Much like human creativity, magic has many different ways in which it can be expressed. I doubt this is coincidence. Just as a writer expresses it through words, a painter expresses through image, and so forth.

Hm, it seems like January wants to simply move on from her odd vision. But Blood Raven clearly sensed something, and I have a feeling this isn't coincidental either. Either January still has some baggage from the event (which wouldn't be surprising), or there's still some danger out there lurking in the magic. If it's the latter, the sooner she gets on it, the better. But it will be painful to deal with.

Renee: Everyone was stoned out of their gourds on meth in World War 2. It was not just the Nazis. The Western Allies gave it to their troops as well, especially pilots. Bombing raids could take 12 - 14 hours, a little meth keeps the crew awake the entire time, and gave them a sense of invulnerability that I am sure came in handy once people started shooting at them.

Xochitl's rune magic is what sets her apart from all the other mages in the story. I worked hard to try to give all these magicians their own shtick. A way that their personality shapes how they use magic. It took me a while to figure out what that was going to be for Xochitl. At first I was just going to use drawing and art as her centering skill. But then I realized (just as the characters in the story did) that she was a rune mage. It gave me an opportunity to showcase one more means of doing magic in the Crowverse, as well as gave Xochitl something that makes her unique.

Is your new Illusionist Now-Yha-See'm? Or Dahvide Cahpafield?


Acadian: I am not sure if scrolls will ever become part of January's arsenal. But they might. In any case, it was just what popped into my head as I was writing it, and providing examples of runes in magic.

Blood Raven has a lot of experience at dealing with her lack of pop culture and current fashion awareness. So she is usually pretty quick on her feet in circumstances such as Kaelin's quip about records. She also has spent a lot of time around students. So she is not phased by the unexpected.

As every, thanks for finding those nits for me, so I could fix them.


WellTemperedClavier: January just has PTSD thanks to nearly being sacrificed by the Hierophant. Certain situations will trigger it going forward. Unfortunately the use of runes is among them. Which is going to be hard for her, given who her apprentice is. Other things will trigger it as well, as we will see later in this Book. I don't know how her PTSD will be eventually resolved. She is still in the early stages of denying it exists. That will not be possible forever though.










The Gundestrup Cauldron


Book 11.6 - Raven Sisters

"We have one final piece of business to discuss however," Blood Raven turned to face the others gathered around. "Faces and names have been shared, perhaps wisely, perhaps recklessly."

She cast a sideways glance at Riven before moving on.

"Yeah, I know, oaths must now be taken," the San Franciscan heroine nodded. "I realize that. Bring on the blood bowl."

"The blood bowl?" Kaelin raised an eyebrow in Vulcan incredulity. "What are the Lions up to now?"

"It is not about football, but covenants," Silverlight nodded. "It is the old way of sealing a pact."

"Wait, what pact are we making here?" Xochitl looked about with wide eyes. "Is this a cult? Are you people a cult?"

"No," Calypso said. "We are superheroes. Many of us have families and loved ones, people who will die - and die badly - if our names and faces are made public."

"Remember what happened to Hailstorm," January said grimly. "After he was doxxed by a reporter, his enemies did not come after him. They kidnapped, tortured, and murdered his family, friends, and even coworkers. He died in an asylum, and the reporter killed himself once he saw what he had done."

"You seem like a pretty cool kid Xochitl," Riven said. "But the fact is I don't know shit about you. That's why the others were all masked up to meet you, and why they gave me the hairy eyeball when I wasn't. For all we know, you could be a Nazi. Or ten or twenty years from now, you might become one. Anyone here might."

"This life breeds paranoia," Silverlight explained. "It is not simply being crazy. It is a real necessity when there are people who actually want to murder us and our loved ones."

"But I'm not even a superhero!" Xochitl exclaimed. "I might never be one!"

"Yet we are." Ôkami stated plainly. "You could kill a hundred people with just a tweet. Just such a tweet from one of us could kill you and your entire family, simply because of your relationship to the rest of us."

"We are not going to force you to do this," Blood Raven declared firmly. "I lay no compulsion upon any to do so. An oath is a statement of intent. Magic is the act of making one's intent reality. Every time we use magic, we are making an oath, whether to aid or harm, defend or destroy. Your oaths are yours to make, and yours alone."

Blood Raven raised her hands above her head in a gesture of supplication. January felt power flow through her and into the sanctum. The room answered. A small stone plinth rose up from the floor under their feet with a loud grinding of rock. In just moments it grew to the height of Blood Raven's waist, then stopped. Its shaft was circular and fluted with regular grooves, like a Greek or Roman column. This widened out to a flat, square-shaped capital that was held up by elegantly curled Ionic scrollwork.

Atop this sat a silver cauldron or bowl roughly a foot and half in diameter, and half that in height. Both its inner and outer surfaces were covered in raised designs. January could see that it was not cast from a single mold. Rather it was made of numerous interlocking plates. Each of these were decorated with a dizzying array of figures hammered into the metal.

She recognized the famous image of Cernunnos. The Celtic god of the Green held a torc in one hand and a horned serpent in another. Another plate was dominated by a torc-wearing woman, flanked by spoked wheels, and what appeared to be both elephants and griffons. Still other plates depicted bulls, a boar helmeted warrior, and more warriors blowing long, serpentine trumpets that stretched up high above their heads, and other scenes. It was all so busy with artwork that there was too much to take it all in at once.

Samhain manifested in Blood Raven's hand. As usual, January felt the sword, as well as saw it. Its imprint upon astral space was by now something she was long accustomed to. It was like after you lived with someone long enough, you could tell it was them in another room simply by the sound of their footsteps. In the case of Samhain, it was a scent of blood and roses, mixed with the raven-whisper of the Morrigan, goddess of death and magic.

Blood Raven took the leaf-shaped blade and held the Damascus steel up so all could get a good look at it. The dark steel of the double-edged blade was filled with waves of lighter silver-white. January had read that was a side-effect of the forging process, which gave the metal an almost liquid appearance.

The crossbar was etched with the likeness of wings, and in the center was a raised section cast in the form of a raven's head, seen from top down. It appeared as if it was looking down the blade, and its beak led directly into the single fuller of the blade. Behind this the grip was wrapped in red-brown leather, which finally gave way to a V-shaped bronze pommel, again etched into the shape of a raven's angular tail feathers.

"I make my oath to all those assembled here," Blood Raven said clearly. "Phantom Queen, the Raven goddess who rules over magic and death, most glorious, and most great. To you All-Father, who sees all things and hears all things. To you rivers and seas, to you earth below and sky above, and to you fire and light. I call upon you all to bear witness."

"The covenant we make this day binds us in sacred fellowship. To protect and defend we swear, in thought, and word, and deed. Secrets of lives we keep in confidence, never to reveal to those outside this circle. To this we swear."

With that Blood Raven lowered her sword, and held her index finger up to the tip. She pressed the meteoric steel into her flesh, and a single drop of blood issued forth. The wound-dew dripped down into the cauldron, and made a loud noise as it struck the liquid that now pooled within. It was like a peal of thunder, that reverberated through the entire space and all gathered within. Where the other liquid in the cauldron had come from January could not guess. It was just there, dark as wine, and now filled the vessel to the brim.

A soft, but definite red glow rose up from the blood-infused liquid. It bathed the sanctum in roseate light. Blood Raven lowered her hands to her sides, then turned to the others.

"Who will join me in this covenant?"

January did not hesitate. She stepped up and reached for Samhain, meaning to follow Blood Raven's example. But the elder heroine shook her head, and the sword vanished a moment later. Instead she took one of January's hands in her own, and thrust both down into the cauldron before them.

One by one, the others congregated around the cauldron to form a circle. Ryo took January's free hand, and together they lowered their linked hands into the bowl as well. Then came the next of their sisters, and the next. Each time they did so, that crimson glow grew brighter and brighter, and filled the sanctum with ever greater phosphorescence.

Finally Xochitl stepped up, her face still uncertain.

"You need not take part in this childe," Blood Raven intoned. "I will train you no matter the case, and your sisters shall protect you regardless. This is our oath to you."

"And this is mine." Xochitl took Riven's free hand in her left, and Blood Raven's in her right. She took a deep breath, and they plunged their combined hands into the cauldron. That completed the circle. With it the red phosphorescence that suffused the room transformed into a great pillar of light that shot to the ceiling, which now appeared to be miles overhead.

January heard thunder boom overhead, and lightning crack. The roar of the surf filled her ears, as did the rush of flames. The earth shook and murmured under her feet, but she remained standing, thanks to the others who held her up. They all supported one another through this assault of the elements, until finally it, and the light abated.

January looked down to see that the liquid within the cauldron had vanished. Not a single drop remained upon its surface. She stared down at her hands. Not even a stain remained behind to show what had happened. But she suspected that the liquid - if it had even existed beyond a magical metaphor - was now a part of her, and all the others. It was their oath, and now a part of all of their beings.

"So," Ôkami began nonchalantly, "do we now get a pair of pants that we trade from one to the other each week, that magically fits us all?"

"How about a pair of ravens?" January found herself smiling.

"Is it always this... dramatic?" Xochitl breathed.

"In the old days, we would have filled the bowl with wine, washed our hands with water, and then slit the throats of two lambs, or bulls, or some other animals." Silverlight explained. "There was a lot more as well of course. Like pouring out the wine on the ground, and swearing that an oath breaker's brains would be thusly poured out as well. The Illiad goes into great detail."

"Ewww," Xochitl put words to January's own feelings on the subject.

"Yes, to our modern sensibilities it is rather much," Silverlight said. "But we have to remember, those people were not monsters. They weren't a bunch of brutish orcs. They simply lived in a different world. When we want a chicken sandwich, we go to the grocery store and buy some frozen patties or fillets in a nice, neat plastic bag. When they wanted chicken, they had to go out back and cut its head off with a hatchet. That was just an ordinary part of life for everyone, and it was that way for most of human history. It is hard for us to grasp, because today we are all so far removed from where our food originates and how it is prepared for us. Really, we are the outliers, not them."

"You can take the culture out of the anthropologist, but you cannot take the anthropologist out of the culture," Riven murmured.

"To answer your question, my young apprentice, it is always that dramatic." Blood Raven now spoke. "Magic is the ability to create change. Change is always dramatic, and often messy. Embrace it."

A wise precaution to protect each other’s identity and a fascinating ceremony to seal the deal. Xochitl’s apprehension of what she was getting into was very understandable. Fortunately, Blood Raven again, rose to the occasion to assuage her concerns.

And when it was done, we have humor from Ôkami. Uncharacteristic from him but welcome in that it shows he is getting more comfortable in this arcane group.

Let me get my hatchet so I can go make a chicken sandwich.

Yeah that's right. Methheads do think they're invulnerable. I've known a few over the years. So yeah, that does fill in an extra dimension from the soldiers' point of view.

New Illusionist is Fay Daway. Here is her gorgeous wood elf self. She is partially inspired by Quinn.

Yes, you have worked hard, it certainly is necessary. A lot going on in this scene, even though it's not action-packed. Whoa... Okay. I was going to make a statement at how lighthearted this gathering is. Just like some of the shows on the CW, they have lighthearted moments, too. But now it's got a serious element.

Because yeah, of course all these supers have friends and family. And they aren't just impervious. This is the Age of Information; anyone who's dedicated can dig in and find stuff which is usually private. It's why I got so freaked a couple weeks ago when the teen found out that Stormcrow = January Ward. Not that Xochitl herself is going to do anything to mess up Jan's life, but you know... she's a neophyte. As Riven points out, this is serious business! - How willful is the teen? She'd better not blab to her besties about any of this (which I'd imagine is pretty darn tempting)!

Whoa, this is wicked. This ceremony. Really well-described.



Yup. As a vegetarian myself, been saying this for years. "Why are you vegetarian, Renee?" The answer is similar to what Silverlight just said, which freaks people out, so I usually don't give an immediate answer. Because I feel like if you're going to eat an animal, you should be able to go through the brutality of killing it. We're so far removed from the fact that lives are being taken all the time, just not human ones.

Nicely said, Silver. Anyway, Quite a scene this was.

What a dramatic event. For all the fighting that was going on recently, this still felt truly momentous. They're committing themselves. It's the sort of thing that can greatly enrich a life, but is also very dangerous. You can't take back what you say here. All you can do is hope that it works out.

Like any relationships, I suppose.

A lot of courage here, especially on Xochitl's part.



I like Silverlight's words here. The past was a very different place, even if it's as little as 10-20 years ago. Humans don't have long memories, so it's easy to forget how quickly norms can change based on things like technology and economy. It also emphasizes how important it is to actively defend the norms that protect you.

FWIW, assuming we avoid civilizational collapse and continue developing on more inclusive lines (a big assumption), it would not surprise me if vegetarianism someday becomes the norm. Me going over to the supermarket to get some chicken meat could well seem an example of the cruelest barbarism in time. Not that that stops me, but it's worth considering.

Acadian: As I was writing that, it occurred to me that from an outsider's point of view, that ritual could very easily look like a cult. We know it isn't. But Xochitl would not.

I am not sure why I put the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants reference in Ôkami's mouth. It just felt right. I think for the reason you cited. It shows he is becoming more comfortable in this group of (mostly) strangers, who are all united by their relationship with Blood Raven.

When I was a youngin' my grandmother would tell my brother and I stories of how when she was our age, her mother used to literally take an axe and go chop off the head of a chicken or other animal in the yard. They were rural peasants in Poland, and that was the only way they ate meat. So I was definitely channeling a lot of that.


Renee: I am old enough to remember who Faye Dunaway was. She was in Three Days of the Condor.

I wanted some kind of magical means of sealing a pact to make this whole meeting secret identity safe for everyone involved. I did a lot of research into oath-taking ceremonies in Ancient Greece, and especially from the Iliad. From there I updated it to fit into the Crowverse, as something Blood Raven would perform. That is where the Celtic element of the Gundestrup Cauldron comes from, and some of the entities she invokes.


WellTemperedClavier: It is a momentous occasion. I don't know what will happen long term (who knows Xochitl might indeed become the next Anakin Skywalker). But in the short term ideas I have in mind, this covenant will lead to a lot more cooperation between the various daughters in their endeavors - from mutual training sessions, to joining one another on adventures.

I hear you about people having short memories, and how we easily we fall into the thinking that things have always been the way they are now. When you read history about social institutions it can be surprising how many things we take for granted today were really recent inventions. Like funeral homes, or police departments. Sure there were similar things in the past, like Crassus' "fire department", but when you dig in, boy was that a lot different from a modern fire department! Just comparing life in the world before the Industrial Revolution to after it is astounding, given how much it changed the day to day lives of people.

I remember talking with a coworker about how gross maggot cheese is. Then I reflected that in a hundred years, people will probably say the same thing about us eating sugar. What barbarians!







Book 11.7 - Raven Sisters

"Since we speak of change, I come to one of the reasons I bade you all to gather this day." Blood Raven now turned her eyes to take in all those assembled before her. "I have ruminated upon this for some time now. It is time for me to move on."

"Move on?" January blinked. The words made no sense to her.

"For fifty years I have been this city's guardian," Blood Raven turned to face January. "I have overstayed my time here, in more ways than one."

"But... but... but..." January stammered. "We need you!"

"Nay," the other woman shook her head. "You have proven otherwise. You and your friends - your Allies - are the future of Detroit."

"The same is true for all of you," Blood Raven turned back to face her apprentices. "You are the future. Of all my legacies, you are that of which I am most proud."

