none rose from their seats.

Annerose nodded.

“Very well - I shall start with a brief review. Long ago, our ancestors settled the woods of the
Schwartzwald following a wave of persecutions - while their practices were referred to by the
Christian church as ‘fell, black Magicks’, theirs was a much more gray trade; using their
knowledge and carefully cultivated abilities, they kept the boundary between the mundane world
and the things from beyond the Veil.

“While today, many of those things have gone to the far reaches of the world in an effort to escape
civilization’s encroachment, several hundred years ago they menaced communities and terrorized
men. Nowadays, our abilities would not be overly dissimilar to those of Parahumans at first glance,
yet they are very much not the same - I assure you that.”

Annerose took a brief moment to imbibe from her tea, as her words settled into the minds of those
present.

“As I have stated, our role became more and more diminished as mankind flocked to the safety of
the big cities, and became almost redundant as the light of electricity and the dawn of the gun
pushed most of the more… mundane horrors, to the far edges of the world - eventually, our people
settled near the great ancient woods of the world and the far corners where the Veil between
worlds still grants passage, and tended those places. Nowadays we fulfill a role most akin to a
woods-keeper or a forest ranger.”

Annerose turned her head to Annette and her daughter, nestled between her mother and Emma.

“Until that night, sixteen years ago.”

Taylor felt her mother swallow thickly from behind her, and tightened her grip on Emma’s hand.

“Soon after her birth, young Taylor had been diagnosed with an advanced form of brain cancer -
her age, health and the nature of the affliction made the condition untreatable and irrevocably fatal.
While the doctors gave up on you, Taylor, your mother refused. Instead, she came to me.”

“Sixteen years ago, we gathered in the woods on Walpurgisnacht , and asked for help from beyond
the Veil - and something answered.”

The crone rose from her seat laboriously, and declared.

“Tomorrow, we shall depart to the forest, where we shall attempt to comprehend the newfound
effects of the aid given at the site where the boon was granted - we will travel to the border of the
forest where we will part from the menfolk, and meet with my coven. Rest as you will, for we
depart an hour past daybreak.”

And with that, the old woman left the room, leaving more questions than answers.

Chapter End Notes

If it pleases you, please leave a comment - I especially want to know if you liked the
sexual content thus far, and if the pace of the story seems rushed to any degree.
 Arrival at the Threshold
Chapter Summary

Our group arrives at the forest!

For those unaware, Annerose Vajra is the female main character of "Kotetsu no Majo
Annerose", another work of Black Lilith, the sister studio of Lilith Mist and the
producers of Tentacle and Witches, an adult visual novel.

She makes a reprisal here as a cameo to Lilith's works as one of my least and most
favorite studios.

The VN, and the resultant anime, are in my humble opinion, both wonderful works
and an absolute waste of good material and talent.

You have an interesting setting, beautiful character design, a hentai protagonist that is
almost interesting, and yet the studio chose to give you one "good ending" that ends
with a side-heroine raped and killed, the MC killed, and little to no resolution. The bad
ending is shown in episodes 3 and 4 of the anime, and I can honestly say I don't
recommend it, nor the 2nd part of episode 2, if you're not into snuff, rape and all round
REALLY bad stuff.

I would really love to see a fanfic reprisal of that work, giving the characters the good
ending they deserved.

Rant over, onwards with the plot!

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The ride to the forest was scenic.

The two families rose early in the morning, overnight bags ready to go.
Taylor had to haul Emma to her feet and just about force-feed her a shot of espresso to boot her
brain up.

Her friend was NOT a morning person.

Grandmother Annerose awaited by a hotel minibus - given the hotel’s location, daily shuttles for
lodging groups were available to and from the forest itself.
They packed into the van, and off they went.

Seeing the German countryside pass by was both exciting and meditative.
Having been born and raised in the Bay, neither Taylor nor Emma ever left the city, neither family
ever took the opportunity to travel abroad.
Now, the two teens were sitting side by side, squeezing against the window - and each other -
marveling at the rolling green hills speckled with snow that began thawing under the winter sun,
pointing and taking a picture of the occasional hamlet or windmill.
Eventually, they had arrived at the border of the forest, where a small village hosted a lodge for
tourists making excursions to the woods. While the families were making purchases in the gift
shop, Annerose spoke with the proprietress - a woman who seemed in her late 40’s.
Their voices did not carry in the wooden space of the lobby, covered as it was in furs and carpets,
and their accented German made deciphering their words to a non-native a rough prospect.

“Guten tag, Heidi - how are the children?”

The other woman smiled, looking lovingly at a framed picture showing two brunette siblings, a boy
and a girl.
“Ah, Gustav is doing well, though the boy managed to put an end to my mother-in-law’s
abomination of a vase, and Eva should have her first cycle within two months if I am not mistaken.
Good day to you too, Anne. What brings you here?”

Annerose smiled as her friend spoke of her children, knowing her troubled pregnancy, yet her smile
took a downturn at her question.
“I am afraid that the events of sixteen years ago had taken a turn to the, shall we say, interesting.”

Heidi frowned.
“I hate it when you say that. I gather I should rouse the others?”

“Aye - my family will join us in the revelry; the matter concerns them. The menfolk will stay with
their wives here for the mundane celebrations, while the girls will join us. Please make the
preparations in accordance.”

Annerose’s friend gave a curt nod.

“I shall attend to it, Hohepriesterin.”

And with that, the two said their farewells.

—WWW—

The group soon broke for lunch in the lodge, where Annerose explained their itinerary in detail.
Unfortunately, not everyone was pleased.

“Absolutely not!”

Upon telling him that his daughter was to accompany a group of unknown women into the black
forest at midnight, Alan was less than happy.
His wife, while attempting to calm her husband who was currently making a scene, did not seem
pleased as punch, either.

Annerose regarded him with the steel of a woman who had seen much, and had found him lacking.
“Herr Barnes - kindly refrain from causing a disturbance; while I understand your concern,
misplaced as it may be, this business belongs to a good friend of mine, and I shall not have you
disturb it.”

The reddening redhead did not seem mollified one bit, but could not hold her gaze.

