Disclaimers: All characters belong to rightful owners.
Story concieved by Lee.


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It had been an entire week since the big Festival in Bethlehem Park, but despite this, the same spirit and joy seemed to still hang over the whole of the city. Decorations were thick, both on private houses and on businesses, and there were Santas ringing bells on every street corner. The people, too, were nothing if not infused with the Christmas spirit and it seemed almost a crime not to be joyous. Even the weather reflected this as its mottled greys seemed to promise school-delaying snows in which Eden's children--young and old--could spend hours playing.

Speaking of the children, all of these were in especially high spirits as the last of the school bells released them to the city's care. It was early afternoon on a lovely, if chilly, weekday and, now that they were free, the city seemed to offer nothing but promise.

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Just as soon as his last class ended, Nevan had hurried down the hall to a convenient men's bathroom and, now, as the students rushed out to the waiting buses and cars, he slowly made his way back to his classroom. He needed to get his things together, then he could make his own way home. Though, really, he probably should stop by St. Aurelius' as he did have all those gifts and things he wanted to give the children... and he needed to have a chat with Father Douglas; it'd been far too long.

Lost in these thoughts, Nevan was slow to notice the brightly wrapped package on his desk, but, as soon as he did, his hands paused in their work of placing books into his backpack. A faint smile at his lips, he reached for the package and, thinking that it was all a part of the school's Secret Santa program, he quickly started to unwrap it. Yet, as the gift was revealed, the man made a very faint choking sound and, going noticeably pale, he let the thing tumble from his hands to the desk as he, himself, tumbled back into his chair.

There, on the desk, lay the lovely doll he had bought on his way home from the Festival, yet it was hardly recognizable as such. The clear procelin of its skin was shattered, flecked with viscuous red, so that it was no longer a lovely children's toy but a twisted parody of it.

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Tesu resurfaced into wakefulness, conscious of the light weight of an arm draped over his waist and the heat of another body pressed against his back that, despite its warmth, caused a cold shiver of revulsion to ripple through him. Ausar...

For the past week, the Egyptian had barely let the young dancer out of his sight, punishing him for his day-- and night-- of truancy by lavishing him with his most enthusiastic 'affections'... most of which had left marks. His employer's exuberance would probably prevent him from working his shift at the Guild for at least another week... which would no doubt bring further punishment in the form of his own degradation. As much as he hated and feared physical pain, he almost preferred the open handed slaps or the cut of a riding crop against his flesh than the sly, knowing insinuations that he actually enjoyed his own abasement, that he craved it as a junkie craved smack, that Ausar was only giving Tesu what he, himself, desired. He hated the older man for saying such things to him... mostly because he was afraid the Egyptian was right, otherwise, why would he stay?

A slight shift, followed by the tighter curling of Ausar's arm about his waist signalled the dancer that his employer was awake. "Good afternoon, my angel..." he murmured, his voice a dry, snakelike whisper as he pressed his lips to the back of Tesu's neck. "You've been so good this week, that I think you deserve a small reward-- would you like that?"

"Of course... thank you, Ausar..." Tesu replied automatically, trying to inject the proper amount of enthusiasm into his soft tenor-- Ausar's 'rewards' were rarely anything pleasant, but to appear anything less than grateful would only bring another week of hell.

A soft, low chuckle rumbled in his ear, "I thought you might..." Sitting up, he pulled the young dancer upright as well, firmly cupping his chin in a hand that was surprisingly strong, considering its apparent delicacy. "There is another private party this evening, and they specifically requested you." A small, approving smile graced the older man's lips as he continued, "You've certainly managed to gather quite a loyal following, my love..."

"Yes, Ausar.." he replied, simply because his employer seemed to expect some sort of response.

Chuckling again, the older man wound his arms around the slender dancer's frame, and the dark haired youth was hard put to suppress another shudder of revulsion as warm lips pressed against the side of his neck. "Very well, then. I'll have Finn drive you over, later..." Still gripping the boy's chin, Ausar forced the dove grey gaze up to meet his own, his eyes hard and glittering like obsidian, "But listen well, my sweet..." he said, his voice now containing a cold, steely edge, "You are still on probation... Any further... independence... on your part will have the most... regrettable... consequences-- *If* I decide not to just throw you back in the gutter where I found you, that is."

"Yes, Ausar... I'll remember.."

All smiles and softeness once more, the Egyptian pressed the younger boy back down onto the mattress, covering the slender body with his own, "That is well, then... you know how I hate taking my dark angel to task... so... let us speak of other things..."

Nodding, Tesu forced his most seductive smile as he wound his long limbs around the older man, submitting to him as he submitted to all his employer's demands, even though he hated himself for doing so.