January was not the only one who was stunned by the revelation. All of the others stood by in varying degrees of bewildered silence. January's world shook. It felt like the ground had vanished beneath her feet, or worse, like the wind was gone beneath her wings. She had no foundation, no center. Suddenly nothing in the world made sense.

"Where will you go?" Silverlight was the first to regain composure enough to ask the question, and continue on. "What will you do?"

"I think it is time I returned home," Blood Raven said. She briefly turned to January, then back to the others. "No, not here in the Witch House, my home, where I was born, in Boston."

"Don't tell me you are going to take up knitting once you get there?" Riven said facetiously.

"I think perhaps I might return to teaching," Blood Raven considered. "It has been long since I have partaken of that occupation. Perhaps I shall start a school."

"A school for 'gifted' youngsters?" Calypso teased.

"I shall not be shaving my head and fitting myself for a wheelchair, if that is what you mean to imply," Blood Raven smiled. "I have considered what you suggest however. But whether meta or magician, the 'gifted' require little actual teaching. They simply need someone to show them that they can do whatever they imagine, and practice at making that reality. I fear a school might be superfluous."

"Well, you could give them a safe place to do those things," Riven said, quite seriously this time. "Maybe with ten foot thick steel walls, so they won't blow up the neighborhood by accident. And who knows, along the way they might read Emily Bronte, and learn how to count on more than just their fingers and toes."

"That is a consideration, among others," Blood Raven's face took on a serious cast, and for a moment her gaze turned down to the floor.

"And this is where the other shoe drops," Calypso murmured.

"Yes, the other shoe," Blood Raven said. "When I was but a child, I had no idea what my father truly was. Not even after he died could I have guessed at the truth. But now I believe that he had been at work that entire time. Not in our original house in the North End, but under it. There are old rumors... of tunnels and passages that connected certain houses to one another, and to certain secluded places upon the shore where one might come and go unseen. Smuggler's ways some called them. Witches' ways said others."

"So you think something may be down there, after all these years?" Riven said grimly. She loudly planted a fist into one open palm. "Well let's go then, and connect it to Jesus' Wi-Fi."

"Nay, delay your rotation young woman!" Blood Raven held up a hand and laughed at her oldest student's enthusiasm.

"That is slow your roll," Ôkami's voice floated from a shadow near the fringes of the sanctum.

"Yes, thank you," Blood Raven continued on. "Slow your roll Riven. I know not if there is anything there at all. This will take much time and effort. In fact, I know not if that house even stands yet. I suspect not, for it would be older than even I! There will be surveys to perform to discern its old location, then land deeds and titles to procure, and finally earth to move and shape."

"And contents to correlate," January finally recovered her voice after getting over the shock of learning that he mentor was about to walk out of her life. What was she going to do without her? "It sounds like you have a true Lovecraftian adventure ahead of you: ninety percent studying in the library, ten percent fainting or fleeing to escape impending doom!"

"But, what about me in all this?" Xochitl asked. Again, the teenager looked small and uncertain among the gathered heroes and mages.

"I leave you in the best hands imaginable," Blood Raven clasped one hand upon her shoulder, and the other on January's. "Your sisters will all be here for you. You can ask for no better teachers. They have already proven so this day."

"Or should you so desire, I shall make return journeys to teach you. I did exactly the same with Riven, Calypso, and Silverlight. I can do so again, once I forge a new waypoint within Boston." Blood Raven continued. "I shall always be here when you need me.

* * *

*blinks*

The warnings were there, but it was still a surprise to learn that Blood Raven is going to semiretire to go on her own personal quest. Nice that she will still be on standby. I’m looking forward to seeing how Jan adapts and evolves. I’m also curious about Cray – will he move on with Blood Raven, leaving Gadget to fill his shoes, or will he stay with the alliance of mages?


Nit: ‘January finally recovered her voice after getting over the shock of learning that he {her} mentor was about to walk out of her life.’

Yeah... move on? What does that mean? Hmm, where is home? I can't remember. IT's been a long time. Trying to remember where because... New England? YES... Boston. 🚩 Well that's not too far away. Any sort of crisis, Branwyn can still be available if it's a really big crisis.

This new direction she's going sounds quite compelling, however. Because what if she's right (and we all know she is) about these underground tunnels?




And one brother! Then again, Ryo's not really such an engaging character. He's probably not keen on taking up mentorship over a teenage neophyte.

Anyway, this seems like a plot device. Doesn't mean she's gone for good. Who shall take up the void in the land of the Lions while she's partaking this sojourn?

Acadian brings up Cray, so he's ninja'd my edit, here. Cray will stay busy, I assume. He's still a hacker, and he's got other things going on. But also, what about that gigantic tower she calls a home? All filled with musem-quality artwork and war memorabilia? And crazy-modern computers and stuff.

Xochitl taking an Anakin route would be a pretty grim possibility!

Wow, was not expecting Blood Raven to leave.

Still, she's right in that Detroit's heroes are able to stand on their own against pretty formidable odds. They've learned most of what they can from her, and she could do more good elsewhere. The house in Boston sounds ominous, and the tunnels make me think there's definitely something lurking down there. Would probably be for the best if someone keeps an eye on them.

Acadian: As you and others have noted, I have been giving hints of Blood Raven's plans to move on since the end of the Battle of Belle Isle. Things like how she reminded January that she can count on Cray in all things, or how she should seek alchemical training from Kaelin. Even this whole long scene of all the Raven Sisters together was in pursuit of her goal of leaving. She has gotten her affairs in order, and left both Detroit and the wider world ready to go on without her.

It is still a hard thing to swallow, especially for January.

As for Cray, we shall see in today's post.


Renee: Blood Raven is a Masshole! Wicked Awesome!

Btw, I have been doing some preliminary work on a Baltimore based superhero. They will be an arcane archer, and either ride a ghostly horse, or a souped up cyber motorcycle. Maybe Mongol-themed.

And one brother. But you are correct, in that Ryo is not the most outgoing and extroverted member of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Raven. But he will be around for some of Xochitl's training, along with others of their coven.

January will take up the void that Blood Raven leaves behind. And the other members of the Great Lakes Alliance. This book is all about that.

This is something I have had in mind since I first introduced Blood Raven. Eventually January needs to grow beyond her, and stand or fall on her own. It is the reason why Obi-Wan dies in the first Star Wars movie, and later on Yoda as well. It isn't Luke's story with them around. It would have been their story, with Luke as just a helper. So narratively speaking, they both had to go.


WellTemperedClavier: My original concept for Season One was based on Lovecraft's story The Case of Charles Dexter Ward. That is why her family name is Ward. I was originally going to make her a descendant of Charles Ward, and the Big Bad would have been Joseph Curwen. But as I developed the story, it went off in different directions. That worked out much better, as it allowed me to do more with Nátthrafn, making him a Viking Lich and all. I did still keep the idea that he can return by someone of his bloodline calling him back. I liked that sense of Atavistic Horror, that a shadow could come out of one's past and engulf them.

One of the other holdovers from the Lovecraft story is Curwen's hidden laboratory under his farm, where the most liveliest awfulness still writhes in the darkness. I do not know how much of that I will use going forward. But I do like the idea of Blood Raven searching the depths of Boston's darkest underbelly in search of her father's unholy legacies. Come to think of it, Pickman's Model was also based on the idea of there being hidden tunnels and ways beneath the North End, and unwholesome denizens thereof.







The Raven's Nest (Detroit Radiator Building)

Cray (RL James Remar)

Cray's Daughter (RL Aria Goodson)




Book 11.8 - Raven Sisters

July 10th, evening

"So, you were just going to slink away without a word then?"

January stood with her hands on her hips. She stared across the Raven's Nest. The gold marble floor was divided up into four wings, separated by the giant block of black marble that took up the center of the space. She could not see Blood Raven through the ebony marble of course. But there was no mistaking the other woman in the astral.

To January's right was Cray's computer haven. To the left was Blood Raven's contemporary occult study. Dead ahead of her had been Blood Raven's genealogical study. January's name - and that of her entire family history - had once graced that giant marble wall in the center of the room. Now all of that was gone, and instead the space was furnished as a sitting room, decorated with Victorian chairs, couches, and coffee tables.

January stepped off the landing pad of the waypoint system, and strode around the central block of marble. This took her through what had been the contemporary study. The old black stone tech bro executive desk was gone. So too the shelves and bookcases that had once been crammed with modern books upon magic, religion, occult studies, and role-playing games. Even her old Civil War uniform and musket were gone, along with the glass case that had contained them.

She continued on to the ancient wizard's den on the far side of the space. Here too the old Queen Antoinette desk was gone. Likewise the ancient stone block that may have been the real Emerald Tablet, and all the old tomes of magical lore. All were missing.

Blood Raven stood here, before the freight elevator. Like January, she was not clad in her armor, but rather in everyday clothing. Beside her were several wooden crates, taller than she was. All looked new, and still had that fresh smell of wood about them. It was a sharp contrast to the dust on the floor that outlined the positions of the missing furniture.

The old elevator rattled to a halt, and a moment later its two vertical doors clattered up and down to reveal Cray within. He stood beside a rusted and scratched up metal dolly, and beads of sweat dotted his brow. In spite of his obviously menial activities, the middle-aged man was as ever clad in slacks, a sweater vest, and tie. He smiled slightly when he saw January. But then his face turned somber when he looked to Blood Raven.

"You told her, did you not?" the now auburn-haired heroine sighed. "Et tu Brute?"

"She had a right to know." The old man shrugged.

Blood Raven shook her head. Even now, without the cape and armor, she was not really Branwen to January. Nor was she Anne, or any of the other names the elder heroine had used throughout the years. She would always be Blood Raven. It was hard to imagine her as just an ordinary person, with an ordinary life. Did she even have a life outside of the cape anymore?

January's teacher turned a moment, and sent a glowing tendril of power from each of her hands. These snaked out through the air, and wrapped around different crates. With just a glance the glowing whips of energy lifted the wooden containers as if they were weightless, and gently deposited them within the freight elevator. In just a few moments the last of them were inside, and Blood Raven followed them within.

She paused there, and turned to look back at January. The young woman felt herself summoned, and followed into the wide freight car. Cray coughed, and awkwardly excused himself. A moment later he stepped outside, and the doors of the elevator clanked shut.

"You're not even going to say goodbye to him?" January wondered as the elevator began its long descent down through the skyscraper. "Or is he going too?"

"We have made our farewells," Blood Raven sighed, and turned to face January. "I knew this would be difficult. It always is. I have done this a hundred times. It only grows more arduous with each repetition. I have found that quietly moving on is most expedient. I wrote a letter for you, and one for Xochitl. Cray was to deliver them both tomorrow. But it seems that will not be necessary now."

"So you really are just leaving then?" January asked. Part of her was still dumbfounded by her mentor's decision to go. "I thought we were building something here, with the Alliance, with the governor, the attorney general, with everyone."

"You built those things great-granddaughter," Blood Raven insisted. "You have done so much, in so little time. It astounds me still. I am so proud of you. You are truly the best of our bloodline."

"You are as much a part of this as I am," January argued. "You are the one who led us all this time. The Battle of Belle Isle, that was all you. The rest of us just helped. You saved the world."

"We all saved the world - together - and that is because of you." Blood Raven shook her head. "They never would have followed me, if not for your bringing them all together to begin with. For that I shall be eternally grateful, and for the things you have reminded me of in my old age, such as the importance of striving in concert for common cause."

"Then why leave?" January said. "Strive in concert with us. I thought you were happy this morning, when we were all here together. Wasn't that why you wanted all of us Raven Sisters to meet?"

"I was happy!" Blood Raven insisted. "I am mightily contented. It warms my heart to see all of you young people together. As I said before, you are my legacy. You are my greatest achievement. All of you are. That is why I wanted all of you together. I wanted you all to see that. You have done the thing every teacher prays for. You have grown beyond me. You will all do great things - you already have - and I am so proud of you all."

"But it is time for me to move on from this life," Blood Raven continued. "I have spent fifty years here in Detroit, longer than I have ever tarried in one lifetime. It is not wise for one such as I to do this. Nor is it to attract as much attention as I have of late. The others... of my kind... have begun to whisper of my recklessness. It is time for me to go, and for Branwen Renner to fade into obscurity."

"I am so glad, and thankful, that you and your friends are here to take my place and carry on. Cray shall remain. We spoke of this. His life is here. It is where he belongs now. He wants to continue working with the Alliance."

"I don't know what we'd do without him," January said quite honestly. "I don't know what we will do without you."

"You will spread your wings and fly granddaughter!" Blood Raven practically beamed. She laid her hands upon January's shoulders, and leaned in close to stare her in the eyes. "It is time for you to step out of my shadow, and be your own woman. Claim your own victories, and make your own mistakes. All of your life is in front of you. I know that you shall be magnificent."

The elevator lumbered to halt with a groan of metal. The twin doors trundled open a moment later, revealing the dusty loading dock of the Detroit Radiator Building beyond. January saw a rental truck there, backed up to the concrete platform. Its back door was open, and the interior of its cargo bay was packed with boxes and blanket-draped furniture.

Without a word, Blood Raven turned aside and lifted the last of the crates with her glowing ribbons of power. In no time at all she had them packed away within the truck and shut its rear gate, all without moving an inch from January's side. Finally she turned to the younger woman, and folded her arms around her in a warm embrace.

"This is au revoir, not adieu," her mentor insisted. "It is not as if I never congregate with your sisters after all. We shall meet again as well."

January wanted to say something. But the knot that had grown within her throat choked off any words that she might have attempted to issue forth. She heard herself sniffling, and felt her eyes well with water. She could only raise a hand to wave goodbye as Blood Raven strode across the dock and then leaped off its edge to the driveway below. Blood Raven paused to return the wave. Then she climbed into the truck, and drove off into the night.

January shut the roll up door that led from the enclosed loading dock behind her. She stood there upon the concrete driveway for a long time. Finally, when she was ready, she returned to the elevator. She took it back up to their headquarters in the Raven's Nest, to her headquarters now. Somehow she and Cray and the others would have to fill the empty spaces left behind.

"So how did that go?" Cray's voice wafted across the now empty space before the elevator. January turned to see the elder hacker rounding the corner from his computer domain. His thumbs were hooked into the empty belt loopholes in his slacks. As ever, a class ring decorated one of his fingers. With gray hair and mustache, reddish brown glasses, and his eternal grampa attire, he looked older than her actual father. Granted, he was far more sympathetic and approachable.

January sighed, and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what I should have expected."

"Yeah, your great-great - lots of greats - grandma has always been like that," Cray noted. "I think it comes with her age. She's seen a lot of people come and go through her life. I imagine she's had to leave a lot of them. I can't imagine what is like knowing that no matter where you are, or how much you love it there, you will have eventually to move on and leave everyone behind. It must be hard."

"Yeah," January murmured. She gazed out the window. The skyscrapers of the Financial District rose up before her eyes. Beyond them lay the black ribbon of the Detroit River, and the bright lights of Windsor farther still. But her eye was drawn to Belle Isle. The state park should have been dark at this time of night. Instead it glowed with the warmth of the miniature sun that was Y Ddraig Aur, who remained eternally vigilant near its south-western tip.

"So you are staying?" January turned to face the much older man.

"I am staying," Cray repeated. "I've been here for oh, fifteen years now, since I got out of prison for blowing the whistle. I've got a life here. I've got a daughter, and an ex-wife."

"You have a daughter?" For the second time in the night, January felt like a ton of bricks had fallen atop her. It occurred to her that while Cray had been the trusted voice in her ear for months now, she really knew almost nothing about him. That was clearly going to have to change.