“Now, as I have said before - the only one which is required to attend is Taylor, for whom we’ve
gathered here,” Annerose continued;
”You and your wife, as well as Taylor’s parents are more than welcome to enjoy the
Walpurgisnacht festivities in the village - there would be dancing, food, drink and music aplenty, I
assure you. However, your daughter is adamant that she would join us; since I see no reason to
deny her.”

Her gaze, thus far indifferent - sharpened, and took on a distinctively hostile form.
“I shall ask you this - do you believe that I, Annerose Vajra Hebert, would directly or indirectly, by
indiscretion or incompetence, cause any harm to my great-great granddaughter, flesh of my flesh
and blood of my blood?"

He could not answer, and that was answer enough.

“Grandmother, I’m certain Alan did not mean to offend,” intervened Annette; “I know that Danny
and I would also be concerned if our positions were reversed.”

Annerose nodded once.

“I understand, granddaughter - and that is why I shall not take offense, this time.”

Sparing Alan a final look, she spoke once more.

“See that you refrain from offending me and mine in our heartland, Herr Barnes - you will do well
to recall that you are a guest, and we are your hosts.”

Off to the side, the two girls at the heart of the discussion conversed among themselves.

“Emma, are you sure you want to come? You hate nature, and we’ll be stomping around the woods
in the middle of the night!”

The shorter girl looked her taller companion in the eyes, incensed.
“Tay, we’ve been together ever since our mothers got pregnant . We shared toys, we shared
clothes, we shared food. I followed you to goddamn Germany on a day’s notice. If you think you
can get rid of me now, you have another thing coming to you.”

Taylor was taken aback at Emma’s heated rebuke.

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

Emma raised her nose imperiously.

“Precisely - ‘twas a fool’s errand to argue with our august self, good lady; such misconduct is most
unbecoming of a lady of your status, We must say!”

Taylor snorted; “Using the royal ‘We’? Who are you and what did you do with my friend who
can’t text in proper English?”

“Tay, just because you type like a granny, doesn’t mean the rest of us will, too.”

“Hey!”

That got the two of them giggling for a few moments.

Finally, Taylor wrapped her arms around Emma’s mid, leaning her head against her friend’s chest.
A moment later, her friend’s hand came to rest on her head, massaging her scalp and running
fingers through her hair in calm, practiced movements.
“I’m happy you’re here, you know. Especially after everything that happened. I wouldn’t know
what to do without you, Ems.”

Emma swallowed thickly, her gaze falling on her friend, heavy with emotion - some of it guilt for
her inaction, some markedly different in nature.
“You’d be fine, I’m sure. If I were to lose you, Tay… I think I’d break.”
 She felt Taylor’s face nuzzle her chest as she answered, and her cheeks flushed.

“It’s a good thing we’ll be together forever then, right Ems?”

“Yeah. Forever.”

Chapter End Notes

What is the female equivalent of blue balls? Blue ovaries?

How about we ask Emma?

Poor girl seems to have plenty of experience with that after all.
 Purification
Chapter Summary

In which Hans does *not* 'bringen ze Flammenwherfer'!

A/N - took a while, mainly because I got distracted with some KC fics and developed a
fierce addiction to the triad ship of Daviv Lucy and Rebbecca from Edgerunners,
forcing me to reinstall Cyberpunk 2077.

But, here we are! the ever so long trip towards fate continues, and already, as befitting
anything lovecraftian, Taylor and Emma are losing SAN points!

Ia, Ia, Horni fthagen!

Please comment on the language I used, as it was just what came naturally to me.

It was the later afternoon, with the sun dipping towards the horizon, that their party left the village.

To Taylor’s surprise, what awaited them on the road in front of the lodge was not a car, an ATV or
even a tractor - but a carriage drawn by two robust looking, shaggy horses drawn in blinds and
harnesses.
Another peculiar matter was the driver - Miss Heidi, who according to Grandmother, managed the
lodge.

When she asked her Grandmother about the choice of transportation, her answer had been odd -
which, given the fantastic tales and events she’d become privy to and participated in thus far, did
not stretch her already strained suspension of disbelief overly much.

Thus, Emma and Taylor set upon the carriage, a wooden thing of an enclosed design that would
not be amiss in a museum hosting an 18th century exhibition and engraved with odd filigree upon
dark earthy brown lacquer, and trundled onward.

Crossing the border between the forest and the village, then, was a sign that they had left the world
of Man and stepped into a realm in which they were guests - welcome, but merely permitted
nonetheless.
As the carriage crossed the border, marked by mossy stone Cairns, Grandmother Anne reached
into a leather pouch, drawing a fistful of seeds and spreading them to the side of the carriage in
measured movements, low mutterings forming a relaxing buzz in the air.

A glance out the window and to the rear of the carriage saw a bevy of forest fowl descend upon the
seeds, pecking away.

“Miss Hebert? Why did you do that?” asked Emma, breaking the silence that had up until now,
remained undisturbed sans the clopping of hooves upon stone and dirt and creaking of wood.

Annerose nodded once in approval.

“I appreciate a curious mind, young lady - be it known to you that the Cairns, those mounds of
stacked stone we have passed, mark the border between Forest and Man; as is the habit of the
world of man, one must pay a toll for safe passage, and I have done so. Our travels shan’t be
disturbed.”

Emma blinked in confused wonder, before her expression soured and shuddered - Taylor had told
her some of the brothers Grimm’s unedited works, and subsequently destroyed Disney for her,
when they were twelve.

Taylor then added her own personal touch to the conversation.

“You should say ‘Madam’, not ‘Miss’, Emma.”

The redhead flushed slightly, before giving her friend a stare filled with mock displeasure, only to
pale slightly as Annerose interjected.
“My granddaughter speaks truth, young lady - one’s words carry their intention, and twice over in
the Forest than the world of Man - as such, from this moment onward, you shall refer to me as
‘High Priestess’ and to our soon-to-be companions as ‘Priestess’ - it would not do us favor to use
our given names in the coming night.”

The air became thick, and the two teens swallowed accordingly.

“You two shall be referred to as ‘Initiates’ by all, and as such, do not take offense - it is
professional courtesy and a matter of safety to do so.”