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His movements unusually sluggish, Sam stepped out into the cool air of the afternoon and, sighing softly, he leaned back against the brick wall of the school building. Naturally, he ignored the flow of bodies as they passed him, except to note the now too-familiar revulsion lying just below the skin; he had begun to imagine that it was the same sort of feeling one would get if he were immersed in a bathtub of the most reviled, disgusting insects with no way to escape. Still, he also had convinced himself that this only came from endless nights of sleeplessness. And worry.

Though they both usually tried to hide it well, he _knew_ that something was amiss with both Lukie and Sempai and, though he wanted to ask about it, he didn't know how to go about doing so. Both men tended to have egos which needed to be minded and, beyond that, if the problem were something too... near...

Then, on the other hand, there were the conversations he'd been having with Lucia. Now, _those_ were unique. The girl was convinced that he was some sort of angel with some sort of part to play in some sort of great cosmic bet. Yea, it sounded like something a mental patient'd be spewing as the belts of the jacket were tightened, but...

...but it _explained_ things.

The dreams. The thoughts. The revulsion. Maybe even the fading memories.

Still, to accept something like that as _truth_. To accept that he was something like that...

"...God..." He laughed without any humor behind it as he pressed his hands over his face. This whole thing was madness. Pure fucking madness... yet it _almost_ made sense. It really did, on some level, and, when he was with Lucia, it seemed to be the most sensical thing he ever heard.

"Sugar.." Sam muttered as he rooted in the pockets of his warm coat. He knew that he had some left over from his last visit to the store; maybe a nice injection of sugar'd put things back in perspective.

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"...and _that_ was when I had to go over and pry Tana away from the guy..." Para sighed as she adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. It was a common tale, about her younger sister getting into trouble at the clubs, but, for the life of her, she could _never_ come up with a solution. It troubled her, really; though she acted older, Gitana really was still only a kid and there was so much trouble out there...

"You know, you both have a lot in common..." Dante grumbled as he stuck his hands deeper in his pockets. Yes, even though a full week had passed since his confrontation with the old pervert, he was still bitter about it and he was still convinced that the Tiger Claw should never see hide nor hair of any of his family, again.

"Naaah." His twin disagreed quickly as she offered him a rather wide grin. "After all, _I_ have an insanely overprotective-- not to mention moody-- twin watching over me every second of every day. Besides, I can watch out for myself..."

"Yea, I'm sure that Gitana'd say the same..." Dante grumbled as he shook his head slowly. "You both think that you're entirely indesctructable..."

"Of course we do!" Para giggled as she winked lightly at her brother. "We _are_ indescrutable! All of us Delvidrio children are! Nothing can slow us down, let alone stop us!"

"_Christ_, Para..." He sighed as he closed his eyes warily. Sure, it was probably a joke, but she should know better than that. Really, she should.

"Tch. C'mon, Dannie..." Para goaded as she smacked her twin lightly on the shoulder. "Cheer up, give us a smile, and I'll take you out for a milkshake, 'kay?"

"Can't." Opening his eyes, Dante shook his head. "I have to change then go to work... as soon as I'm sure that you're safe at home..."

"Tch. You _do_ realize that nothing'll happen. No one'll bother me." Para huffed as she rolled her eyes at her twin. Of course, it was obvious whom Dante was trying to keep from bothering her, but, for her part, Para really wouldn't mind it all that much. To be rather honest, she'd been secretly hoping that she'd get to see the guy again.

"Right." He snorted as he pressed the headphones of his walkman into his ears, thus signaling that he didn't want to discuss this any further. After all, if he was only going to be scorned for trying to protect his sister, the rest of his family... well... actually, he was probably used to it, by now.

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"You're being _such_ an asshole about this."

Darran stopped mid-sulk and turned just in time to see a prize example of Kein's bitchiest eyeroll, administered as he leaned on the doorframe connecting their apartments. "What the hell are you doing here? And if you needed to come back, why didn't you give me a call so I could pick you up?"

Kein held up a CD marked 'Projected Nirv. Sales w/ com' as answer. "Forgot this, didn't want your mopey face over my shoulder the whole way back." He hadn't _forgotten_ it, exactly... their damn company liason had forgotten to tell him he would need it today for the meeting with Sanyat Inc. But then, now that he'd been standing there a few minutes just watching Dar mope around and not even realize his presence, Kein was also getting pretty worried. Taking out Staith four days before had hit Darran a little harder than usual, and Kein knew it was about time to snap him out of it. With a girl, naturally, and for his line of attack he'd picked one girl in particular. "You know, I'm getting damn sick of this. Just _call_ the freaking clubber chick."