"Yeah, I've got a daughter!" Cray practically beamed. Like every parent that January had ever met, he instantly reached back into his pocket for his phone. She idly noted that it was one of the those fancy Hamsung models that folded in half, easily ten times the price of her own personal phone. It instantly glowed to life, and just as quickly he had his picture gallery up and tapped on a photo. He turned the screen around to display a child with long brown hair and warm green eyes. January guessed her age at being somewhere between six and twelve. She was not really good at telling that sort of thing with children.

"Wow, that's great," January said. She really did not know what to say when people showed you their kids. Well, obviously something nice of course. But could you really congratulate someone for having children? Aside from the awesome and overwhelming responsibility, it seemed like a huge pain in the rear. January knew what kids were like after all. She was one once herself. She would not wish such an ordeal upon her worst enemy...

Then again, Nátthrafn did have children, many of them apparently. And one of them had been Blood Raven, her own great-grandmother, seven-times removed. So her own worst enemy had in fact, endured such a fate. Though somehow she doubted that Natty Dark had been up late at night changing diapers...

"How did the whole divorce thing work out? I mean, does your daughter live with you?"

"No, she lives with her mom," Cray explained. "But I get her most weekends."

"So how do you work the whole... this... into all that?" January waved her arms wide to indicate the entire loft that surrounded them. "I mean, do they know?"

"Oh hell no," Cray's eyes boggled at the thought. "They think I'm a network engineer who usually works remote for an IT company. I tell them I'm always on call as part of the job. That explains why I have to unexpectedly disappear to a computer sometimes. It's also boring enough for them to not want to know more."

"I'll have to remember that one," January mused. "I mean, no one is going to believe that I'm an IT guy, but it could work for Avery or Ryo."

"Yeah, the double life is tough," Cray nodded. "It's hard, lying to the people closest to you. But it's something we have to do."

"It's like being in the closet again," January frowned. She could not help but think of her mother, who still had no idea that her daughter was the same Stormcrow who seemed to be inspiring her so much of late. Every time her mother brought up Stormcrow, it was hard to bite her lip and shut up. But January knew well enough that some truths did not bring comfort or joy, but rather quite the opposite.

"I... never thought of it that way," Cray took a moment to consider. "But now that you mention it, I can see what you mean. It must be extra hard on kids like you and Avery. I mean, you've had to be in the closet for real when you were younger. Now you are stuck right back there, even if for entirely different reasons."'

"Yeah, as Blood Raven likes to say: The world is wider, and stranger place than any of us imagine." January sighed. She turned to look at the empty space that loomed around her, and pushed away the moroseness that threatened to smother her.

"So what are we going to do with this place?"

"We'll just have to fill it," Cray said. "With something that is us. I was thinking maybe a few pinball machines, or some old arcade games, like Defender, or Asteroids. Maybe put in a pool table."

"Avery will like that," January smiled in spite of herself. "Maybe we could hang up a punching bag, or set up a Wing Chun practice dummy. Ryo will probably want to put in a wargaming table. He loves painting the little figurines."

* * *

A really well done farewell. It quite reflected the fact that Blood Raven has had to do this numerous times. In fact, it reminded me of other stories where the student has learned everything a mentor has to teach and is coaxed out into the world solo.

I’m glad that Cray is staying to help anchor things. Funny but true that Jan realizes how little she knows about the older hacker. What he begins to show her of himself though is promising and I can see a real friendship could grow there.

So the Stromcrow is now Mistress of the Raven’s Nest. What adventures we have to look forward to!


Nits:
’Aside from the awesome and overwhelming responsibility, it seemed like a huge pain {in} the rear.’
’But January knew well enough that the {delete ‘the’} some truths did not bring comfort or joy, …’

Massholes!

A Baltimore super who rides a demon cycle sounds swell. Two suggestions: he or she has to be familiar with Old Bay seasoning, which "goes on anything" as many Baltimorons insist. Doesn't have to like it, just be familiar with it. And if he or she's into sports at all, there'll be some sort of hatred for the Pittsburgh Steelers! Not actual hatred, just ... Pittsburgh is B'more's sister in rivalry. Not just for football, but back in the day when both cities were more industry-based. I believe this could have something to do with why The Pitt became one of Fallout 3's DLC. ☢ One of these days I'm going to have Cho or Janet go there to find out.

So you're saying Miss Raven is really gone for good? Hmm... They won't even consult one another in the astral (or some other such) plane???

As always, I am awed by your description of their living spaces, even though in this case, all of Branwen'st things have been packed away, as if they were never there at all. Such imagination.

Well hey, at least since she's magical, the Bloody Raven won't ever have to make those awkward phone calls. "Hey... so I'll be arranging to migrate toward my original locale as of next week, forfeiting my entire domain here in Michigan. Perchance might you find fit, and be available for assistance?" - Nope, that's one conversation she'll never have to burden her friends with.



"Of my kind?" .... other vampires? Or other supers? Either way, what a statement. It is, in fact, quite true. She's definitely a Chaotic, operating within a world full of Lawfuls for sure. Anyway, good thing Cray's still going to be available. He's quite a character, in an unassuming sort of way.

Cool. "We shall meet again". Phew.

Hamsung!!!!

Yeah, those little figureines are fun to paint. I still have dozens of them. Anyway, sorry to hear Raven has moved on. But maybe Avery can finally move out of his grandma's basement. He and Cray together... imagine the spectral possibilities.

I can definitely see how that'd be inspiration! I'd have actually mentioned Pickman's Model earlier, but for some reason I'd misremembered that as taking place in NYC instead of Boston.

While I sympathize with Blood Raven's reasons for leaving, I can see why it would upset January. January was closer to her than the others. As a mentor and dear friend, it'll be a difficult parting.

January thinking of her as "Blood Raven" as opposed to any other name shows just how strong an effect that particular persona had on January's life.

It makes sense that Blood Raven tends to be abrupt about this. Since that sort of thing would hurt after a while. Plus, with so many friends lost to the onward march of time, it gets hard to become close to anyone.

And Blood Raven is correct: for all that she helped, January's the person who actually brought the team together. That's the strength that January has, but Blood Raven lacks. Heroic though she is, she tends to be a bit aloof, which isn't great for a team leader.

I like that Y Ddraig Aur is still there. It's a lasting memento of their victory.

Yeah, I can't see Nátthrafn as being an attentive dad. Hell, you probably wouldn't want attention from him.

Well, it's melancholy but also sweet. January can definitely stand on her own, and while Blood Raven will be pursuing her own goals in Boston, she's far from vanished. Now, January's in a good place to chart out her own course.

Acadian: January does need that push out of the nest so that she can learn to fly on her own once more. It started out as just her and Gadget. But once Blood Raven came along, everything changed dramatically. January's horizons really expanded, and she became part of a much larger world, where everything took on much greater import. Now she has to learn to remain in that wider world, but without the guiding figure of Blood Raven to watch over her. It is intimidating.

As I was writing that I realized that I did not know that much about Cray myself. So I was literally doing some character building in order to put in his ex-wife and daughter, along with his liking retro arcade games. He is heavily inspired by the character Gambi in the TV show Black Lightning, where the same actor (James Remar) plays a mentor/tech support/quartermaster type character. I borrow so heavily from that role in my head, that I have been forgetting to really flesh out who and what Cray is in the Crowverse. I also just figured out he loves Classic Rock, big fan of Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger, Peter Frampton, etc... So maybe he will have some memorabilia to put up, like a guitar of Jimmy Page's.

The rest of this book is all about January's new adventures, standing on her own. And by her own, I of course mean with a lot of help from others. Because the real superpowers are the friends you make along the way.


Renee: Is there a large Korean population in Baltimore? Because the character I am working on is shaping up to be a Korean immigrant, a horse archer based on the RL Hwarang.

I do know about Old Bay. I have some! It's think its pretty much an entire Mid-Atlantic and New England kind of thing.

I also have in mind a Philly-based hero. But really in the conceptual stages right now. I like the idea of someone train-inspired. He would probably be a power armor character. But I can't think of a name. I'd like something railroad-related, like the name of a famous train. But nothing I come across - like the Orient Express - works. Mr. Penn Central or Captain Amtrak sounds pretty weak too. Maybe something like Firebox, or Rail might work. Though the latter kind of sounds like a Pr0N star...

Being a super means you can lift all your furniture on your own. Well, Cray was there to help as well.

This is not really an Urban Fantasy series (though technically I think you make a case that superheros might fit in that genre). So I don't plan to really flesh out vampire society in the Crowverse. But it has been mentioned before that there are other vampires in addition to Blood Raven, and that they have rules about keeping the existence of their kind on the down low. Blood Raven has been playing very fast and loose with those rules, living in one place in the same identity for 50 years. She has to leave. It is long overdue.

I don't really see Ryo as an artist. But I think he would like the precision and patience it takes to paint the little Warhammer figures. He could easily sit there for hours doing it.


WellTemperedClavier: Blood Raven's leaving is really not much of a big deal for the others. They have all been Raven-free for a long time. But where Blood Raven simply trained them, and then occasionally dipped into their lives afterward from time to time, January has been working very closely with Blood Raven for some time now. And given the world-shattering stakes - and her blood ties - she does indeed have a big emotional investment in Blood Raven. So it is a big deal to her, where to the others it really changes nothing much at all.

Except for Xochitl. She has an investment in Blood Raven as well, and we will be exploring that today. Come to think of it Ryo does too. But Ryo is unflappable.

Blood Raven is indeed abrupt, and aloof. It comes from her age, and having to move on like this so many times. January always was a foil to her in that respect, in that she has always been earnest in her desire to create bonds of alliance, if not real friendship, with others. As you noted, that is January's greatest super power.

I expect Y Ddraig Aur will be there for a long time. I intend to continue referencing it in the future. It is now Detroit's biggest landmark! I think at some point when Belle Isle gets cleaned up and reopened there will be a ceremony at the foot of the dragon, that the Allies will of course attend. Maybe others as well.

Thankfully for his kids, when Nátthrafn was alive it was in eras where the wimmin's did all the child-rearing. Including servants and slaves. As Blood Raven herself once noted to January, her nanny as a child was a slave owned by her father. It is one of the reasons she is an abolitionist. She was made a party to slavery from the moment of her birth.









Xochitl

Blahaj Tee

Three Wil Wheaton Tee

The Golden Bough - Sympathetic Magic




Book 11.9 - Raven Sisters

July 11th, morning.

Is the landing pad clear?

January texted on her smartphone.

The 'rents are gone, and bro is in the shower.

Came Xochitl's reply.

January slid her phone into the back pocket of her pants. She closed her eyes, and brought up her mana. She stretched out with it and touched the waypoint network. A glowing pentacle rimmed with Celtic knotwork glowed to life in the floor of the sanctum beneath her feet. She felt the interface of the system of nodes rise up in her mind. Like swiping left or right on a phone, she flipped through the various other waypoints available for her to use.

Finally, she found the newest one, and connected to that. The enchantment built into the runes did the rest. It linked the two points in space and time, and the next thing January knew, she was standing in Xochitl's bedroom.

The early morning sun streamed in through the large windows that stood at opposite ends of the attic. The roof rose up to a sharp peak overhead, obliging January to either duck her head or remain in the center of the space. A bed lay nestled beneath one of these slanted ceiling sections, and a dresser sat against the wall opposite it. Between the two, and directly beneath the window on this side of the attic sat a desk that was piled with art supplies, a laptop, and a drawing tablet.

The walls and ceiling were slathered in artwork. Some were black and white pencil sketches that had clearly been done by hand. Others were in color, and possessed more detail and finish, but were likewise plainly drawn the old-fashioned way. Finally some were on glossy paper, and these showed a depth of color and precision that made January imagine that they had been crafted upon the computer via the art tablet, and later printed out.

They came in a range of subjects. Some were idyllic nature scenes featuring things such as lush green forests and vibrant sunsets. Others were of people, such as Blood Raven and herself. These competed with sketches of mythological creatures such as dragons and griffins, and finally geometric designs that looked Mesoamerican in origin.

It briefly reminded January of her friend Rus' room. He too festooned every inch of his personal space with his artwork. But where he preferred to draw space marines and orks, Xochitl clearly had different inspirations.

Xochitl herself sat there on her bed. The teenager's hair spilled down her face in an unruly ebon waterfall, nearly obscuring her soft brown eyes. She wore an oversized Blahaj tee that fell to her knees, featuring the iconic shark in the colors of the Trans Flag: blue, white, and pink. A pair of fluffy slippers clad her feet, but otherwise her legs were bare.

"Did I just wake you up?" January asked.

"Oh no, totally not." The young woman yawned loudly, and stretched her arms high over her head.

"Clearly not then," January smiled and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I forget not everyone gets up as early as I do."

"Don't tell me you're a morning person?" Xochitl murmured. "My parents are. They are up at the crack of dawn every day, even when they aren't working at the Burger Baron. You'd think that being the owners, they'd give them themselves a better schedule."

"They own it?" January wondered, raising an eye brow ever so slightly.

"One franchise store yes, over in Ann Arbor." Xochitl rubbed her eyes. "My older brother works there too. He likes it. So he'll probably run it someday. Me, I'd rather be anywhere else."

"Yeah, I can see that," January turned around to take in the drawings that decorated the walls and ceiling. "We all have to follow our bliss, even in the morning."

"Blech," Xochitl made a face. "Mornings..."

"I guess I am morning person then." January smiled. "I can't sleep in the light. It just doesn't work for me. Not even on the weekends, or after a gaming all-nighter."

"Nerd!" Xochitl cried with a smile.

"Guilty as charged your honor!" January laughed. "We Knights of Nerddom do an all-nighter every New Years Eve. Then we go out and get breakfast."

"That sounds awesome." Xochitl mused. "I don't have any friends who are into role-playing games."

"Well, maybe we can get you out some night," January said quite honestly. "We usually meet in my friend Avery's basement. But gaming nights have been a little far and between lately. Our friend Blackjack's been out of town, and Kell is going to be moving Up North for school soon. My own life has been busy lately too."

"Busy, yeah, I bet the end of the world gets in the way of your social life." Xochitl yawned again.

"Actually the end of the world was postponed due to a gaming session," January smiled. The young Mexican-American looked at her with confusion in her eyes. So she went on. "It's a long story, but we were gaming all afternoon and into the evening. The Hierophant grabbed me afterward, when I was alone. If not for that gaming session, the Battle of Belle Isle would have happened in the middle of the day."

"Now that is wild to think of," Xochitl's eyes widened as she considered the ramifications. "If that had started when Belle Isle was open, there would have been thousands of people there."

"And a lot of them would have died," January nodded. "Gaming saves lives. I wish I could say that in public, but it would be too big of a clue as to who I am out of the cape."

"I get it, what happens in Cape Club, stays in Cape Club," Xochitl raised her hand in the air, as is she was swearing an oath.

January herself was not wearing her Stormcrow suit. She was dressed in her Three Wil Wheaton tee and a pair of jeans. She dug into her purse, and pulled out a sealed envelope. Xochitl's name was written across its face in delicate, flowing calligraphy.

"Cape Club is why I am here this early," January handed the letter to Xochitl. "Well one reason. I have to fly soon to meet someone. But first I have news, and this, for you."

The teenage girl took the envelope and turned it over a few times in her hand, then looked to January.

"It's from Blood Raven," January declared. It was simplest to just get right on with it. "She left for Boston last night. She wanted you to have this."