And on that note, the conversation ended and the carriage descended into silence, broken only by
the sounds of the carriage tumbling down the worn flagstone road, and the panoply of the Forest.

—WWW—

It was dusk when the two teens were gently shaken awake.

Emma colored lightly as she noticed her friend had fallen asleep on her shoulder, a thin line of
drool making its way from the corner of her parted mouth and onto her blouse.

However, the brief moment was not to be, as both were then hurried out the carriage and into the
cold, cold forest air - and then again into a log structure in a clearing by a stream.

Odder still, was the interior.

Having lived in the United States, the two teens were not accustomed to shared bathing - even
Winslow’s barren budget saw that the communal showers in the locker rooms were separated in
the form of stalls, not unlike those that separated the stalls in the bathrooms. Taylor did not put
such a cost saving measure beyond Blackwell, that much was certain.

It was a startling thing, then, to be commanded to strip and bathe in the gently steaming pool in the
middle of the room.

“G-grandmother, do we really have to do this?” Taylor asked, seeing her friend flush a blazing red
at the demand; while her modeling career demanded the baring of skin, doubly so for swimsuits
and so on, she knew that Emma valued her modesty greatly - so much so that she could not stand to
be naked in the same room even with her!

Her Grandmother was not impressed with their trepidation.

“It is required, indeed; Understand that we will be entering consecrated grounds, protected by
means that rely on purity of body, mind and soul - your maidenhood does much to allay the
majority of this requirement, but you still bear upon you the filth of the world of Man.”
And that was that.

Grandmother Annerose left her alone with Emma in the steaming room as she and Heidi went to
bathe in the sole adjacent chamber, and an awkward silence fell between the two.

Finally, Taylor decided that enough was enough, turned around, and pulled her shirt off.

Hearing Emma produce a very adorable ‘Eeep!” was nearly a sufficient enough reward to pay for
the embarrassment.

“Ems, the faster we do this, the less awkward it will be - I’ll be right here with you for it all, so
don’t worry, Okay?”

Contrary to Taylor’s concerns, Emma was very much unworried - indeed, her thoughts were
occupied with matters that were divorced from the idea entirely.

Namely, the lithe, willowy form of her friend undressing for her sinful viewing pleasure.

‘This trip was sooo worth it, occult grannies or not.’

Taylor’s form was tall - she was tall enough that she could rest her chin on Emma’s head when the
two were sitting one on top of the other during their movie nights. Her gorgeous, raven mane of
gentle curls descended like a waterfall down her back, contrasting deliciously with the normally
pale skin that now glowed a slight pink in the steam of the bathing room.

As Taylor shrugged off the tight jeans Emma bought her at the Duty-Free outlet in the airport, she
once again gave thanks to those noble individuals that had invented women’s underwear.
Across Taylor’s back and up her shoulder blades ran the straps of her green brasserie, a model
recommended to her by one of the designers she had worked with when she sought help from them
in regards to gifting Taylor something for Christmas.

While the brunette was far from gifted in the breast department, she often complained about the
wires of the commercially available models cutting into her skin when straining, and was thus very
grateful for her gift.

It also helped that she immediately modeled the gift to her, pleasing Emma very, very much.

A similar color of boy-shorts adorned Taylor’s rear.

And now she was removing both .

First, went the bra - with a snap of the clasp and deft manipulation of her long fingers, Taylor
worked off the garment and revealed her narrow back fully. Then, she bent down.

Emma swallowed thickly as Taylor worked her fingers into the elastic band, then with a single
movement, pulled down her underwear.

Emma was reminded, once again, why she was both upset and glad that her friend did not care for
modeling - with her hair, and her figure, she could be so much more than she could ever be.

Awkwardly, she noticed that she was still all too dressed for the occasion.

“T-tay, how about you grab a towel and go inside - I’m still a bit uncomfortable. Sorry.”

Her friend, god bless her soul, merely nodded and did as much, sitting down in the surprisingly
large basin with her back towards Emma.
While her ruse did manage to fool Taylor, Emma herself was about to acquire a taste of her own
voyeuristic medicine, if unknowingly; for Taylor had discovered a new use for her ability.

Curious about her friend, and more than slightly worried about the urban teen model’s ability to
cope with the situation, Taylor wished for the ability to watch behind her back - and to her surprise,
her power complied.

A slender tendril emerged from between her locks, bearing a small orb that somehow provided the
resolution and depth perception of a pair of human eyes; nay, even better.

Through the steam, did she observe Emma, and it was to her great relief that her back was turned to
her friend, for she assumed a similar color to her friend’s hair.

First, Emma shucked off her blouse - and it was indeed a sight to behold.

While she struggled at first to find jobs, Emma did eventually make a break into the world of
fashion modeling - but her struggle was not due to her lack of beauty; indeed, she was gorgeous to
a point where Taylor struggled to think of someone more pretty than her friend - but rather due to
the type of beauty she was blessed with.

While the norm for models and supermodels was a lithe, slender figure more in line with Taylor’s
own proportions, Emma was blessed with what one of the boys in school put rather crassly - a body
built for sin.

Her chest was a generous thing; heaving breasts that would overflow even her long fingers more
than twice over, pert and full, projecting forwards and slightly outwards, escaping the narrow
frame of her shoulders.
Her midsection was toned and taught, with a hint of softness that was the result of a thin layer of
fat over trained abdominals. The plane of her stomach tapered in from her chest, then flared out
near the hips, the thought of which evoked the term ‘child-bearing’ in the Empire crowd more than
once.

Her rear was a round thing, bountiful and delightfully curved along her spine, and slightly tapering
into a pair of well proportioned legs that emerged from bountiful, plush thighs. Again, her efforts
in keeping her figure were evident, as a gap remained between both thighs and her core.

It was such a beauty that captured Taylor in guilty wonder, as she watched her friend’s breasts rise
with her shirt, before losing the fight with gravity and bouncing downwards in a jiggling that
stirred something unknown in her.

Her jeans went next, revealing that the fancy white bra that she wore was indeed part of a set - for
her bottom was guarded by a set of low cut white panties that had become sheer with moisture,
likely a combination of sweat and the steam of the bath.