"Look," Darran broke in, annoyed, "I explained all this to you. I _pulled a fucking gun_ on her brother! The brother who, just coincidentally, knows _exactly_ who I am and has obviously told Para. I'm sure she'd rather go on a date with a convicted psychopath than with me-- at least the crazies don't try to act all normal and pretend like they're harmless..."

"What the fuck are you saying?" Kein spluttered, taken aback by this new line of self-pity, "are you actually worried you'll lose control and attack her?" Because, really, one thing he'd always admired about Darran was how much control he had, under normal circumstances at least. If he was feeding himself _that_ line of bullshit, things were worse than Kein had thought.

"Of course not!" snapped Dar, stung by the fact that maybe he _had_ been thinking that, a little. "But _she_ sure as hell does! I'll be lucky if she hangs up on me without screaming first!"

Kein slumped against the doorframe, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. Damn it, what the hell was going through his best friend's head, anyway? Sometimes Dar took it hard after a kill, true, but this whole wallowing shit was totally unexpected. "Look, this is absolute bullshit. If you call her, she freaks, you don't go out with her-- FINE, I don't see that you've got much to lose, you follow?" Lifting his head, he glared at the other. "And anyway, like hell I hacked the phone company's server just for you to do _nothing_ with her number."

It was probably Kein's actions, more than his words, that got to Dar-- that all-too-familiar warning sign of an oncoming migraine. Fuck, he hadn't meant to stress Kein out... "Alright, alright. Fine." He spun away to grab his phone, digging out a piece of paper that had been his constant companion for the past week. "Look, Kein, I'm dialing..." he added sarcastically, then fell silent with a nervous swallow as Parajo's cell phone began to ring.

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"...c'mon! You have time to stop for a quick burger!" Para narrowed her eyes at her brother as they paused before a random diner on their walk home. Hands on hips and eyes narrowed, she was probably trying to go for intimidating, even if it likely wouldn't come across from her rather small frame. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Don't start, Para..." Dante sighed as he rolled his eyes a bit. Though he still had his headphones in, it wasn't like that alone was enough to drown out his sister's voice; hell, she could likely be heard over a hurricane.

"No, really. I mean--" Still, whatever she meant was lost as the pocket of her skirt started to play a version of White Christmas. Blinking at this, she quickly fished out her cell and, trying to avoid her twin's suddenly interested glance, she realized, with a quick look, that she didn't recognize the number. Shrugging this aside, she quickly put the phone to her ear as she chirped. "Hello? Parajo Delvidrio speaking!"

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Just as she was pushing the front door open, it suddenly occured to Sophia that she couldn't remember packing away her science notebook. Surely it was in there... but now the thought was like an itch, and she just had to check. Stepping off to one side and rummaging through her bookbag, she came up entirely blank. Well, it was an annoyance, but at least she'd caught it before having to walk too far.

There was something about an empty, echoing hallway that made one want to walk softly. It was the same feeling she sometimes got as she stepped out into the courtroom and took her place on the bench. Perhaps, Sophia mused, it was a guilt of some sort-- acknowledging that she really didn't have any business being here, after school hours, and so she tried to leave as little mark as possible, right down to echoing footsteps. And that, too, could be extended to the courtroom-- what business did a ten-year-old girl have, being a judge? *This world is unnatural,* Sophia thought to herself grimly, *and what it creates can only be expected to be so, as well. But at least some of us try to right it all again.*

Then, as she re-entered the classroom, the thought fled her and her eyes opened wide at what she saw. Her teacher sat back in his chair, paralyzed at the broken, gruesome doll on his desk. There was crumpled wrapping paper, too-- could it possibly be a cruel joke? Sophia's lips twitched a little in revulsion as she saw what she hoped was red paint splattered all over the once-pretty doll. But even so, her concern was less focused on the sick prank than on the affect it was working on her teacher. "Mr. Alraune?"

*An unnatural, badly flawed world, indeed.*

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Gulp. "Um..." Oh, now see, that was smooth there, Isanyeti. "Hey, Para. Just calling to see what's up... it's, um, Darran." At this point, he stopped, physically winced, and braced himself for the explosion. *I swear, God, I've never asked anything of you before and I doubt I will again, but just this once...*

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At first, it was as if Nevan hadn't even heard Sophia's words, let alone realized that there was another person in the room. The whole of his attention was set on the gruesome doll and, eyes wide, he could only stare. Still, gradually, it came to him that someone had addressed him and, after a few rapid blinks, he slowly turned his head. Relief flooded his expression, though, when he noted that there was no gruesome, intimidating figure-- the one, in his imagination, who had taken everything from him-- to see.