"I haven't read it of course, but I think it is about your training. She and I have talked about it before. Like she said yesterday morning when we are all together, she will continue to train you if you want. I know that, without looking at what's in there. It might take her some time before she can though, with everything else she has going on. I expect that once she makes a new lair in Boston, she will forge a new node for the waypoint network. But that could be a while. She is going to have to find a place she will want to set down roots first."

"Or, if you want to roll the dice, I'll teach you," January forced the words from her mouth with an effort of will. "I don't know everything like Blood Raven does. But I know people who do: our sisters. What I don't know, they can teach us together."

Xochitl carefully opened the envelope, and drew out the folded up letter within. January could not make out the exact words inside. But she could see that it was written in the same elegant hand that was on the envelope. January idly wondered how people could have the patience and genuine artistic skill to write so beautifully. Her own penmanship was not chicken scratch, but it was far from calligraphy either.

January stood in silence as the young woman read. Xochitl said nothing, but her frown grew deeper and deeper. January felt her heart quicken is pace, and mouth begin to dry. She wanted to fidget. She wanted to move. She wanted to fight.

Instead she breathed deeply, and felt her mana within her. She raised it up, and let it flow through her aura like a cool stream. She concentrated on her breathing, felt her energy, and let that wash away the anxiety that wanted to yell and scream in her head. It even worked, for the most part.

Finally Xochitl put the letter down on her desk, and exhaled sharply.

"I guess it's nothing I didn't expect, not after what she said yesterday," Xochitl said. "But I didn't think it'd be so soon. I thought she'd still be around for a while."

"I knew this would be difficult. It always is." Blood Raven's words from the night before came back to January.

"I think she's a rip the bandage off kind of person," January tried to explain. "She's had to do this before, and it's painful for everyone, her too. But she has to go."

"But why does she?" Xochitl wondered. "I get that she wants to investigate this stuff in Boston. But why can't she do that and come back? Why does she have to leave forever?"

"How can I explain this?" January wondered aloud. How indeed, without revealing that Blood Raven was a vampire, and as such she could not afford to draw too much attention to her kind by living in one place for too long. "She's been here for fifty years. Fifty years. People are noticing that she has not gotten any older from how she looked in 1967. She should be eighty years old now."

"What?" Xochitl's blustered, and her eyes practically exploded from her head. "She's eighty? She only looks thirty. Though I guess that's about the same, right?"

Privately, thirty did seem ancient to January's nineteen-year old mind. But she did not need to get into that.

"It's a lot more," January noted dryly.

"So, she looks young. She's a meta-human. Well, a magician. I guess a good skincare routine plus sorcery helps a lot." Xochitl reasoned. "What's the big deal?"

"I can't say," January replied. "I mean that, I can't. I've probably said too much as it is. But you are smart, you would have noticed it anyhow. All I can say, is that people as old as Blood Raven prefer to keep it on the down low. There's a good reason for that, number one being their safety."

"What, is she in the closet somehow?" Xochitl's brows furrowed in concentration. "Is she hiding something?"

"We are all hiding something in order to protect others," January insisted. "But I guess you could compare it to being in the closet. Just like a lot of us Queer people - or Witches - have to hide what we are. It's important."

"This is weird," Xochitl shook her head in frustration.

"Yes it is," January now found herself smiling. "Welcome to living a magic life."

"Wait, is she from some lost, hidden magical race?" Xochitl's eyes lit up, and January's heart nearly stopped. "Is she a Fae? She's Irish right? She said her people were from Ireland, hence the red hair. She's one of the Faerie Folk. She's a Sidhe!"

January's heart began to beat again, and she fought back a sigh of relief. Blood Raven the Faerie was much better than Blood Raven the vampire. She did not much like lying to Xochitl. But in this case, it might be better to just let her believe what she wanted to believe.

"I never said that," January insisted. "More importantly, you never said that, got it? We don't talk about this sort of thing, ever, to anyone. Not even your Raven Sisters."

Privately, January had no idea how much her other sisters knew. Like Xochitl, they were not stupid. Surely they had noticed their teacher's lack of aging in the last half-century. Especially given that some of them had met her when they were children, and were now in their thirties and forties. They had plenty of time to notice that as they aged themselves, Blood Raven had remained stuck upon a single print of time.

Likewise, they had been there for the ritual at the Battle of Belle Isle. The deepness and strength of their combined magic that day had revealed to January many moments from Blood Raven's life. That had included her death and resurrection as a vampire. How much of that had the others seen? More? Less? The same? Again, none of her sisters were stupid. Some of them - like Silverlight - were also deeply versed in magical theory and history. Surely they knew already?

But even if that was the case, the Queer person inside January knew that it would still never be cool for her to out her mentor as a vampire. That was not her secret to divulge. But at the same time, how could she start her relationship with Xochitl on the foundation of a lie?

"She's not a Fae," January said plainly. "This is isn't an Urban Fantasy novel. There aren't any lost races, or hidden civilizations, or aliens, or any of that lurking beneath the surface of the ordinary world. There is just us, you and me, and people like us."

"And people like Blood Raven?" Xochitl ventured.

"And people like Blood Raven," January repeated the young woman's words. "I'm sorry that I can't tell you more. But it isn't for me to do that. Think back to before you transitioned, and imagine if someone outed you at school."

"Yeah, I get it," Xochitl murmured with a frown. "As much as I am curious, yeah, it's not my beeswax. You can trust me. You both can trust me. I am always going to be on your side."

"So then, that out of way, where do you want to go with your training?" January picked up the chair beside the desk, and flipped it around backward. She then spread her legs in a most unladylike fashion and straddled the chair. She laid her hands on the top of the backrest, and leaned forward to rest her chin on her steepled fingers.

"I think... I know, that I want you to teach me." Xochitl breathed. "I mean, no offense to Blood Raven, but you're here. She's not. She's been a good teacher. But you've been a good friend."

"Then we'll make it so," January smiled, even though inside she wanted to panic once more. She had no idea how to do this. But then again, she had no idea how to fly when she went out that window with Lighthammer, and that had worked out in the end. After a crash of course, but who was counting?

She held out her closed fist, and Xochitl grinned, and pressed her own knuckles against January's.

"Okay, in that case, I have a reading assignment." January waved a hand to stifle Xochitl's groan. "It's a section from a book called the Golden Bough, by James Frazier. It's going to be all about sympathetic magic, and the Law of Contact, and the Law of Similarity. Once you're done, we'll get together and talk about it. Remember what Blood Raven said. The things you don't understand are the most important. Write down what you don't get, and hopefully I can explain."

January hoped she sounded a lot more certain than she felt. In any case, it looked like she was going to be spending some of the experience points she had earned from saving the world in raising her Magical Theory skill...

"Oh, just a warning," January added. "The Golden Bough is an old book, from the late 1800s, early 1900s. That means it comes with some baggage common to a lot of writers of that time: old, White Men writers, talking about Indigenous Peoples. So... don't be surprised to see some terms for native populations that you wouldn't be subjected to today."

"But that aside, what he says about magic itself is spot on. I've used this kind of magic myself. Blood Raven and I both did. It's one of the ways we stopped the Hierophant." January thought of the poppets that she and Blood Raven had created to build a system to warn them of Abyssal summonings. "That's why I put it on the syllabus. This stuff works."

"And until then, keep practicing with your runes," January added. "The more you practice, the better you will get."

* * *

My hometown Ellicott City, has a Koreatown, but EC is not Baltimore, it is maybe 3 towns away from B'more. Ellicott City is mostly sprawl, and Koreatown hasn't got the "feel" of an old-world ethnic area such as Chinatown in San Fran.

Apparently, Baltimore does have K-town.

Baltimore’s “K-town,” or Little Korea, is bounded by North Avenue on the south, N. Howard Street on the west, 24th Street on the north, and N. St. Paul Street on the east...


.... but I personally did not that area is known as K'town. These days, I go into Baltimore as little as possible; too many random shootings/car-jackings. BUT I can tell you this: that area ... North Avenue to 24th Street, does (or did) have a lot of Asian restaurants & businesses. I lived in that area during part of my 20s. It is also pretty sketchy /somewhat dangerous, especially at night, even though that is Charles Village. Actually, that is lower Charles Village (there's an Upper and a Lower). Upper Charles Village (above 25th Street) it suddenly gets prettier & a bit safer. And as you keep continuing north toward Hopkins that entire area is lovely. But below 25th (and anywhere to the east) it gets sketchier and sketchier.

That's the entire thing about Baltimore: you can be in an area like Fells Point or Chas. Village or Bolton Hill where it's beautiful. Home properties are high, and all that. But walk just a few blocks and there'll be litter in the streets. Gunshots at night, and so on. A lot of the nicer areas are like havens, surrounded by poverty & decadent rowhouses, just like you'd see in The Wire.

In any event, your Korean super will have plenty to do crimewise, even if he or she is relatively new in town.

Now... if your super is LGBTQ let me introduce you to Mount Vernon, specifically Eager Street where Club Hippo... whoa. What's this? The Hippo has closed!! It's now a CVS???

Oy. Anyway. Mount Vernon probably is still the premier area for LGBTQ. Like I said though, I hardly ever go in the city nowadays.

And now, let's see what's been happening in Michigan. Xochitl looks familiar. Hmm, I know her face from some movies, at least, I think I do. I keep thinking of America what's-her-name, but that's not her.

Wow, that teleportation ability is stunning! Xochitl's room sounds cozy. I can see her and January becoming good friends. They're relatively close in age.

Yep, that's right. They'd been gaming just before all of that happened at Belle Isle.



Yeah it would be, especially if she's got an online gamertag of some sort.

Very true about calligraphy being almost a lost art. I've often thought this is due to the fact that back then, there was no Internet, no computers, no TV, even. Writing letters with elegant scrawlings could then become an art form; something to dedicate oneself toward. And reading letters could be a form of entertainment, in a way.

Wow.. Jan's really full of energy ain't she? Almost like rage. Almost sounds like she can barely control herself, while trying to stay patient while the teen reads this elegantly-written letter. That's an interesting segue of thoughts.

Raven should be 80 years old now! Never really thought of it that way. Even January's family, the Wards. Eventually they'll all have aged while Branwen has not. ... "A good skin care routine..." If only it worked that way!

Cape Club! Xochitl is already learning how complicated the caped life is.

A wonderful description of the artwork that decorates Xochitl’s attic.

Jan did a good job threading the needle of not spilling the blood on Blood Raven’s vampirism. She is right that it is Blood Raven’s secret to divulge (or not). It seems her young apprentice understands that so it is on to some teachin’. Well, a reading assignment anyway. Xochitl seems pretty cluey and trustworthy so far.

Tough job that January has here: Xochitl does have a stronger bond with Blood Raven, as you said, and that'll make it harder for her to take this. I did enjoy how Xochitl has some believably teenage rushes of enthusiasm, like when she starts speculating about Blood Raven being Fae; it fits her character quite well.

Interesting bit where January chooses to keep Blood Raven's vampirism private. Everyone in her circle has to keep some secrets just for safety's sake, and it makes sense that she'd see the commonality.

For some reason, I thought January was a bit older than 19, like more in the 22-24 range. That's a testament to her maturity!

Another detail about Baltimore which might help are its police cameras like this one.

So basically, if you're in a "safe" neighborhood, like Charles Village (including the area they're referring to as K-Town), Federal Hill, Hampden, Roland Park, chances are you won't see any of these cameras, and this is for two reasons.

1). The 'better' neighborhoods often have community watches. Dedicated neighbors who spend time watching their streets at night.

2). People who live in those better neighborhoods don't want to feel like they've got this presence watching over them.

However, if you're in a neighborhood with a lot more problems: Cherry Hill, Druid Hill, Greenmount, Upton, Pulaski, etc., the cameras tend to be on every corner, very obvious for anyone to see! - Maybe you've got them in Detroit, as well.

Now... this isn't to say that cameras which link directly to the police aren't also in the nicer neighborhoods; chances are they could be, these days. If so, they are hidden. And I'm only mentioning all this because of Cray & Avery. Because... we know what they can do with cameras on supposedly secure networks, right?

All: I am thinking of switching to a twice weekly posting schedule. How would that work out for everyone? I have a pretty big backlog of Crowtent in just this Book, and I am working on the next one already. It can take half a year to get one Book posted, which I know makes it easy to forget things that happened earlier. So I was thinking a more regular schedule might be desirable.

Renee: Thanks for all Baltimore info. It really helped me bring the character together. She will be from Mount Vernon. That is the neighborhood that just calls out to me as being hip enough to be right for her. She is shaping up to be a musician, maybe a guitar player. She might play in clubs around there.

Xochitl's picture is from RL Xochitl Gomez. She starred as America Chavez in the most recent Dr. Strange movie. So you probably saw her there.

My penmanship has always been terrible. I call it my 128 bit encryption, since no one else can read it. So I envy people who can write elegantly and gracefully, like in calligraphy.

Anne/Branwen/Blood Raven is actually 250 years old now. Remember, she is a vampire. It is her identity as Blood Raven that has been around for 50 years, with her appearing to be 30 from the start. Hence as far as the rest of the world is concerned, they would think Blood Raven is 80 years old.

Detroit does have something like those cameras in Baltimore. You are right in that Cray and Avery would have a field day with those cameras! The system in Detroit is called Project Green Light. The Detroit PD will put cameras in a business that they directly monitor. But you have to pay the police extra for it.


Acadian: I was originally going to stick with January letting Xochitl believe that Blood Raven was a Fae, like from a modern Urban Fantasy novel. But it just was not right. She could not start out her relationship with Xochitl with a lie. So instead she went with the very unsatisfying and messy not-answer that she gave instead. That she just can't say why Blood Raven can't remain in the public eye for too long.

Granted, how long Blood Raven can keep from Blood Ravening is questionable. She is not the kind of person who can sit back for long, and not take action when it so clearly is in need. So do not be surprised to see Blood Raven appearing on the Boston Evening News in the future

Xochitl can be a little challenging to write, given her youth and the generational differences. I have to really think back to how being 15 felt. She's very eager, and ready to jump out into the world. Like Avery, she makes a good friend for January.


WellTemperedClavier: Xochitl definitely has some feelings of being abandoned by Blood Raven, especially since she dropped the bomb that she was leaving right after her first real magic lesson. It is one of the reasons why she chose January to be her teacher. As she said, January is there, Blood Raven is not.

But as Blood Raven noted herself when they first met Xochitl, January can be more than just a teacher, she can be Xochitl's friend, in a way Blood Raven never can be. I think even Xochitl herself can recognize this. January's kindness and empathy have a way of shining through in her relationships. She is kind of the Captain America of the Crowverse, except maybe even nicer.

Xochitl can be bubbly and enthusiastic. Those are some of her best qualities! She has a lot of youthful energy and purity of spirit. In some ways, she can be the ray of warmth and hope to January, that January has been to Blood Raven. Especially going forward into Season Two.

January is very mature for her age. More than I was a that time. Though I was always more mature than others my age. I always fit in better with the grown-ups than with the other teens or even children. But Jan's life has been tougher than mine in some ways, though easier in others. She's a lot more determined, and certain, and stubborn than I am.

Though she still is amazed at how old thirty is. She still can't imagine living to such a wizened and decrepit old age.





Metro Airport is on the Stormcrow Map

Detroit Metro Airport

McNamara Terminal Fountain

Video of the spot in the McNamara Terminal where today's episode takes place

The inspiration for Norville Lillard



Book 11.10 - Raven Sisters

July 11th, morning

Less than an hour later January strode through main concourse of Metro Airport. All around her the McNamara Terminal hummed with life, as travelers walked to and fro through the long, narrow building. The ceiling high above curved downward to one side, and was buttressed by cable stays that angled down to meet at descending rods at regular intervals. At least January thought they were structural. For all she knew, they might just be there for looks.