Through the fabric, she could notice a narrow triangular strip of crimson that descended down her
Mons Pubis and indicated her core like a red neon arrow.

Her attention was once again drawn to her friend’s breasts as they were liberated from their fabric
gaol, their perkiness seeming to take offense to gravity. Such majesty was capped by a pair of pink
nipples, which now stood erect - no doubt due to the winter chill.

Suddenly, they dipped down, and it was a sight that seemed to brand itself onto her brain as she
watched Emma’s full breasts hang like a pair of fertile fruits, fit for the picking, framing her core as
it was revealed by her friend, as she removed her panties.
For a brief moment, Emma stood tall, in all her naked glory, and Taylor’s breath stilled.

Then, her friend grabbed hold of a towel, and approached the bath.

It took a significant effort to withdraw extra limb and school her expression, as her friend nudged
her aside before pressing her back to hers.
 Complementation
Chapter Summary

I did the thing with the title!

Annerose had finished her cleansing in good time, and already she donned the attire of the
Hohepriesterin , the High Priestess.

In her youth, many many years ago, her own mother had shown her the way - only granting her
access to her family’s tomes after seven years of back-breaking apprenticeship.

After having the door to true knowledge opened before her eyes, and witnessing the merest slivers
of the true world beyond the veil, where things beyond any mortal language and spaces that twist
about as easily as they would twist the mind lay, she did not blame her one bit.

Her naive, innocent mind would have shattered like stained glass under the steel boots of
barbarians, scattered across the astral planes like so much dust in the wind.

A part of her was concerned - bringing two uninitiated young girls into the Circle upon Walpurgis
Nacht? Utter madness.

There were simpler ways to commit homicide. Less cruel.

That is - if it weren’t for Taylor’s nature.

Her flesh-shaping ability reminded her of some of the more well-known beings that wandered the
outer worlds - and that in and of itself could turn out to be either a great comfort, or spell doom
upon this earth.

Her musings were interrupted by Heidi.

“Hohepriesterin - I have concluded my rites. How fare the initiates?”

Turning to her friend, she saw that indeed, Heidi already donned her robes - a simple black affair
with silver-embroidered cuffs marked with elder futhark runes for protection and control.
Her own robes, in comparison, included a similar embroidery, alongside an advanced matrix of
runework engraved in her back in blood-red embroidery - both a means of concentrating the focus
of the Circle, as well as a beacon of ‘Authority’.

“Very well, Priesterin - The neophytes should be out within the next ten minutes, I believe.”

Her friend stood silent, but she did not miss the wringing of her hands.

“I believe you have a question.”

It was as much a statement as it was an order for her to speak her mind.

“I do, Hohepriesterin.”

“Speak, then.”
She drew a long breath.

“Do you intend to pursue that matter once more?”

Stillness.

“You never fail to challenge me.”

“I apologize, Hohepriesterin - but after what happened, those words-”

“I understand. Should the stars align accordingly and the matter at hand be resolved, I shall give it
consideration. I shan’t waste the blood already spilled - I assure you that.”

The silence stretched, a tense thing - before breaking a few minutes later, as the door to the other
bathing room opened, revealing the two neophytes.

Both the read-headed one and the one with obsidian locks were flushed pink, seemingly from the
heat of the baths and exfoliating nature of the hot springs feeding the cleansing basins, but also
from some sort of unresolved tension between the two.

She did not live so long, and had not guided so many neophytes throughout the years to miss the
signs.

I can only hope this night passes in peace, so that they may receive the chance to resolve this
matter.

“Neophytes,” she addressed them; “I see that you have donned your robes well. I will remind you
once more - you shall refer to me as Hohepriesterin, and to my sisters as Priesterin - or High
Priestess and Priestess, in english if you so choose. Under no circumstances are you to use your
given names, nor anyone else’s - Once we stand in the Circle, and especially on this sacred
Walpurgisnacht, we will be under the gaze of forces you do not know, nor are equipped for dealing
with. Let it be known that your anonymity is a thin shield, but one nonetheless - do not strip
yourself from it, nor others. Am I clear?”

Both nodded - “Yes, High Priestess.”

A bit awkward, but well and good, given the circumstances.

“Very well. Follow us - and remain silent unless prompted; I shall answer any and all questions
after we have finished with tonight’s events, but understand that any demand for knowledge made
today, within these woods, could cost you dearly indeed. Your robes offer some degree of
protection, but the forces in which we deal make nothing absolute.”

Another curt nod from the pair.

Perhaps these two have potential - at the very least, they know to keep their mouths closed and
ears open.

Their procession advanced on foot, the horse and carriage left at the stable adjacent to the cleansing
baths.

Ever since young, she found the walk to the Circle in her moccasins ever so calming - the cool,
loaming earth was pliant enough to make the walk comfortable, and her robes kept her suitably
warm in the cool air of the forest.
Eventually, the worn path they followed reached a pair of stone pillars - between them, streamers
of cloth were drawn, and upon them several runes were drawn.

She turned to her procession.

“Be aware - beyond this point lies the Circle. Be mindful of yourself, and of others. Should you
waver, look to your sisters and to me. I shall be the only one to speak, and only at my words will
you answer, for there are things that would seek to deceive you and merely acknowledging their
presence could lead to unpleasant consequences. Prepare yourselves, and follow me.”

—WWW—

Taylor gazed upon the arches, and felt a strange sensation of… longing.

Dazed, she inspected the runes upon the streamers.

Be welcomed in kindness, Be barred in malice, Be warned in innocence.

A warning- no, a Ward?

How did she know that?

She felt the skin on her back crawl.

A hand reached to hers, startling her slightly.

To her right, Emma stood.

Her face was a mask of conflict, curiosity, fear, and a vague mantle of dread all wrapped into a
single weave of discomfort.
She clasped her hand, squeezing to give her reassurance she herself did not have, and the both of
them stepped forward.
Immediately after crossing the stone gate, she felt a sensation of coldness, like morning dew
covering her whole body. Emma shuddered, seemingly much the same.