"Oh, Sophia..." He murmured quietly as he carefully molded his face into his more usual expressions. Smiling softly, he studiously avoided glancing to anything but the child before him. "Did you forget something? Or is there anything which I can do for you?"

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"Oh, hey!" Para couldn't help but smile as she recognized the voice on the other end of the phone, but she quickly realized that this would _not_ be the call to take in front of her brother. Still, she really, really, _really_ didn't want to hang up on the guy, either.

Ugh! Tragic conundrums!

...and, from his expression, Dante was catching on. Narrowing her eyes at her twin, she quickly turned her back on him. Lowering her voice to a pitch which she _hoped_ would be drowned out by whatever music Dante was listening to, she murmured into the phone.

"Long time, no talk! Guess you forgot about me, huh?" She managed to tease him lightly as she rather fervently hoped it didn't come off as too ditzy. Then again, considering circumstances, what _would be_ the proper etiquette to one who just got into a fight with your brother? She never saw _that_ one addressed anywhere.

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"...'Soulless' is definitely their best song! I cry everytime I listen to it," Arvel was saying.

Estelle shook her head, "No, no. 'I can see God From My Bedroom Window' is their best. It's got such a catchy tune!"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. His two friends had yet to convert him to Wingless.

"I can see God from my bedroom window, shining at the end of my street, ooooooooooh,ooooooh, oooh-oh-oh---Lukas! Heeeeeeeeeeeeey!" Estelle broke off singing as she noticed one of the members of her favorite band.

Arvel went wide eyed and looked at the floor. After being converted to the glories of Wingless his interest had switched from Kisoku to the other redhead. "H-h-hi!" he stammered.

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"My notebook," Sophia replied as she walked over to her desk and retrieved it. Then she hesitated, eyes cast down at the book in her hands as she tried to think about what was happening. She hadn't missed Nevan's initial expression of horror, or the relief when he'd seen her... or how quickly he'd tried to cover it up. It was that last part that she didn't like at all. *What on earth could a man like Mr. Alraune be hiding?* As she put her notebook in her bag, Sophia tried to decide what to do about it.

"Mr. Alraune," she asked quietly as she walked to his desk, "how did you get... this?"

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"No! Uh... no way. Heh. Just... you know... I was thinking that since..." Ohwaitafuckingsecond. Pleasant conversation... equals not screaming. Not screaming equals ignorance of 'real job'... right?

Was it even slightly possible Dante hadn't told her?

So HOLY SHIT SHE STILL WANTED TO TALK TO HIM. Kein had to muffle a laugh at the sudden elation on Darran's face, but otherwise kept himself quiet, since it was completely obvious the other had forgotten about him entirely. And Dar, in the meanwhile, backtracked for his dear life.

"...Since, I mean, your brother and I didn't hit it off, exactly... I kind of thought maybe you'd rather not hear from me." He laughed a little nervously, then blinked as the thought crossed his mind: why the hell hadn't Dante mentioned anything? Geeze, maybe he really _did_ owe the guy an apology, or thank you... _gah_.

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"Ah, I see." Nevan nodded slightly as Sophia indicated what she'd forgotten. Still, in truth, he was just glad to have an excuse to have another in the room, at the moment, and some rather childish part of himself wanted to strike up conversation just so she wouldn't leave, just so he wouldn't have to think about the gift lying on his desk.

Swiping his sweaty palms on his khakis, he studiously avoided glancing at the thing as well as the thoughts which were brought by it, but it was so difficult. It was a sign, surely, but why and from whom? As far as he knew, those events weren't exactly common knowledge and to think that someone had stolen the doll from his apartment...

"Ah...?" Fighting down the full wince brought by that thought, he had to pause for a long moment to even really understand what Sophia had just asked him. Once it had come together, though, he tried to bring a benign grin to his confused expression.

"I'm... not entirely sure, Sophia." He responded steadily as he met the girl's glance. "It's... probably just a prank of some sort. You know how excitable the students get at the end of the year..."

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"Oh yeeeaaa. About that..." Para giggled a bit nervously as the fight with her brother was brought up. Of course, that _would_ be a valid reason to never talk to the guy again for a normal person, but she was so used to her brother going psycho on any guy who so much as looked at her that it was accepted as a matter of course. Beyond that, no matter what her brother said, the whole thing was fairly innocent; it was just a bit of flirting, after all, and the confrontation had been spurred on as much by Dante as it had by Darran.

Still, she was pulled from these thoughts as she noted that her twin was watching her with increased suspicion and, thankfully, she was able to smack his hand away as Dante made a grab for the phone. Not that this ended the confrontation.