The entire wall on one side of the concourse was taken up by floor to ceiling glass windows. These looked out upon a wide apron that was packed with massive airliners. The nearer ones were connected to the concourse via jetways. The farther ones were linked to a pair of smaller concourses that lay on the opposite side of the giant airplane parking lot. Beyond that stretched out the runways of the airport, and January saw an airliner lift gently into the sky from the longest of these.

She stood within an intersection that cut across the long, slender promenade of the concourse. To her left ran a hallway that led down to the Light Tunnel that connected her concourse to the ones farther beyond. She knew that its name came from the LEDs built into the walls, that washed them with ever shifting light shows.

Just beyond the tunnel a carpeted lounge was set against the glass windows of the concourse. Small cafe tables rose up at irregular places, surrounded by tall chairs. Decorative trees sprouted from planters, and comfortable sofas ran directly alongside the windows. A small grand piano even stood here, though no one was playing.

To her right the intersection led down a wide hall to the main entrance of the entire terminal. Lining the walls here were shops and restaurants. A Burger Baron had a prominent spot at the intersection, and across from it was a Cinnaton shop, from which wafted the smell of fresh bread and the promise of sugary delights.

A nasal voice speaking in a strong New England accent caught January's attention.

"It has been two and a half days since the Abyssal attack upon Detroit, with no further sign of the inter-dimensional invaders. Governor Gretchen Whitaker has deactivated the Michigan National Guard and sent them back to their homes, and the Ohio governor has done likewise with the troops from his own state. There is currently no word on when the 82nd Airborne Division and 75th Ranger Regiment will be withdrawing. Both still remain camped out upon Belle Isle, and man other strategic points throughout the city."

January turned to see that a large TV was playing Worldwide Network News. There on the flat screen she saw the craggy features of Nathaniel Creed as he reported from their studio in New York City. In a smaller window beside him was a picture in picture display of a helicopter's view of the devastation of Belle Isle.

"In related news Governor Whitaker has requested Federal Disaster Relief to help clean up the extensive - some would say catastrophic - damage to Belle Isle and its connecting bridge. But the President has yet to make a determination upon it. Still, he twitted upon a popular social media platform that he has, and I quote, 'a big problem with those women from Michigan, and men who think they are'. He went on to say that they are 'in way over their heads', and 'don't have a clue'."

January shook her head and continued on. None of this came as a surprise of course. Not from this President. Anyone who did not bow and scrape to the decrepit, bigoted, narcissist got the same bullying treatment. She consoled herself with the knowledge that he had lost the popular vote. Besides, she knew how to deal with bullies.

In any case, it looked like Michigan was going to be on its own. She wondered if she and the others in the Alliance might be able to help with rebuilding? Blackhawk had already repaired and refloated the coast guard cutter that had run aground in Canada. She had also partly restored the bridge to Belle Isle. But her electromagnetic powers could not pour new concrete, so there was only so much she could do there.

January's wings and muscles were not going to help rebuild the Belle Isle Casino or other buildings, or plant new grass, or fix the shattered fountain. But maybe she could reach out to others, like the Technocrat? Or maybe closer to home, to her sisters like Silverlight? The lunar heroine seemed to know her way around elemental spirits. January imagined an earth elemental might be quite handy at construction and landscaping.

She paused a moment, at another screen that displayed her kissing Vortex the moment after the Abyssal gateway had been closed. It was strange enough just seeing herself so many places now. But it was almost as unworldly as the Abyss itself, seeing herself kissing another woman on national TV. On International TV, as Gilda Gadfly now pointed out as she proceeded to describe January's second lesbian kiss to be caught on camera.

The near end of the world was one thing for the viewing public. But it apparently it could not compare to shock of seeing a transwoman kissing a ciswoman on television.

That little voice of empathy within her head reminded her that the world had gone just as crazy over Riven and her husband Thunderbolt's own public love affair. They had even gotten married a second time in their super suits and sold the wedding photos to Person Magazine. And of course one the most famous pictures of the end of World War Two was of the powered armor hero Arizona kissing that nurse in Times Square.

She moved on to a fountain that lay just beyond the grand piano and lounge area. Its base was a circular slab of black granite that rose up to waist height. Its surface was cut with concentric rings, like the lines on a flight map. Numerous metal nozzles were set into its surface. From these shot up jets of water, which all arced inward to splash down in the center of the slab. As she watched the steady stream of water turned to a sequence of intermittent jets, that pulsed on and off around the fountain in a steady pattern.

January took a moment to stare at the intricate dance of the jets and spurts of water. They rolled this way and that around the fountain, as if they were dancing. She noted that shiny pennies lay scattered beneath the surface of the water, and for a moment she wished that she had some change to throw in for luck.

"That is an awesome Stormcrow cosplay."

January turned to see a tall, slender young man standing behind her. He had long, shaggy brown hair and a scraggly chin beard, which left his upper lip bare. Next to him was a great dane, whose soft brown fur was decorated with large, dark spots. He wore a therapy dog vest, and his tongue lolled from his head as he stared beatifically at January.

"It's not cosplay," January smiled. She allowed her wings to sprout from her back. Since there was no one else too near, she gently flexed them for a moment, before folding them up along her shoulders and back as she usually did when not in the air.

"Wow! You're, you're..." the reedy man stammered.

"Stormcrow, yes." January nodded and extended her hand. "And you are?"

"Norville... Norville Lillard," he managed to spit out. He gestured to an ID badge that was clipped to his green shirt. Then he nodded down to the great dane at his side. "Scoops and I volunteer here. The pay is terrible, but the snacks are great."

"Um, would you like to pet Scoops?" Norville seemed to gather his wits, perhaps now on familiar ground once more.

"I would love to," January smiled. She knelt down and slid one gauntleted hand down the scruff of the dog's neck. He stared at her with that pure, unadulterated love that only dogs seemed able to possess. He was not even taken aback by her wings. In fact, he leaned forward and licked at the exposed skin of her jaw. January was obliged to keep her mouth tightly shut in order to avoid a repeat of her kiss with Vortex.

"He really likes you," the shaggy man proclaimed. "I mean, more than usual. He must know who you are."

"We crows tend to get along with wolves, and Scoops here is still part wolf. Every dog is. Aren't you Scoops?" January noted, once it was safe for her to speak again. "We've been teaming up for thousands of years."

"Really?" Norville wondered aloud.

"I read about it on the internet, so it must be true," January shrugged. She continued to pet the dog. She had to admit, it felt good. The simple contact, the warm fur, and the adoring canine grin of the dog all combined to make for a soothing experience. She looked back at the vest that proclaimed Scoops' status as a therapy animal. Clearly, it worked.

"Besides, I've got a good friend who's a Sending Wolf," January quipped as she rose to her feet. "An Ôkami," she added when she could see the lack of understanding writ large across the young man's face.

"I hope you don't mind, I'm sure you get this all the time, but I've got to ask."

January braced herself for what was to come. There were so many things it could be, given that she was trans, a woman, a lesbian, and a superheroine. Not all of them were pleasant.

"Could I get a selfie?" Norville asked. "I mean, you're... you're my hero. You're everyone's hero. You saved the world Monday night."

"We all saved the world," January breathed a sigh of relief. That was so much better than the alternatives. "Together, that's how we get through life. And I would love to take a selfie together. That is kind of why I'm here after all."

She waited while the shaggy young man fished out his phone. January absentmindedly noted that it was the same discount model of smartphone that she owned. She waited patiently for the camera app to load, and for him to hold it up to get them in several pictures.

"Did you come to take selfies with fans?" Norville then asked. "I don't think Blood Raven ever did that."

"You'd be surprised! She even smiles upon occasion!" January's laugh at the remark was genuine. She happened to know that her old mentor had indeed done both, on more than one occasion now. "I'm here to meet someone I'm a fan of myself."

Well for me, twice a week is possible, but it could also get complicated at times. Mmmm, I'd better put the rest in spoiler tags to save space.



Anyway, up to you.

Mount Vernon is an awesome neighborhood. I lived there in '94 & '95, in a 3rd floor walkup. Two bedrooms, for just $450 a month!!!!! (imagine that) and we'd often use a third room to house overnight guests, which we'd sometimes need because we were in our 20s, which means we'd often get smashed at The Hippo or some other local nightclub/bar, and now we'd have a place for someone to crash, if need be. This was on Biddle Street, right near the edge of the neighborhhod. Let's see if this map will work.

As you can see, Highway 83 is right there to the east. And you DON'T want to cross over 83. There is no reason to. Cross 83 out of Mount Vernon, and now you're in rough territory. I can remember hearing gunshots at night coming from across the bridge. One of the city's jails is also right across, and to the south. And even though Mt. Vernon itself is one of the better places to live, there were a couple times I had to call 911. One time, I caught somebody trying to steal a car right in the alley behind our apartment.

But still, your super will have a great place to live in Mount Vernon. Assuming you write about any mishaps in Baltimore, she unfortunately won't have to go far to find crime.

I've never seen Doctor Strange, but now I've got something to look forward to watching at some point. 📺

Cinnaton! .... The president "twitted!" I am laughing but it's also rather serious. So it looks like the pres doesn't approve of capes saving the world, eh? I wonder what the alternative would be. Because I don't think our military alone could've done it.

Yikes, so now this shaggy guy with the dog knows who she is!!! Alright, what's going on? Maybe she's doing this as a test. Maybe to reveal her true self to the world, or something. January = Stormcrow?

Like you, I now draft my stories before ever deciding to post them so am well familiar with the prospect that it can easily take six to eighteen months of posting at once a week to get it fully posted. That works for me because I like to take a break from writing between books and devote tons of time to editing and editing and editing some more while in the posting phase.

As a reader, I’m with Renee in enjoying a once a week episode over more frequent postings for the same reasons that she cites. I also enjoy slowly savoring an episode, typically while eating my lunch. Following multiple writers who post more than once a week begins to turn reading from a magical bit of enjoyment into a bit of a chore. There was a time here at chorrol that we had exactly that and, though I kept up, I wrestled a bit with resentment over the time it took.

That said, I am somewhat conflicted because I also believe my job as a reader is to fully support my fellow writers at whatever their creative objectives are and can imagine the frustration when your posting backlog starts pushing a couple years.

So. . . that all said, know that whatever you decide, I will continue to fully and enthusiastically support your efforts – just as you have steadfastly supported Buffy since before we even moved to chorrol.

*

Ah, the smells of Cinnaton, with WNN droning in the background about the near end of the world and love lives of superheroes.

What a welcome meeting with Scoopy Doopy and his adoring fan handler! A welcome light moment to punctuate Stormcrow’s serious thoughts about trying to rebuild Belle Isle. I had a great dane who died about 20 years ago. He was a wonderful dog. A dignified gentleman whose size and commanding presence alone discouraged challenges or unpleasant behavior from people or other animals. And a serious chick magnet of course.

Yah, me too.

Given my own twice-a-week posting schedule, I certainly wouldn't object!



Hell, even the ones who do bow and scrape end up getting the same treatment if it's convenient for him to do so. That's the thing with bullies; you can't trust them, and there's no way to make them happy.

Nice scenes of January taking stock of herself and her situation. It's not an easy situation for her--but she's strong enough to handle whatever comes her way. Also, you put in a lot of detail for the architecture, which is something I've noticed before. You seem to know a great deal about the subject.

Helping out with the rebuilding could be a good publicity move for the team. Definitely something worth looking into, in my opinion.

Wait... is this a Scooby-Doo crossover? Since I know Shaggy's first name is actually Norville, and that Matthew Lillard played him in the movie. I'm surprised I picked up on this, since I've only ever really watched Mystery Inc. Really curious to see how this turns out!

Renee: This is set in 2019, so consider who was the president at that time. I picked an exact quote of his from when he withheld Covid relief from Michigan. I only changed it slightly to add the transphobic comment about January as well. A Democractic governor and state are the last things he approves of, let alone a super team made up of trans, gay, Black, Asian, and First Nations people, and led by a woman.

The Shaggy guy and the dog know that she is Stormcrow, that is all.


Acadian: Last week and this week's episodes are a nice little respite from supering and magical studies. Great danes and all. Sorry to hear about your dignified gentleman. Dogs are wonderful friends.


WellTemperedClavier: I recall seeing a cartoon of that particular president that showed him standing on a rotating platform, while a new employee rolls in on a treadmill around him. It starts with him shaking their hand, and ends with him stabbing them in the back on their way out. Something his many press secretaries could attest to.

One of the advantages of using a real world setting is that I don't have to invent locations whole cloth. Instead I can just pick a place and describe what I see. Whenever I can I find articles about the buildings in question, that talk about their construction. Otherwise I have trouble telling one architectural style or material from another. I have learned a lot in the process though, and I keep a text file with just architectural terms, like cladding, row houses, etc...

The podcast Well There's Your Problem has helped me a lot too. They talk about engineering disasters, and sometimes those are about buildings. I take notes when they talk about various structural elements. It helps that the YouTube version of their show has slides, so you can see what they are talking about.

We will circle back to Belle Isle in the next book, when January and company do indeed take direct action to clean up the mess left behind from the battle. Renee will be pleased, as I am taking one of her suggestions about some people wanting to build condos there.

It's not really a crossover. It is more of an homage to Scoobs and Shaggy. That is why I changed Norville's last name to Lillard (and that is of course an homage to Matthew Lillard), and why the dog is named Scoops. I just wanted to feature an interaction between January and someone from the general public, and Scooby and Shaggy came to my mind for some reason which I honestly cannot comprehend. So I made my own lawsuit-safe version of them, and dropped them in for this one time appearance.

However, an actual Scooby/Crow crossover - a Crowsover if you will - would be a ton of fun. Especially if the Mystery Incorporated crew stuck to the old format of proving that the supposed supernatural activities that they encountered were just cynical frauds. They might be out there weeding out all the fakes. Then Jan and company could swoop in and handle the real wraiths and wights and liches.

When I was a children, I used to watch the original Scooby Doo show from the late 60s or so all the time, as it was always on in reruns. I have never really seen any of the newer content, except for one of the live action movies. Matt Lillard was perfect as Shaggy in that, and I have read he voices some of the newer animated incarnations. That man is a treasure. I loved him in 13 Ghosts. I am going to try and check out Mystery Incorporated now that you suggested it.


All: I am still not sure about sticking to once weekly or a biweekly format. The current book should run until the end of the year I think, and the one I am working on right now to probably this time next year. So its a big backlog. But at the same time, I don't want to make reading it a chore, because I do understand that we all have other things on our plates as well. I cannot keep up with all the fiction on this site as it is myself.

Oh, and I finally came up with a name for January's finishing move elbow drop: Ragnarok. Because when it drops, that's the end. It will make an appearance next Book.





Blackjack

This Machine Kills Fascists

Evan And Jaron - Crazy for This Girl - Inspiration for Crazy for this Crow



Book 11.11 - Raven Sisters

January's eyes set upon a familiar bearded face among a gaggle of new arrivals that streamed in from a nearby boarding ramp. His fair skin was smooth and unblemished, the only clue that he was only twenty - just six months older than January. Otherwise the beard made him look much older. A definite bonus when teenagers wanted to buy beer. A mess of brown hair threatened to fall across his soft hazel eyes at any moment, and an impish smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

His rotund frame was clad in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. It was a pair of clean jeans. January knew that meant he was dressing up, along with the shirt. Normally he wore ripped pants and band shirts. Slung over his shoulders was a worn out backpack, which competed for space with his scratched and dented guitar case.