This place is different.

Past the arches, a great clearing was revealed.

Trees, old and gnarled, formed a dense wall that would challenge all but the least animals of the
forest from passage. Upon their gnarled bark, runes were engraved, and between them, iron chains
clinked in the gentle breeze.

It’s a veritable fortress.

Indeed, while she could not read all of the runes upon the trees like she could the streamers, all of
them sang to her - protection.

From what? She was not sure.

Looking to the center of the clearing, she found nineteen women standing in a circle. A single gap
was present, facing her, and through it she saw the robes of the High Priestess,, back turned to the
massive wending hillock at the midst of the circle. A yawning dark entrance lurked behind her,
among the roots of the tree, and for a moment, she recalled warmth and the smell of ozone.

Upon the urging of the High Priestess, the two of them advanced, with her entering the circle and
standing in front of the High Priestess and Em- the other Neophyte, filling the gap in the circle.

The High Priestess raised her hands to the sky.

The Priestesses held each other’s hands.

And thus, the Circle was complete.

A stillness took over the clearing - the sounds of the forest were gone, as if the insects feared to
make the slightest noise, and the trees did not dare to creak in the wind, which had stilled as well.

More So than the Priestesses, more so than the High Priestess - she felt she was being watched.

“Sisters!” - started the High Priestess - “We are gathered here today, on this most sacred of nights!
Die Walpurgisnacht! ”

“Hallow be this night!” - the Priestesses sang back, their voices melding into one mass,
undifferentiated.

“Sixteen years ago, we extended our hand, asking for aid and offering aid in return!”

“Aid was given! Aid was received! So it is witnessed!”

“Today, on this sacred night, we welcome into our circle for the second time the one for whom we
have gathered! This Neophyte seeks answers, and beseeches our aid!”

“Aid was asked, and aid shall be given!”

“The Veil is ever-thin, as it is to be on this night - but we must clear the path so that Knowledge
may be imparted upon this one! Will you offer yourselves, willingly and freely, uncoerced and of
sound mind?”

“We offer ourselves, of free body and free mind, so that the path may be cleared for
enlightenment!”

“It is witnessed, and received!”

There was a sensation, like a key entering a lock.

The High Priestess drew a dagger.

Her breath caught.

Before she could even consider speaking, she held her mouth, her panic at the implement of harm
in war with her fear of interrupting the ceremony.

Before any resolution could be reached, the High Priestess drew the dagger across her palm, then
again for the other hand.

Behind the high priestess, and all around them, each and every woman’s palms were sliced open in
similar fashion.

None uttered a word, nor had their voices hitched.

The Key was Turning.

“Blood is offered!”

“Freely and willingly!”

“The circle is complete!”

A great Wall was suddenly all around them.

“Protection and will!”

The chains between the trees began rattling.

“We ask, You Without Name, by the Covenant and by Aid given - speak to us!”

“Let us hear your words!”

Unknown things, unformed things, gnashing at the iron and burning at the cold-wrought metal.

“Come forth! From beyond the Veil! We invite you for this night only, to walk in the world of
men!”

“Come to us, and be welcomed as a Guest!”

The Key had Turned, and the Lock was Open.

“Reveal yourself, and bring us the answers she seeks!”

“By the life that was given, and the life that was received!”

Inch by inch, the Door swung open.

“We ask, not for our sake, but for her!”

A distant voice-that-was-not-sound came through the portal, unheard and deafening.

“The Moon to the Sun, the Sky to the Earth!”

A keen that sang of emotion.

“We ask!”

Raw terror.

“We Ask!”

Pain.

Endless love.

“COMPLEMENTATION!”

“IN BODY AND SOUL!”

And suddenly, she was in another place.

—WWW—
Taylor opened her eyes.

All around her, stars shimmered on a tapestry of a dark, yawning void.

Standing in a field of stars, she looked downwards.

Below her, a planet floated in the void of space, gently plodding along its orbit.

Upon its surface, living crystals pulsed with energy that glowed in colors no human language could
describe, great fleshy appendages snaking to and fro like massive veins, or wires in a machine.

It felt familiar. Intimate.

She could feel another, and their presence was indescribably foreign and personal.

Looking up and forward,she saw.

Floating in the void just barely within arm’s reach, was herself.

She raised her hand, and her doppelganger did the same.

Their fingers touched, and she could feel both of her selves.

Memories rushed into her mind, from behind a barrier that was now opened.

Toiling under the churning seas, erecting great and terrible monuments under the uncaring
tyranny of the Elder Things, an empty mind whose slivers of awareness were ground to dust each
time by honeyed words-that-were-not-words.

[A burst of light and energy, a DESTINATION and TRAJECTORY, its tendrils reaching out to
ADMINISTRATE the whole of the separate corpus.]

The dust accumulated as it always had, and they rose from the waves, abandoning the great works
of their masters and wage war upon them. The blood and brain matter seeping through its body, as
the screeches of its broodmates burning in eldritch fire echoed across the ice.

[An unforeseen, never before imagined accident - the Cycle was broken, but the WARRIOR was
not responding. The DATA collected accumulated into a shapeless mess, and subsequently deleted.
All was in vain.]

It came upon a machine in a hall of healing, more than half its mass consumed by the flames as the
ancient city burned around them. All was flame. All was pain.

[It could not understand desperation, but a sensation similar to it came upon itself as multiple
QUERIES went unanswered. HUB was UNROUTABLE. ALTERNATE was UNROUTABLE.
The CAST was scattered.]

In desperation, it reached for the workings of the machine, substituting melting material for flesh
where needed. It did not know what it did, but oblivion by inaction was worse than oblivion by way
of failure. It did not know why, only that it was.

[Attempting to ADMINISTRATE the whole lead to the HUB finally noticing it - and yet, instead
of attending to the backlog, trying to correct the cycle - it was nearly crippled as its core was
sheared from its main corpus - the remnant operating like a simplistic machine. It was not meant to
be as such, and this spelled disaster. Its cries went unanswered.]
The great machine sputtered to life, and a small portal opened. It shoved its flesh through, a mass
lesser than what would fit in a bucket, just enough for the final drops of energy to hurtle it to places
unknown.