"Who is it, Para?" Dante demanded as he actually managed to grab the phone. Tugging, he tried to wrest it from his sister's grasp, even as she tried to keep a deathgrip on it.

"None. of. your. _Business_!" Para growled as she tugged at the phone for her life. Of course, as the thought struck her of how this must sound on the other end of the phone, she had to giggle. Poor Dar. Poor Dar's ears.

"Just tell me and I'll leave in you peace." He tried to reason as he continued the tug-of-war with the phone. Naturally, the fact that she wouldn't tell him only made him all the more suspicous, not that the flirty giggling didn't do as much.

"It's _Carm_, alright?" She gritted as, with a final sharp tug, she managed to free the phone. A lie. Not a very good one, either. Still, if she could just manage this without scaring Darran away, entirely... "She just wanted to get together with me so we could work on that stuff for that layout I'm doing. Jeeze, so suspicious..."

Dante rolled his eyes at this, but, deciding to let it go for the moment, he merely leaned against a convenient light pole. Yes, he'd let that slide, but he'd also stand there and wait to see if his sister's words proved to be true.

"Sorry about that!" Para giggled quietly into the phone, after returning her brother's eyeroll. Wondering if Dar was still with her, she decided to plow on as carefully as she could.

"Still, you know, maybe we should get together to talk about it?" She offered tentatively as she shot a sidelong glance to her brother. No, he didn't seem too upset by that. God help her if he decided he wanted to tag along, though. "Y'know, it'd be easier to talk face to face... and I have to get all my material and all...."

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When classes had finally let out for the day, Lukas left the building, trying desperately to think of somewhere to go other than back home. During the week that had passed since the exceedingly odd day of the tree-lighting ceremony, things had just gotten progressively worse. Hostilities between his parents had escalated from the loud, angry shouting matches to silent, sullen staring contests, leaving the atmosphere in the house so tense, the Cajun youth sometimes felt as if his head were about to explode from the tension in the air.

And to make matters worse, he'd barely seen Sammy all week-- every time he turned around, his friend always seemed to be with that Lucia chick, and he couldn't get close... certainly couldn't talk freely. No... he still didn't trust her... and no... he still didn't have a good reason for feeling the way he did about her... and no again, he didn't give a damn. Three in a row.

The sound of his own name being called from across the grounds drew his attention, breaking into his brooding, and he glanced over, recognizing three of the kids he'd met on the very bizarre day he'd just been thinking about. Normally, he didn't mess with groupies-- he left all that to Sammy and Kiso-- but these kids were so much younger, and weren't really groupies in *that* sense, anyway... or, perhaps, he was just in a mood to be distracted from his own dark thoughts. At any rate, he found himself walking over to where the three were gathered, offering the three-- one of which looked decidedly less than thrilled, he noted with some amusement-- a broad, friendly smile, "Hey there, mes amis...comment ca va?"

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"No habla espanol," Arvel answered.

Jeremy poked his friend in the ribs, "he's speaking _French_, you moron."

"Oh. No habla... French?" he offered. "Talk?"

"He means we have no idea what you just said," Estelle translated Arvel's jumbled attempts at communication, "but we'd love to talk with you. If you have time and want to hang out with us lowly underclassmen." She giggled slightly. True, she favored Sam, but a cute, popular man is a cute, popular man and the giggling came naturally.

Arvel merely turned the color of his hair and nodded agreement with Estelle.

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Lukas chuckled at Arvel's mangled French/Spanish, and reaching out, ruffled his fellow carrot top's hair. Cute kid. "Tu ne parles-pas Francais," he supplied teasingly, "an' all I said was, 'What's up guys... and girl'" he added, dropping a slow wink at Estelle. Taking a seat near the trio, he grinned at his companions, "Well... you just happened to catch me durin' a break in my busy schedule," he drawled, playing the popular, egotistical rock star role to the hilt-- although clearly for laughs rather than in any serious way-- "An'... I _suppose_ my rep can stand bein' seen with you three... so... what's on your minds, petites?"

The Cajun knew he was probably laying it on a bit thick, but for some reason, hanging around with these three younger kids, just shootin' the shit, made him feel a lot better than he had in... well, ages... made him feel almost... normal again.

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"Yeah... Tuna parli-something're other," Arvel repeated.

"Well," Estelle spoke up, "we were trying to decide which of your songs is the best! I totally think it's "I Can See God From My Bedroom Window," but Arvel thinks it's "Soulless." Which one do you think is the best?"

"I vote for silence," Jeremy put in, ducking as Estelle tried to smack him. "What!? I'm not their fan, okay! I'm all for that cute blonde chick that does those sexy music videos..."

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