January could not help but to smile as he came nearer. Along with the other Knights of Nerddom, she had known him since they were children. They had been friends since the First Grade in fact, when she had gotten old enough for her parents to let her go as far as the next block over to where he and Rus lived.

She reminded herself to be cautious. He knew her in her real life as January. She had to be careful not to slip up and fall into any of their private jokes. Like their nicknames for one another. She would have to keep a certain distance, emotionally if not physically.

She also remembered something Ryo had confided in her. "He has been thirsty for you since you transitioned," Ryo had accidentally declared. "He just never said so, because, you know, the whole lesbian thing. He said it would make things weird."

Well, it was still weird. January had to remind herself that it was not anyone's fault. Blackjack had as much right to be attracted to her as anyone else. Even if it was not something she had ever encouraged, let along imagined possible. Ryo had also admitted that Blackjack felt the same way about Stormcrow, so at least he was consistent.

She just hoped that his eye would wander somewhere else soon. Maybe she could set him up with Silverlight or Blackhawk?

Then his eyes fell upon January, and she saw them widen with recognition. For a moment January's heart stopped. He had seen right through her. Clearly, he knew it was her - January - under the winged helmet, body armor, and wings. All he had to do was blurt it out by accident, and in a moment the entire planet would know that her name was-.

"Stormcrow!" he exclaimed, loud enough for people to hear at least a hundred feet away. Everyone else in the terminal stopped to stare, at least the ones who had not already identified her and pulled out their phones. January noted more than one of those with lights on and recording already.

She fought back a sigh. Everyone had to record everything as it happened. Did life not exist before video? Still, at least he had not read her after all. Her identity was still safe. The cape did wonders for that. No one ever really imagined that one of their friends was a superhero. Just as she had never imagined that her own brother could have been a supervillain.

Still, she knew that just six months ago she would be doing the very same thing herself. If it wasn't on the 'gram, it didn't happen after all.

"Hi!" January tried really, really hard to rein in her perky phone voice. As usual, she failed. "I was hoping to meet you Mr. Schwartz."

"Mr. Schwartz?" the round man made a show of turning to look around himself. "Is my father standing behind me?"

"Call me Blackjack, all my friends do!" her childhood friend continued. He thrust out a hand for her to shake. But the moment she slipped her fingers against his own, he leaned in with exuberance and hugged her. Thankfully it was not a creepy hug. He pulled away in just a moment, and clapped his free hand on her shoulder. His face was one giant smile, and his eyes shone brighter than the sun in the sky outside.

January could not help but to smile again. Blackjack was like that. His mood was infectious. He made you want to laugh by force of personality alone.

"Sure thing Blackjack," she beamed.

"Do you know who this is?" Blackjack stepped back a moment to look around at the crowd that had begun to gather around them. "This is her, I mean her. Stormcrow herself! The First Ally. The Lady of Lightning. The Empress of the Elbow Drop. The Feeder of Ravens. The Duchess of Dope!"

January nodded and tried not to laugh as he strung along even more titles, each stretching credulity further than the last. He should have been the hype man for a wrestling federation.

But she had to eventually cut him off with a wave of her hands. This was not supposed to be about her after all. This was supposed to be about him.

"Don't let him fool you folks," now it was her turn to address the crowd. "This is Jacob - Blackjack - Schwartz from Epic Fail. He's a hometown hero, a real life rock star."

"I came here because I was hoping to get a selfie with you," January now looked Blackjack directly in the eye. When she spoke next, it was with absolute honesty. "I love your song. With everything that has been going on in life lately, it's been a ray of sunshine. Seriously, it made me happy. It made me laugh. It made me forget the rest of the world, even if just for a few minutes. You really helped me get through the last few weeks."

"Aww... well... I... um," the musician stammered, seemingly overwhelmed by the praise. Or perhaps from its source? January was keenly aware of how the armor, and wings, and everything, made her appear to be larger than life. She knew how ordinary that she was. But other people often did not.

"I saw you on the Helen show," January went on. "I heard you were on the Really, Really Late Show too. But I haven't had the chance to watch yet. I'm sure someone will post a clip online. Do you think you might do some work in Hollywood, in movies or TV? You really are great in front of a camera."

"You think so?" Blackjack looked wide-eyed at the continued praise.

"I know so," January insisted. "You are much better than I am! I should take lessons from you! Now how about that selfie?"

"Yeah, sure, I mean, I'd love to!" Blackjack nodded. He set down his guitar case at this feet, and fished into his pants for a smartphone. It was not a dirt cheap model like January owned, but nothing truly fancy either. The plastic case that ensconced it depicted the fictional space hero Jet Gladiator, and his pet dino-alien Boo Boo.

He fumbled over the screen, and soon enough opened up the camera app. January edged in close to him as he held the phone aloft, as far away as his arm could reach. Then he began snapping photos. He could not resist being himself, so he quickly began making funny faces, scrunching up his nose, squinting with one eye and bugging the other one out, etc... January could not help but to laugh, and found herself making the same ridiculous faces.

"How about a song?" a voice rang out from the gathering crowd asked.

"Yeah, play us Crazy For This Crow!" came another voice.

More people called on Blackjack to play. He nodded and put away his phone, then moved over to the lounge area. January and the rest of the crowd followed along of course. He popped open his guitar case to reveal an acoustic guitar that was as scratched and beat-up as the case itself was. Scrawled around the wooden body of it were the words: "This Machine Always Kills Fascists".

January smiled. Woody Guthrie would be proud.

Blackjack took a seat on one of the lounge chairs and took a few moments to adjust the strings. The awkwardness that the musician had shown before vanished entirely. Here he was in his element. When the guitar was tuned to his satisfaction he set off into his current, only, and greatest hit: Crazy For This Crow. Though January certainly hoped it would be the first of many.

"I look at her, but she looks through me,
What will it take for her to finally see?
While she goes on to take a stand,
I wonder if she'll understand?
I'm crazy for this crow!"

The lyrics spilled from his tongue like silver from a jeweler's forge. Well, maybe it was not quite so astounding. Perhaps his vocal and playing skills were merely adequate. But his enthusiasm, his passion, they burned like plasma erupting from the sun. January could not help but to smile, and she let the humorous but also empathetic song lift her spirits to those same stellar heights. On one hand it told a simple story of a star struck man, who somehow never managed to catch the eye of the superheroine he was infatuated with. On the other it was filled with enough humor that it did not feel creepy or stalker-like.

"I wish I was a girl,
so I could be her girl,
I'm crazy for this crow"

The audience sang along, nodded to the words and slapped their hands against their thighs in time with the music. Someone manned the piano, and began to play an accompaniment to Blackjack's otherwise lone guitar. It was over all too soon, and the audience called for more. So Blackjack obliged, and launched into one of his older Epic Fail songs, about a man seeing an alien while sitting on the toilet.

January realized that for once she was in public, in her super suit, and no one was paying attention to her. All eyes were riveted upon Blackjack. That made her grin even wider, if such a thing were possible.

She had come here simply because she knew that Blackjack had wanted to meet Stormcrow, and get her feedback on his song. This was far beyond anything she had expected, or could have even hoped for. Given all the phones held up in the air and recording, this had to at least make the local news. It might even go viral, just like his music video for the same song had done weeks ago. She hoped so, anything that could help the career of one of her friends along was a good thing.

There's Blackjack. I remember him. Been awhile. OKay yes, that's right, he had a crush on January. It's not so much awkward he feels hesitant because she's lesbian than they've been friends their whole life. Always weird when you know someone so well, in the sense that there's hardly any mystery. They know each other too well.

But.. that's how the guy feels. We can't always help what we feel.

Uh oh. He seems to recognize her as his friend. OOHHhh I get it. Nvm.



This is like when Tomal sent Daria that letter with all those titles on it!

She saw Blackjack on "Helen!" I love how SC is pretending not to know him. She's acting like a starstruck fan. 🤩 Heh, these are great lyrics, too.

His band's name is EPIC FAIL?? Spew!

Just like the previous episode’s Scooby encounter lifted Stormcrow’s spirits, so does her meeting with Blackjack. As a childhood friend and now fanboy of both Jan and Stormcrow, I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually does recognize her identity. If so, he is also probably savvy enough not to let the crow out of the bag.

Video footage of Blackjack and the famous Stormcrow on the evening news could certainly elevate the humorous musician’s name recognition and, hopefully, fame.

I'm familiar with the cartoon you mentioned, and yeah, it rings true.

Interesting! Unfortunately, I find it very difficult to listen to podcasts. It's not a content issue, it's more that I can't just sit there and listen to something. I have to be doing something. If I'm reading or watching a video, that keeps my eyes engaged so it feels like I'm active in some way (I'm not sure why listening with ears doesn't have this effect, but it doesn't). If I still had to commute to work, I could probably listen to a podcast on the way (since I'm driving and thus, doing something), but I work from home these days and it's rare that I have to drive more than 15 minutes at a time.

Ah, neat reference. So I have to level with you: for whatever reason, I actually saw very little Scooby-Doo as a kid, so it never made much of an impact on me one way or another. Some fans really like Mystery Inc, but others feel like it takes too many liberties with the source material, as well as being too snarky (though to me, it seemed more like a loving snark).

Anyway, on to the story.

I liked the character work here. I could really feel January's trepidation regarding Black Jack. I know what it's like to have someone interested in me when I don't return the feeling, and it's never a fun. Happily, this turns into a good moment. Black Jack's keeping things under control and decent, and the song is incredibly validating for January.

Though I agree with Renee: friends and family members might be able to pick up certain tells that a stranger wouldn't. If Jack knows or suspects that January and Stormcrow are the same, however, he's wise enough to keep that to himself.

Also liked the bit about January stressing about media attention. I can really sympathize with Blood Raven's stance on this sort of thing. If I were a superhero, I'd probably try to stay on the downlow and avoid media attention. But doing so would limit my influence, and January's own rise shows how important that sort of thing is these days.

All: Let's try this for a test, and see how it works out with releasing a post on Saturday that people have the weekend to read, and then one on Tuesday, that we have the rest of the week to get to. If it does not work, I'll go back to just Saturdays alone.


Renee: Yep, Blackjack has the crush on January, and on Stormcrow. He's consistent. Its messy, but that is life.

I took the lyrics to the real song Crazy For This Girl, and just changed them around some to get Blackjack's.

I had to workshop the name for Blackjack's band for a while. Eventually I settled on all the "epic fail" videos I was seeing floating around everywhere at that time, and decided that would be a good name for a comical music group.


Acadian: Right now I have been thinking that Blackjack did not recognize January. Just like January never imagined that her own brother was a supervillain, it's a big step to take to think that.

Blackjack will get some extra popularity thanks to this impromptu show and Crowppearance. Every little bit helps.


WellTemperedClavier: Before I started listening to podcasts, I thought I would be the same way as you describe. Now I listen to them constantly. I find that they are excellent for filling up the empty hours of the day. When I am making dinner, doing laundry, cleaning house, washing dishes, going shopping, driving in the car, waiting for an appointment, just doing repetitive tasks at work, etc... I even have a bluetooth speaker that I use to listen to while I take a bath.

Well There's Your Problem does have their episodes on YouTube. They have slides that usually show what they are talking about. So you can watch it on TV. That is how I normally do that one.

January is a Gen Z'r. She grew up always having the internet in her back pocket, always being connected and online. The media is an integral part of her life. In that time she has seen how easily it can be used to harm, and how powerful it can be to help people. So rather than butt her head against it in frustration, she is determined to make use of it, just as she would use a strong wind to help her fly.

Not that it is easy. Princess Diana is one of the people January is modeled after, especially when it comes to public events. She did not like them. She found them very stressful. But it was part of her job to be out there for events and press the flesh, so she gave them her all. Even if she was completely drained by the time she got home later that night. January is the same way. She'd rather fight a giant spider again than do another TV interview. But she has to, because she realizes how important using the media is to shape public perception.






As always, the Big Tire can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map

The Big Tire

The Big Tire Pic 01

The Big Tire Pic 02



Book 11.12 - Raven Sisters

Sága lit up, even as a familiar tone rang out through the ear pieces built into her winged helmet. January stepped through the crowd, trying to get out into the open, where it was quieter. At the same time she tapped the screen of her digital assistant, and saw that it was a team-wide alert. This was bad. Cray would not be sending one of those unless it was important.

Blackjack stopped playing, and all eyes turned to January. She was only vaguely aware of them however, as Cray's voice spoke in her ear.

"We've got some sort or meta disturbance in Allen Park. It's near I-94 and Southfield."

"I'm on it!" January crowed. "I'm at the airport right now. I'll be there in just a minute."

It wasn't an Abyssal summoning. That came as a stark relief. She was close enough that she would have felt it, even without the aid of the early warning network of poppets. She made a mental reminder to gather up the last of those from their hiding places across the state. Each had a direct link to both her and Blood Raven's auras. They were not the kind of things one wanted left laying around for too long.

She took a moment to wave to Blackjack and the others. Then she leaped high into the air and spread her wings. Above the heads of the crowd, she flew down the side passage to the main entrance of the terminal. There she was forced to land to pass through the glass doors of the building.

Beyond she found herself standing in a sort of tunnel created by the concrete and steel roof that ran over the five-laned roadway that ran directly across her path. She leaped skyward once more, and soared between the cars and trucks below, and the ceiling above. Thankfully the space between was two stories tall, leaving her plenty of room to flap her wings without striking anything above or below.

She turned up sharply the moment she cleared this ceiling. She had to, in order to avoid the concrete parking structure that rose high up into the air directly in front of her. She went completely vertical in the space between the two here, and rose straight up into the blue sky. The parking structure was just a few feet from her wingtips on one side, and the concrete roof to the other.

She rocketed up, and found that the ceiling on her left was actually an elevated roadway: a new street on top of the other street that she had just flown across. This too ran alongside the terminal, which had another set of entrances beside it. A curled awning stretched out from the long building to provide shade and protection from rain along the side of the road. To her other side the parking structure rose taller still. January had to fly several stories higher before she was truly out in the open, with nothing but blue skies all around.

Her heart soared, as it always did when she slipped free of the bonds of gravity and took to the air. Her new Blackwood-created helmet did not possess a quest-marker or heads up display, as Gadget's own powered armor did. But she did not need one. Interstate 94 was right there beside the airport. She turned her back to the many landing strips and taxiways of the airport, and instead set her face to the freeway.

She winged her way north, and reached the highway in just moments. Suburbia stretched out all around her. To one side was an area of light industrial buildings. To others lay wide swaths of suburban homes. A pair of small lakes, or perhaps large ponds, even lay flanked by open fields. This reminded her that while she was still technically in the metro area, this was definitely on the fringe where city turned to country.

January recognized Eloise a few miles to the north. She had fought Gola there just two months before. She could not make out much of the abandoned psychiatric hospital in the distance. But she did think she spied out construction equipment. So perhaps the man she had met there who had bought the place was indeed tearing it down, in order to build a haunted hotel of all things.

Still, she did not have time to let her mind wander. She had to focus on the here and now. That meant getting to the scene of the latest crime as soon as possible. To do so she now allowed her wings to fuse into her arms. That always gave her more power. Now that she was out in the open, she turned that power up to eleven. It was still morning, so she oriented herself toward the sun, and followed the divided highway to east. In just moments she found what she was looking for.