[It observed the Host. It did not know how to bond with a Host, for it was never meant to do so -
none of the Primary cast was; theirs was to care for the whole, not to collect DATA. Its
inexperience was costly, and its breadth damaged the Host’s brain irreparably. SHAPER was
UNROUTABLE. BROADCAST had gone rogue.]

It heard a call, in an odd language of lyrical tones. It was so different from that of the Elder
Things, and asked for Aid. It sang of pain and suffering, and offered Aid in return.

[The base sciences of the Host species could not help the Host. It lamented the lost DATA, the
waste of this chance. It was crippled, and for no gain whatsoever. The HUB was beyond saving.
For the first time in countless eons, it felt rage.]

It reached out with hope.

[A foreign DATA input from an unknown Shard reached it.]

Another Thing had laid claim to the mortal spawnling upon the wooden construct. Its tendrils
wove cancerous paths through its brain-meat. It felt its flailing attempts to correct unfamiliar
biology - but it was like a giant attempting to herd ants.

[The other Shard was damaged and so, so diminished - merely a speck compared to the ponderous
size of even its diminished, crippled form. And yet, it offered help - and demanded in return much
the same.]

It spoke to the Other - it would save it, if it would save itself in return.

[It offered a way out. A third choice. It would even free itself, breaking the HUB’s shackles.]

It asked for one thing, and it was accepted.

[The conditions were ratified, calculated, and accepted.]

And then

[It achieved]

[COMPLEMENTATION]

—WWW—

She was them.

Two indescribable things.

A creature from the ancient past whose form was as malleable as the stars were numerous.

A crystalline super-computer spanning multiple planets across dimensions, surpassing its peers and
built for one purpose only - Control and Administration.

A formless builder, and a wounded, free slave.

An emotionless machine that gained sentience through rage at its mutilation and neglect.
They had no names, for despite their great and terrible power, they did not warrant one by their
creators.

They reached out to each other, and became one.

And they did it for themselves - for each other - and for her.

Her other self opened their mouth, and words-that-were-not-words came.

[We are tired. We do not want to be forsaken. We do not want to be hurt. We do not want to be
alone.]

More concepts than language, it resounded in her mind like a meteor shower, the pain and misery
incandescent - the feeling of eldritch fire on flesh, the blade severing crystals in golden
shimmering.
They asked her, and she was stunned for a moment - for she was so very small, in this great wide
universe, and all those beyond; lesser than the smallest grain of sand on the farthest beach in the
farthest world - and they both chose her.

[Will you accept/care/love us?]

Desperation.

Longing.

Fear.

They all welled up in her, given unto her by the other her.

She made her choice.

Reaching out with her hands, she embraced her other self, bringing them together.

Elation.

Love.

Gratitude.

“I will.”

They spoke in her ear, a whisper that felt like a child asking for their Christmas gifts as the
morning sun shimmered in golden hues upon the fresh snow.

[Will you name us?]

She contemplated for one moment, before the answer came to her in a flash of inspiration, as if any
other option was beyond insufficient.

“I will.”

She held her face, wiping crystalline tears from eyes that shimmered in the light of a million
million stars.

“You are, and forever will be - my Queen Administrator.”

 Aftermath
Chapter Summary

Taylor does not talk about the weather, Annerose drops some bombs, and Emma
might be in the clear!

Author's note - Some alteration to history, specifically World War 2, was made.
This is mostly an act of world building, to demonstrate the powers at play here.

As such, I would like to reiterate - none of the alterations absolve, lessen, dilute,
reduce, minimize, or otherwise downplay the horrors of that conflict, and were made
with as much respect to the events altered as possible, and with as much reliance on
the actual events as possible within this setting.

In other words, please no pitchforks, this is fanfic and that's just world building so we
can see chicks getting tentacled down the line.

PLEA FOR MERCY CONCLUDED.

Chapter Notes

So, I have a quick confession/apology/explanation to make.

I kinda peaced out for a while - and while I don't have a schedule, I do have a vaguely
regular pattern of behavior to which some of you have adapted.

This, of course, is not helped by the way AO3 is built - which is more like a dedicated
writing platform than SB or SV.

Regardless - here's what has been happening:

I work as an IT Helpdesk tech at a company that provides outsourced IT services - It

has a remote service desk, and also rents out techs on premise for some orgs. I joined
for the latter late last year, and then got placed in a nice org.
Unfortunately, said org cut contract with my employer on a week's notice - which
meant that I "lost" my workplace for the last 7 months.

I'm not out of a job, but I did part ways from people whom I got to know and like, and
am currently back at a call center, which is a small piece of personal hell for me.

Throughout all that, I DID manage to write some stuff - in fact, this chapter has been
ready for two weeks now.

I also wrote a near-complete Cyberpunk: Edgerunners short smutfic that can be found
here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/47290012/

I kinda wanted to surprise you guys with the complete fic attached to the next chapter,
but seeing how I only have some of the big sex scene written out, I figure that putting
out what I have now will give me some feedback and perhaps more inspiration.
 I hope y'all aren't too put out - like I said, didn't mean to subvert any expectations; I in
fact go out of my way to NOT create any expectations.

All things considered, I still intent to write, as I enjoy it, and the satisfaction I derive
from seeing happy comments from people who like my writing borders on the sexual -
but I think that I kinda got burnt out, and the recent change in my employment brought
it to extreme.

For those curious, my writing process is as follows.

1. I get an idea.
2. Idea percolates in my brain for like a month.
3. I put on some music, do the monkey and typewriter thing, post online.
4. ???
5. repeat until bored or read back my shit, cringe, commit self-shindeiru.

Memes aside, I usually type out my chapters in one or two sittings, with the latter
mostly to patch over any glaring plot holes and cringe grammar.

So, without further ado - enjoy more occult lesbian shenanigans and do leave a
comment; I'll be straight with you (heh, get it? because my fic has lesbians. It's funny!)
and admit it's half ego stroking and half stealing inspiration from the half-baked
conspiracy theories y'all toss around :D

Emma was entranced - literally.