The interchange between I-94 and Southfield Road was a tangled mess of spaghetti masquerading as pavement. The highway curved to her left as it passed through the intersection, only to take an even sharper bend to the north afterward. Southfield was even more crooked. It reminded January of a boomerang, as it first curved one way as it ran under I-94, and then doubled back immediately afterward. A confusing tangle of on and off ramps stretched between the two and the other nearby surface streets, as if they had been spun by a spider on ayahuasca.

Adding to the confusion was a train track that ran parallel to I-94, at least before the highway passed the interchange and curved away to the north. This created a narrow pie-wedge of land between the two transportation arteries. At the base of this triangle of land rose up a billboard encouraging January to "Go Fae or Go Home", along with a depiction of a giant green bottle of Fae Cola.

Beyond this was a muddy pond or bog of turbid brown water. The ground soon turned to solid earth and grass however. Among the trees that rose up here was a small power substation situated beside the railroad tracks. The fenced in area consisted of a pair of electrical transformers and a couple of metal shacks, and looked completely deserted.

Across the wedge-shaped open space from this was a large foundation of gray cement. Rising from it was the biggest tire in the world. It stood eighty feet tall, and was set into a rectangular building at its base. That reminded January of the wheel chocks that held airplanes in place. The tire itself looked like, well, a tire. Its tread was black as a normal tire's, and the white sidewall lettering spelled out the name and website address of its owner: Royal One. A white plastic hubcap took up the center of the tire, with an upraised design that looked like a gear with diagonal teeth.

I-94 itself was a divided highway, with a wide patch of grass between each four-laned roadway. Occasionally rising from the long, serpentine island in the center of the road were tall metal pylons that sprouted streetlights. A thin, but steady trickle of cars and trucks ran along each side of the bifurcated expressway. The low roar of their tires rose up to January's ears from here, along with the rumble of their engines.

Standing within the middle of the eastbound side of the highway was a tall figure that immediately caught January's attention. It was hard to gauge its true size, for while it was bulky, it seemed hunched over. It was covered in brown fur, and wore some form of medieval armor plates of the same color. The metal covered its inhumanely wide upper chest and shoulders, left its impossibly narrow waist free, only to once again wrap around its thighs in numerous bands of the strange metal.

The creature held a massive flail in one of its taloned paws. As January watched, it swung this out in a great blow. This sent the three heads chained to its handle scything through the air. Each of these heads was formed into like a long, fat cylinder, whose outer edges bristled with spikes.

In some ways it reminded January of the classic Egyptian Pharaoh's flail. Except that was an object of exquisite craftsmanship; a thing of beauty meant to be admired. There was nothing elegant or delicate about this however. It appeared to be made of rough, black iron, and was cast into thick rods that bristled with wicked spikes. It was as if someone had taken a work of art, and corrupted it into one of brutal destruction.

A moment later these spiked heads smashed into the side of a semi-truck. They not only tore out long gouges down the length of its cab, but they also lifted that side of the big rig into the air. The massive vehicle reeled over on nine of its eighteen wheels, threatening to go crashing completely over onto its side at any moment.

Two cars were in the lane right beside it, directly in the path of the truck's impending fall. The one in front gunned its engine to try to outrun the careening truck. The one behind locked up its brakes and swerved toward the grassy island in the center of the divided highway. Horns blared, rubber squealed, and above it all January's heart roared like thunder in her ears.

She called upon Air to give her greater speed, and darted straight down for the semi. Right before her face could plant into the pavement below, she feathered back her wings, and pulled up sharply. Her face and chest smacked into the side of the truck's cab an instant later. Her feet scraped along the concrete underneath, before finally digging in hard and gouging out long furrows through the pavement.

Her arms were still attached to her wings. She stretched them to flatten against the side of the cab. That gave her more purchase against the tons of weight that pushed down upon her. It also pressed one of her wing's directly against the exhaust pipe that rose up vertically just behind the door. It was burning hot. Stick your hand in the oven without a mitt and accidentally grab a cookie pan hot. But January simply gritted her teeth and bore the pain. It was nothing compared to having molten lava spit upon you by a salamander after all.

The tilt slowed, and finally stopped as the massive vehicle began to reduce its speed. Just inches to her right was the fender of the car that had attempted to swerve away. While only a few feet to the other side was the rear bumper of the first car, which still tried to gun its way out of the path of destruction.

Through the side window of the truck she saw the bearded face of the driver staring at her in horror. Then he jerked his steering wheel over hard. The front tire that was still touching the ground seemed to catch something, and suddenly the entire semi heeled over to the right. All eighteen of its wheels crashed hard to the ground, and January heard explosions as some of them burst under the impact.

January hung on to the truck until it finally came to a halt in the middle of the highway. The two cars that had been in danger now sped past, out of the way. So too did a pickup truck that she had not even seen. She heard horns blaring all along the road behind her, and the screeching of tires furiously braking against the concrete.

January took a deep breath, and opened the door of the truck. The driver practically spilled out. He was a wide-bellied man with a gray beard and a weathered Tiger's hat. She took a moment to make sure he was unharmed. But while his eyes were wild, so far as she could tell he had no real injuries, even if he had been practically scared to death.

January could relate. Her heart ran faster than Usain Bolt in the hundred meter dash. She took another deep breath and centered herself. She felt the mana flowing cool and sweet within her, and allowed it to suffuse her body with power. Her elemental mantra ran through her head, and she focused her thoughts on her energy.

Earth give me strength, keep me grounded, protect me from harm.

Air give me quickness in body and wit. Let the weights of the world fall from me.

Water make me flexible in thought and form. Let me flow, let me crash.

Fire give me passion and energy. Transform me in the night sky.

Spirit weave all together in balance. Bring me peace.

"Go Fae or Go Home", along with a depiction of a giant green bottle of Fae Cola.’
- - This conjured an image of Wednesday Adams asking, “Is it made with real fae?”

Wow, what kind of monster is this who seems interested in some interstate bowling for cars and trucks? “Saga, what’s the beastiary say about this thing?”

A wonderful in-the-nick-of-time save of numerous lives no doubt. Superman makes such things look easy but in Stormcrow’s world things are grittier, with heel marks in the concrete and smokin’ hot diesel exhaust stacks.

I can't really listen to podcasts while I work or write, since that makes it too hard for me to pay attention. Multi-tasking has always been pretty difficult for me. Might be related to my ADHD.

But thanks for letting me know that one's on YT!

I've actually gotten more distrustful of tech as I've gotten older (and I'm an old Millennial); seen too many promises of how it would make things better go unfulfilled or otherwise awry (sometimes deliberately). But, like it or not, it's here. And younger people who are more immersed in it are the ones best positioned to get something beneficial from it.

Can definitely see the Diana resemblance.

Okay, so things are ramping up again. A hero's work is never done. Also, good thinking on the poppets.

Also, I like your descriptions of how complicated interchanges can look.

Huh, this is certainly an imposing creature. But not an Abyssal. Curious what's behind this.

Oof, sounds of collision definitely spark a pretty deep-seated reaction. And whatever this creature is, it packs a punch.

All right, that could have gone much worse. At least now the field's clear for January to take on this monster.

Acadian: I can absolutely see Wednesday Addams making that remark in the Crowverse! It was probably in one of the 90s Addam's Family movies, instead of the Girl Scout cookie remark.

This beastie definitely does not appreciate cars and trucks. Maybe he is a train nerd, like Decrepit? I did want to add some spice to January's save of the truck, rather than have it be as easy as Superman makes it look. She has to work harder than he does, and she suffers for it. That's one of the things that defines her. She's ready to sacrifice for others.


WellTemperedClavier: I don't listen to podcasts while writing either, or while doing anything that requires me to think. I only listen to them at times where I have nothing to really think about at all, and my mind gets bored. They help me fill up those empty parts of the day, and keep me engaged with something - anything - when I would otherwise be bored. But enough on all that!

I am not a big tech supporter myself, in spite of having worked in the tech industry for the last two decades. I remember when Twitter first came out. An online friend of mine told me about it, and explained how you could just say anything, like what you had for breakfast, and it would go out to everyone in your friends list. All I could think was how inane and moronic that was. The last thing I want to hear is other people prattle on about nothing. I just don't care. Sadly, that is perhaps the best use of social media, at least the least harmful.

Interchanges really can get crazy, especially when you look at them from the air. I don't know how they design those things. Maybe by dropping LSD and fingerpainting...

We will meet the creature up close today, and it really does pack a punch! It is actually one we have met before, in a manner of speaking.







The Michigan Dogman

The Big Tire Interior



Book 11.13 - Raven Sisters

But the creature that had caused this was still out there. She called upon Air once more, and used it to propel her up over the cab of the semi truck. She tucked into a forward somersault and rolled across the roof. A moment later she landed upon her feet on the other side of the vehicle. Her arms separated from her wings, and she raised her fists in a fighting stance.

The monster was just a few feet away, and closing in fast. Even with his dog-like head hunched down, he must have reached at least seven feet in height. His upper torso bristled with muscles beneath his thick mat of brown fur and armor plate. His arms were long and spindly, as were his taloned fingers. His legs were double-jointed, like those of a dog, and dark nails sprouted from his bared paws.

He was a hybrid of human and canine. It would have seemed strange to January, but she had seen this monster before, just a few days ago in fact. He had been one of the Hierophant's minions, that had gathered about her in the summoning circle. In fact, she had seen this very creature meet his untimely end at the hands of his own master.

The Hierophant curled a lip at the cryptid, and gestured a finger in the canid-monster's direction. A moment later a series of boils or bubbles began to appear all across the Dogman's hide. He staggered and fell to one knee. The flail that he carried clattered to the marble floor. After just a few more moments he writhed in agony, and his howls rang off the walls all around.

Then one of the boils burst open. Out crawled an army of beetles. Their legs clashed together in an unwholesome racket. Their mandibles flashed and bit, devouring all in their path. Another of the bubbles popped open, and another, loosing even more of the tiny creatures. In no time at all the Dogman was completely wreathed in the giant insects. He writhed and squirmed. But no matter how many he swatted with his claws, or bit with his teeth, hundreds more sprang from his flesh.

In no time at all the cryptid collapsed to the floor and fell still. There was nothing left but a writhing mass of beetles. With one small gesture of the Hierophant's finger, they skittered away in all directions. They poured past the assembled monsters, and in moments vanished into the darkened corners of the room. In just seconds they were completely gone. The only sign they or the Dogman had ever existed were a few bloody tufts of fur left upon the marble floor, and that giant flail he had carried, now awash with his own gore.

"Now, would anyone else like to renegotiate their contracts?" the Hierophant's voice still rang in January's head.

"The Michigan Dogman?" January gaped as the creature advanced.

The canine came to a halt directly in front of her. He lowered his flail, and for a moment his eyes seemed to comprehend her words. He looked around himself, and his mouth opened and closed, as if to form words. But nothing more than growls issued from the dog-like maw.

"But you're dead." January breathed. For some reason she felt herself transfixed by the sight of the creature. She still heard the sound of the Hierophant's voice in her head. But now that voice transformed into high-pitched screams.

The Hierophant's body was thrown to the ground, as if by some giant, invisible hand. Then that unseen force dragged him from his circle, and down the channel of runes toward the larger summoning circle at the center of the ritual. The wizard tried to escape. His fingers dug fruitlessly at the marble floor, and his feet kicked impotently against its smooth surface.

While he still had feet at least. Now his lower body stretched out to impossible lengths. Bones tore from their sockets, and flesh was ripped into long ribbons. Blood sprayed everywhere. The high-pitched scream echoed from his throat through it all. At least until that too became a welter of blood.

January stood frozen in horror, as she relived that terrible moment. She could not tell if it was a memory, or if she was there once more, experiencing it all again. It all felt so real. She could hear the screams. She could feel the cold marble floor beneath her. She could smell the blood in her nostrils, and taste it in the air.

The Dogman was not idle. The muscles around his eyes tightened, causing them to narrow into a malevolent stare. Fire seemed to rise up from within those eyes, a towering rage that would burn the world to the ground, if but given the opportunity. It was a palpable thing to January's magical senses. She could swear that she felt that furious power rise up within the creature, and from the weapon he carried.

He lashed out with a backhanded blow. January knew that she should be dodging, and slip out of the way of the oncoming flail-heads. She knew that she should be raising her forearms to block, or her wings to cover herself. She knew all of these things. But the screams of the Hierophant were still loud in her ears, and her body was rooted to the spot.

At least until those pointed rods slammed home into the side of her face. One of the decorative wings on the side of her helmet was sheared in two, and January saw its pieces skitter away across her eyes. Then pain bloomed in hot, fiery lances that stabbed through her skull at the impact. She tasted blood in her mouth, like coppery salt. The world spun, and she felt herself lifted up into the air and thrown across the breadth of the highway.

The black skin of the Big Tire rose up in front of her. Before she could use her wings to slow herself, or even regain her balance, she slammed into its face. She discovered that the body of the tire was not made of rubber when she crashed straight through it. Rather it appeared to be a shell made of numerous sections of black fiberglass, each half a foot thick. The one she had hit shattered into numerous jagged pieces both large and small as she finally came to a halt within the roadside attraction.

The interior of the tire was hollow. Down at ground level there was a large, mostly open space. A series of vertical and diagonal steel beams rose up from the concrete foundation to support the structure above. Just above January's head a set of I-beams fanned out horizontally to create the base of this structure. From that sprouted a forest of beams that crisscrossed in every direction.

At first it looked like a chaos of steel spaghetti. But soon January noted a method to it all. It reminded her of a Ferris wheel, with an outer cladding added on that made it look like a tire from the exterior. Here inside however, she could see how it was made of pie-shaped sections all welded together, and radiating out from a central core like spokes in a wheel. She could even imagine where the individual carriages would have been hung along the outer rim, had it been a Ferris wheel. She also noted a metal ladder that rose up to the top of the structure, and thought she saw a trap door in the ceiling there that must have led to the roof.

"Stormcrow! Are you ok?" Cray's voice rang through January's ears.

"I'm fine," she murmured. She rubbed her jaw with one hand. It was still in one piece. She spat red liquid. Now the wound-dew that she smelled and tasted was not just in her mind. It was her own. The sight of it turned her blood from ice to fire. Her lips contorted into a snarl, and she held her bloody hand out to the oncoming Dogman. She curled her fingers inward, beckoning him forward.

"Valhalla waits," she growled. Thunder crashed loudly overhead, and the sky outside briefly flashed as lightning skittered across the firmament.

The hulking canid charged through the hole that January had made. His head nearly brushed against the steel beams that crossed the interior of the tire above. That flail lashed out at January once more. She became Water, and flowed around it. The three heads of the flail sliced through a steel beam behind January, easily hacking it into numerous pieces.

Her reply was a spinning kick that crashed against the side of the monster's head. Its skull jerked to one side, and more blood splattered across the concrete and steel. January came down on both feet and crowded in close. That put her too near for the Dogman to strike with his flail. She took a page from Roberto Duran's book, and unleashed a swarm of blows into the creature's stomach.

He came back at her with a head butt, then with a knee lift. She was ready for each, and weathered the blows without a scratch. It would take more than that to do her in. She had been beaten up by the best of them after all. Then he got smarter and hopped backward. January pursued, but not quickly enough. He had opened up enough space to deliver a crushing push kick square into her chest.

She barely felt it. But the blow did send her flying backward once more. She sent her wings out and down out of reflex. She felt their lower tips dig into the concrete floor a moment later, slowing her retrograde motion. It was enough to keep her from sailing through the wall of the tire. But it was not enough to prevent her from snapping another one of those vertical support beams in two when her back plowed straight through it.