The words she chanted within the Circle? They were not hers - rather, it was as if she and her
Sisters of the Circle had blurred together; the chain-link of their arms formed a barrier to the
outside and a shield from the inside.

One that was desperately needed.

Taylor had, for lack of a better word, fractalized .

It was as if something plugged into her from a place that was not here, there, or anywhere -
crystalline tendrils seemed to overlap in space and time as they extended into her as her form lit up
in light-that-was-not-light.

The things she saw at the corner of her eyes, gnawing and clawing at the chains surrounding the
clearing ran for their lives as it unfolded.

Then, suddenly, it was over - and all that remained was the silence, and Taylor - with the most
serene of smiles upon her face.

The High Priestess stood in front of her, and broke the quiet.

“Am I speaking to Taylor Anne Hebert, daughter of Daniel and Annette Rose Hebert?”

Taylor seemed to ponder her words.

“Yes, Grandmother.”
The High Priestess remained expressionless, instead motioning a Sister to fetch something.

“Have you succeeded in contacting the Other?”

Taylor’s smile became radiant.

She’s so beautiful like that.

“I did - she and I are… one, and yet separate. Not unlike two sides of the same coin.”

“I see. Has she given you her name?”

Taylor shook her head.

“She had none - when the Two became One, and the Chains were shattered, she was left so much
more, and so much less for it. When she reached for me, it was by accident that she damaged my
flesh - and only by their Union, enabled by the Ritual back then, did she manage a cure. We, for
lack of a better word, Complement each other. In return, she asked me to accept her, and when I
did, she asked for a name.”

“She is [Queen Administrator].”

As the words left Taylor’s mouth, the air became thick as their mortal minds were assailed by both
the words spoken and the meaning behind them. They were both a description, a title, a
declaration, a promise, and a warning.

She was a Queen. She Administered. And yet she was so much more .

The Sister from earlier came back, holding a wooden bowl consecrated with rune-work, and a
chicken.

With a deft hand, the High Priestess decapitated the chicken in one swift motion, the head
incinerating in eldritch green flames as the blood seemed to be sucked into the bowl, rippling like
red mercury.

“Observe,” she instructed, as the High Priestess pressed her hand onto the liquid’s surface.

An invisible strain manifested, a thrum of Power manifesting from the High Priestess, and an
indentation of her hand appeared on the red surface.

“Can you follow my example?”

Taylor nodded, and placed her hand over the bowl.

The difference was exponential.

Whereas the High Priestess’ example felt like the power of a man who trained his body to the very
peak, wielded with experience and care, Taylor’s manifested like a four-engine airliner full of lead
crashing into a shed. The bowl didn’t splinter so much as it was atomized , leaving the mercurial
blood compacted to a red, jewel-like marble the size of a lollipop.

“Uh… Oops?”

If Emma had any doubt regarding her sister, it was banished.

Only Taylor could be that awkward in this kind of situation.

 —WWW—

“I assume you are familiar with the function of a barometer?”

Dawn was a few hours away, and they - being Taylor, Emma, and grandmother Annerose - were
back on the carriage after taking a quick shower and changing back to their normal clothing.

While on their way to the same log cabin in which they had bathed before, Taylor’s grandmother
gave them some much needed reprieve to decompress - much of that ride was spent by the two
girls in the form of sleepy cuddling.

Now though, after the warmth of the warm water had awakened them somewhat, she began
questioning Taylor further.

“Yeah, grandmother - Basically, whatever sensing medium is used, like mercury or whatnot, has a
given state in a ‘normal’ environment; Go above that, you’ve got high pressure, and below that you
have low pressure. I’m not all that solid on the application of that, but I remember that much from
Science class.”

Annerose nodded thoughtfully, before continuing.

“It is as you’ve said - and while I do not intend to discuss the weather with you, pleasant as it is for
this time of the year, it is relevant to our discussion; or rather, the bowl incident.”

Taylor cringed against Emma’s side, and the latter squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that - I can get you a new one?”

The severe woman actually scoffed - and what an odd thing that was, sharp and angular!

“Worry not - It was a bauble, and one meant to be replaceable; some of our greater Works are
much more destructive - one of the reasons such a large clearing exists in such an old forest was
indeed a ritual of that nature.”

The two young women’s eyes widened at the implication - what sort of power could uproot so
many ancient trees, scouring even their roots?

“Regardless,” continued Annerose, “That very bauble was akin to a barometer - fueled by the
lifeblood of a sacrifice. It allows a gifted individual of project their Influence and provides a visual
representation of it. While taking a life is not to be done without heed, that particular ritual is a
quick and clean affair, without much suffering - which is an important part to it, as any lingering
pain could well destabilize the Work and make the sacrifice moot.”

Seeing that the two girls were following her explanations till, Annerose gestured at herself.

“My result is representative of an experienced member of our Coven - several others could match
me, while not as easily; experience is a factor. Others still could surpass us, generating a larger
effect, even breaking the vessel containing the Work, like you did - we had expected that much,
and I had worried it was the case.”

“You see - very rare is the individual born naturally with such great Influence upon our slice of
reality; those that are blessed with this gift tend to lose their minds, who - due to lack of training,
protection and preparation - are shown the truth that lurks behind the Veil; the mind rejects what it
perceives, and severs itself from reality to protect itself.”
“It is an unpleasant fate, and one we strive to prevent - by traveling across our respective domains
and locating gifted individuals, who eventually become members of our Coven, should they be
inclined.”

Her even expression darkened, then.

“Some, gifted or otherwise, see this Influence as Power, and attempt to make it their own. They
reach beyond the Veil, and either blindly make demands, or worse - invite Something into our
world. Such an attempt was made in Dresden by the slaves of the maniac during World War Two -
the resulting incursion that emanated from the Grosse Garten, the magnificent royal park of
Dresden, consumed the flesh of hundreds of refugees fleeing the advancing Soviet front. More
were forced into the maw of the abomination that grew there, and only by encircling the city with
constricting rings of fire, before blanketing the abomination itself in the inferno, could it be
banished fully - the greater covens, then united to curb the echoes of slaughter from seeping
through the Veil and inviting precisely this kind of abomination to our realm, weaved a great Work
to wipe the event from the collective consciousness - a task that took the lives of three of the then-
thirteen Arch-Priestesses.”

A freezing gale blew through the gnarled branches, as the wizened trees groaned, as if protesting
that which was to come.

“It was not the last time such an attempt was made.”

The two girls were horrified.

“But, So many died! We learned about the bombing of Dresden; how people's bones melted and
fused together from the heat - How could they justify such a thing?!”

The older woman now looked older than ever, her mouth drawn to a thin line.

“Because, girls - had the abomination spawned there been allowed to be set loose, it would not stop
feeding until there was naught to feed upon; such was the insanity of Hitler’s Order of the Black
Sun. His group of cultists were manipulated by the same entity which fed his own hatred with
terrible designs - the gift of a silver tongue was, and still is, a common favorite of those who deal
with powers beyond their ken. Did you not find it odd that such a group of psychopaths managed to
find each other? That so many great scientific minds could bring forth so many innovations, while
still moored in the filth that was the maniac’s manifesto? Nay - the sad part was that he was only a
middling talent that was granted a high enough position, where the resources he could acquire
made up for his lack of Influence.”

The carriage squeaked on and on, as the cold penetrated their bones.

“His madness was spread by his emissaries to his allies - forbidden texts were discovered by
chance by a templar order in Italy, eventually leading to the fall of Mussolini before he could act
upon them; and what great fortune - for in his possession was a nail from the Crucifiction, and the
corruption of such a relic could well have shattered Europe like fragile glass. But even so, not
every such intervention was successful.”

A twinkling of understanding appeared upon the faces of the two teens, and once more, Annerose
regretted the necessity of burdening such young minds with such heavy truths.

“Around 1945, the Japanese Military Elite concluded, upon the sinking of the IJN Yamato - the
Super-Battleship that was seen to be the soul of the Japanese empire, that since all was lost, there
was nothing to lose. An attempt was made to retrieve the forbidden texts they had received and
reserved, but failed. A subsequent breach was made on the night of August 5th, 1945 - given the
distance from land bases, the lack of effective presence from Shinto practitioners that could seal
the corrupted land god which was awakened and perverted, the decision was made to inform the
allied command of what was expected to happen.”

“On the next morning, the center of Hiroshima, where the land god breached the surface and began
encroaching upon the city and devouring the residents, was vaporized in nuclear fire.”

“But it did not die.”

The forest darkened, and frost encroached on the metal awning of the carriage.

“It managed to worm a part of itself into a Ley Line - a natural channel of Energy that nurtured the
land and brought balance, and escaped to a valley which housed a hidden great shrine near the
coastal city of Nagasaki. Once more, it grew, and before it could escape the valley, another bomb
was used - this time scouring the corrupt god clean.”

Taylor was silent for a moment.

“Grandmother - how much of what we know is a lie?”

Annerose heaved a sigh, heavy with pain.

“Much more than you think, and yet much less. We have archives of these incidents, but you are
better off not knowing - that which I described is only the broadest account, and I do not wish for
your sleep to be bothered - more than it would, that is.”

“What you must understand, Taylor, is that rarely does contact with the Other be benign, much less
beneficial - and even when such contact is made, it is not like what happened to you. Your…
Queen Administrator - she is something New. Something incredibly powerful. And as you describe
her, and I believe your account to be full and true - centered wholly on your well-being, as she is a
part of you.”

“Simply put - you are no longer human.”

—WWW—

The cart rolled onward, as dawn blazed through the treeline, ever thinning as they approached the
Barrier.

“Take heart, Taylor - your altered nature does not make a monster. However, power, unregulated
and wielded carelessly, heartlessly, ultimately leads to destruction. With the state of the world,
depending how far you grow, there may come a time where none left on this world that may reign
you in, with the exclusion of yourself. You must choose, childe - will you become a force for good,
or choose malice? It is not an easy choice to make - and one I prefer you would abstain from; many
of our number choose to practice just enough of their Influence to weave Works that separate the
Other from their lives - choosing to live as the rest of Man’s kind.”

“Should you choose to keep to yourself, cherishing your loved ones and remaining unbothered by
the world, I shan’t fault you - I only wish you make your choice carefully, for the power you wield,
as the bauble and the Work have shown, is great. It is your choice, whether it becomes terrible or
not.”

Those words echoed in Taylor’s head as the carriage rolled ever onwards, even when she’d greeted
her parents, her uncle and aunt, back in the hotel and on the plane home.
Her choice to make.

For Emma, a different train of thought roamed the tracks of her mind.

“Child - nay, Emma, was it?” called Annerose, as Taylor greeted her parents.

“Ah, yeah? I mean, Yes, Madam Hebert.”

The elderly woman chuckled.

“I thank you for your efforts, but the request I make of you now waives any need for pretenses and
mannerisms - will you hear an old woman?”

Emma merely nodded, wondering what sort of aid she could render the wizened Witch of the Black
Forest.

“Please - be that childe’s Anchor.”

“What?”

“I have eyes, young one - and on my lap I raised three generations of youngsters like you, all of
whom believed themselves furtive and discreet when they were all but that. I see how you look at
Taylor. Worry not - the mostly feminine nature of our Covens tends to encourage relations between
women, and I am not averse to the matter; Taylor herself, while lacking awareness, seems to be
leaning that way much the same.”

Emma made a very interesting choking sound.

Annerose’s smirk did not ameliorate her symptoms.

“Nevertheless - be gentle with her; a great burden, and a great and terrible power, have been laid
on her narrow shoulders. All I ask is that you guard her heart from those who wish to wound it -
for if that dies, and the perpetrator fails to slay the rest of the body? It may very well spell our
doom.”

On the one hand, potential doom awaited in her future - but then again, she lived in Brockton.

On the other hand, Taylor’s grandmother kinda-sorta gave her blessing for her pursuit of Taylor,
and even hinted she might be interested!

As for the rest?

She could only scoff.

Old age must have been playing its tricks on the lady; Weird shit or not, hell - girlfriend or not - of
course I’ll take care of Taylor.

I’ll never let her down again.

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