She heard the steel and fiberglass structure groan ominously overhead. That could not be good. Now she wished that the monster had thrown her outside of the attraction.

Uh oh. Back to work, it seems. Come on now, can't a girl enjoy one moment with a friend she hasn't seen in a while?

And she's off! -------- (I imagine this to be a huge CGI moment on the CW, just before the show cuts to a Tremfya commercial... ).

Is Fae Cola real? Or is it another clever way to avoid stating actual real-world product names, lest The Stormcrow be faced with litigation? Hmm. A Google search brings up Fake Cola. 🥤

Oh gosh.... what is this creature? Sigh. Can't these monsters and minions ever learn? Not to mess with Michigan? Earth give me strength, indeed.

Lol "Michigan Dogman?" Whoa, there's a Wiki article about it. "The first alleged encounter of the Michigan Dogman occurred in 1887 in Wexford County, when two lumberjacks saw a creature which they described as having a man's body and a dog's head.[2]" HOly cripes...

Still, Stormcrow has certainly faced worse adversaries, right? This Dogman seems nowhere near as tough to defeat, compared to those who have actually challenged Miss Crow in the past. I assume so, anyway.

An untimely flashback of the Dogman’s first demise at the hands of Higherpants. This leaves Stormcrow distracted enough to take the full force of Dogman’s next hit. Ouch!

I’m not sure if being inside the tire favors Stormcrow or her foe. She’s wise to get in close and counter the range required by his flail though. Time to get outta that tire now though.

Hey Cray! Put out a summon Lighthammer call!

I’m curious to find out if this is the same Dogman – returned to life somehow or perhaps a different one altogether.

I also used to work in the tech sector (Internet marketing, so maybe more peripheral to tech but still closely connected), and I reacted pretty much the same way. It also worries me just how centralized these platforms are. Hopefully Musk's ineptitude with Twitter will remind people how dangerous that sort of thing can be.

I'm really, really glad I don't work in that field any longer.

Okay, intense fight here! The dogman did make me think of the Hierophant's minions. Though I'm still curious as to why it's here. Did it somehow survive? Was there another? Are malign entities still filtering into the mortal realm? But I suppose those are questions for later. This is clearly a dangerous opponent, and right now it needs to be neutralized.

Also, it was a cool scene to have January bust through the tire like that, even if it wasn't intentional on her part. Definitely an example of local flavor becoming a part of the scene.

Renee: That action scene would be a huge CGI moment, as Jan navigates all the perils of flying in tight spaces, and then gets out into the open, where the city sprawls out before her.

I based Fae Cola, or FaeCo, on RL Faygo, which is made in Michigan. It's a favorite of the Insane Clown Posse's fans, the Juggalos. The Crowverse has their own version of both, the Mad Fae Corps and the Faegallos. They wear fake elf ears and face paint.

The Michigan Dogman is a RL cryptid from Michigan. When I filled out the ranks of the Hierophant's minions at Belle Isle, I tried to get as many RL cryptids like him, such as the Paulding Light and the Waheela, not to mention Gola, who is a Raven Mocker. There is even a song about it that was made in the 80s, and its pretty good.


Acadian: January's PTSD has caught her flat-footed, and she paid for it. The Dogman can really hit. January is also coming to realize that maybe fighting him inside the local attraction is not such a great idea. But now that she is in there with him, it might not be so easy to get out.

The Allies are indeed on the way. Keep your eyes peeled for reinforcements.


WellTemperedClavier: Who is the Dogman? is indeed the question of the hour. Eventually we will get to the bottom of it. But not for a while yet.

Blood Raven did intimate a long while back that the Hierophant's activities were likely to awaken slumbering magical creatures. Gola was one example. She had been lurking in the abandoned asylum for decades, not really doing anything but hibernating. Until the Summoner came and woke her up to recruit her. Then the haunted tour came along...

One of the nice things about using the real world as my setting is that I can make use of unique locations like the Big Tire to set events at. I probably would never make up a place like that on my own, given how unusual it is.






Book 11.14 - Raven Sisters

"Stormcrow, see if you can move this somewhere else," Cray's voice echoed her own thoughts exactly. "That muddy stretch of land between the highway and railroad tracks might be ideal."

January circled toward the same opening she had made coming into the roadside attraction. But the Dogman moved to intercept her, like a boxer cutting off the ring. He unleashed a new set of strikes with his flail. January dared not dodge them, lest he do even more damage to the tire's structural supports. So she became Earth, and grounded herself in place.

She was stone. She was the mountain. She was adamant.

While clearly magical, even the enchantments upon his weapon could not overcome this, January's most potent defense. Gadget liked to describe her as a tank, first and foremost. He was right. The whole reason she had learned to fight was so that she could defend herself from bullies. That remained her reason for fighting to this day, only now she defended others as well.

Drawing upon the Earth as she now did, she became that mountain that she visualized. She was harder than stone, harder than steel. She was inviolable: adamantine. The Abyss had not broken her. Neither would this Dogman. Whether he was risen from the grave - or an entirely new creature - this canid monster would not be the end of her.

The tire gave another loud groan overhead. That turned to a scream, as tortured metal gave way, and began to sag toward the ground. January lowered her defenses, and leaped beneath the nearest of the two damaged support beams. She put her body in the empty space where its center section had been torn away. She raised her hands, and grabbed hold of what remained of the beam overhead.

The structure pressed down upon her with tons upon tons of weight. She pushed back, pulling up the last reserves of both her strength and mana to arrest the fall. Eighty feet of steel and fiberglass fought against her. Sweat beaded her face, and it felt like her muscles were popping from the effort. But she held on.

The Dogman saw this, and let loose a triumphant roar. His eyes burned hot, and he closed in for the kill. He raised his flail once more, in a blow that January was sure would take off her head. But she did not flinch. She did not waver. She could not let this thing fall.

The Big Tire might only flop over and fall on its side. Or it might just collapse straight down on top of her and the monster. It was not a real tire. So January did not think it could roll. But on the other hand it did look a lot like a Ferris wheel from the inside. So there was no telling if it could indeed trundle along for some distance before finally crashing to earth. The freeway was right outside, and if January knew people, then she imagined they were already clustering nearby to get pictures and videos. She could not take the chance of any of them getting crushed under this mountain of steel and fiberglass.

Besides, she was not going to let this monster destroy one of the only landmarks her city had, even if it was just some soulless corporation's giant advertisement.

The Dogman did not see the dark, nearly insubstantial shapes that faded through the wall behind it, but January did. Once free of the fiberglass cladding that pretended to be the tire's rubber surface these forms solidified. Now that the light was able to find purchase upon them, they resolved themselves into two men.

Gadget stood tall in his suit of powered armor, made of blue and white painted nanotwinned cubic boron nitride plates layered over a base of black hagfish fibers. An audible hum followed him into the room, and a soft blue glow rose from the powered armor. He raised an open hand, and a bolt of brilliant plasma erupted from his palm. It slammed into the Dogman, and sent him careening away.

Beside him was Ôkami. The Japanese-American was clad in his own suit. This was made in the style of a samurai's armor. It was made up of a gray dragon silk bodysuit, with cubic born nitride strips above that were painted black and white. A Japanese-styled helmet with a wolf crest covered his head and mouth, leaving only the strip around his eyes bare. His katana was already in his hand, and January heard a wolf howl from its blade.

"Gadget, get on the other broken beam," Cray's voice barked across the team-wide frequency. "Ôkami, take care of that mangy mutt."

Gadget immediately darted to the first support beam to have been damaged. This was the one that the Dogman's flail had sliced through in multiple places. He clapped his hands down upon the steel. Blue light and a wave of heat rolled off of them, as he began to weld the beam back together with plasma.

"Ei!" Ôkami shouted as he leaped upon the Dogman. The magical cryptid rose to his feet and counter charged, bringing his flail around in a horizontal slash. Ôkami brought up Chujitsu. The chains of the flail wrapped around the katana's slender blade of meteoric steel. The pattern-welded blade had been forged by Blood Raven herself. Its dark steel bent, but did not break under the assault. Indeed, the bright silvery waves along its sharpened edge glinted in the light, even as the samurai faded to black.

While his sword remained physical, and thusly trapped the weapon of his opponent, the rest of Ôkami faded. He twisted and turned through the air, and faded right through the arm that the Dogman threw up to block his attack. A moment later his entirely solid boot connected with the monster's face.

The creature snapped back, and went sailing head over heels. Ôkami allowed his sword to fade now, freeing the flail from locking up with it. The Dogman hit the concrete hard, but after just a moment he began to slowly rise to his feet once more. Clearly, there was plenty of grit beneath that fur and fury.

"This isn't working," Gadget hissed through clenched teeth. "There are too many pieces missing. I need more steel."

The eighty foot structure groaned overhead, as if to emphasize his words. It began to sway toward the highway, and it was all that January and Gadget could do to pull it back onto an even keel.

"There's a lamp post outside that looks long enough, and then some," Cray noted in their ears. As ever, his voice was as calm as a motionless sea.

Ôkami glanced from the rising Dogman to the fiberglass wall that separated the interior of the roadside attraction from the outside world, and the lamp post in question. Clearly, he was calculating the odds of Gadget and January surviving if he left.

"Go! We'll hold on here." January grunted through gritted teeth. Then she lowered her voice, so no others could hear. "We'll have to..."

With that Ôkami faded like a ninja, becoming nothing but a shadow against the wall. Then not even a shadow. He was just gone. That left them alone with the Dogman.

The cryptid now pulled himself back to his feet. He stared after where Ôkami had disappeared. Then he turned his gaze back to January and Gadget. He raised his free hand to briefly cradle his forehead, where the high-tech samurai/ninja had just struck him. His fingers came away stained red.

But this did not drive him deeper into a rage. Instead the head wound seemed to have done the opposite, and shaken something loose. That blaze of rage that had lit the monster's eyes just moments before simmered to a low burn. Those eyes widened, and he looked wildly about, as if waking from a nightmare.

He growled, and after a few moments those canine ululations turned to human speech. At least the guttural sounds were close enough for January to discern the words.

"I didn't do this..." he gasped. "It wasn't me! It wasn't me!"

Ôkami came fading through the wall once more. Now he had several tall pillars of steel with him. Painted black, their top and bottom edges had been cut through with clean, horizontal strokes. He glanced at the Dogman for a moment. Then seeing that the cryptid was not moving, the Japanese-American man moved to Gadget.

Ôkami pressed one of the steel rods against the broken vertical beam. Gadget immediately set to welding the both steel beams together into a single support. All the while January stared at the Dogman, who continued to vacillate.

"Just slow down and breathe," she finally was able to force the words from her throat. She wanted to plant her fist into that creature's face. But she restrained herself. The entire structure would collapse if she stepped away for one. For two, she was wise enough to know that not all problems could be fixed through a judicious application of knuckles. No matter how much she might wish otherwise at times.

"Tell us what you remember," January continued. "We're not your enemies. No one here is."

The Dogman shook his head.

"No, this can't be happening," he cried.

With that he wheeled around, flail still firmly clutched in one meaty paw. With a burst of leg power, he bolted from the room, and vanished into the world outside.

January and the others could not follow of course. Not without the whole tire collapsing. She shook her head. Whether by intent or accident, it was the oldest supervillain ploy in the book. Endanger civilians by damaging a building or some other structure. That forced the heroes to divert their attention to that new disaster, allowing the villain to escape. It was frustrating to stand by while it played out, but January never once hesitated to follow through with her part of the nearly scripted dance.

They were white hats after all. This was the difference between them and the bad guys.

* * *

Cray does a masterful job throughout as the battlefield coordinator. I’m pretty sure, he conjured Gadget and Okami as well. Good choices since Cray couldn’t count on Stormcrow relocating the battle to the outside.

Ahah, so the dogman has been somehow encorcelled – more to follow on that I hope.

I liked Stormcrow’s reflection that she willingly fell into the villain’s escape ploy of endangering civilians to distract the white hat(s). I remember how the same ploy worked on her flawlessly during her first encounter with Lighthammer. And the next time a baddie tries it, the ploy will work again – that is who our Stormcrow is.

We can now add Epic Tire Savior to Stormcrow's creds.


Nit: ’January dared not doge them,’ - - Unless you are using a creative spelling during this fight with the Dogman, I’d respell doge.

Ah, that's the tricky part about arcane creatures; sometimes they stick around even when you'd rather they not.

Though this Dogman seems to have a story of some sort. Clearly he's distraught at being here, but it's not at all certain as to why. Wonder if that's going to tie into any contingencies left by the Hierophant. Or if maybe, the Dogman actually has some level of personality/willpower of their own.

The fight also shows how useful it is to have a team. Even January was having some trouble keeping the tire stable while also fighting off the attacks. Sometimes you just need another person (or two, or three).

If I may...? It doesn't seem as though Dogman is related to Natthrafn's underworld. I'm guessing that since Dogman is a part of local Michigan lore, he has to be included into the story. It'd be like if I wrote a modern story centered in Maryland, "Chessie" would have to be written in at some point. Or the Blair Witch.

Insane Clowns are from Michigan? Along with Eminem and (I think) Kid Rock. And Motown, of course.

Jan is titanium, she is steel. One thing she is not is carbon fiber. Take that, Stockton Rush.

Ha, she will NOT allow one of her local landmarks to be destroyed! That's great. Whoa.... Gadget is here??

Okami casts his Chameleon spell. Yea, this Dogman's days are doomed.

Whoa, teh Dogman bleeds red, suggesting it's got biological ties to other species of fauna here on Earth. 🐶 He also speaks!

He also seems to be a trickster. Get the supers out here, and flee. No! BAD dog!!!! Seriously, though. Seems this doggie's got some sort of elaborate agenda. Guess we'll find out.

Acadian: As we will learn, Cray summoned the whole team. It was just over before the others could arrive, as we learn today.

Lots more Dogman in the future, he's the main antagonist of this book.

January will never stop falling for that trick. At least I hope she won't, because that will mean people dying just so she can 'win'. I wanted to point that out, because it really is a litmus test for who is a hero, and who is just a thug with pretensions of grandeur.

You might say that January is getting tired of this...


WellTemperedClavier: The Dogman has a whole back story. We will eventually get to it, as the hunt for him begins. In between January's own personal life of course. Because she does not stop living between suping.

You are right, in that this really was a great example of the benefits of a team. I originally structured this encounter to make the Dogman a serious threat to the team, without him being individually too powerful. He's not a Dark Lord of the Abyss level of threat. So by him causing a danger to the tire, and a potential threat to those outside, I was able to create a situation that would take multiple team members to solve. It is something I learned watching the Supergirl show on the CW. More than once SG and her pals were put in similar situations where they had to do engineering surgery to prevent a skyscraper from falling down, while the villain who caused the damage got away.


Renee: You are correct in that the Dogman is not an Abyssal. He's a local Michigan cryptid/folkloric entity. Since this is the first episode following the big Season One finale, I wanted to have sort of an epilogue tied to the Battle of Belle Isle, to show January and company still tying up loose ends from it. I also wanted a change of tone after something that serious. Because of that the story later will become more humorous and light-hearted than usual.

Chessie looks really cool! I am going to add it to my list of monsters. I can see it playing a role similar to Mishipeshu (the Underwater Panther) in the Great Lakes. It would make for a great nature spirit that January might encounter or even call up for help, if I have a story in the Chesapeake.

ICP is originally a Michigan thing. I think they used to have the Gathering of Juggalos here as well, but I am pretty sure those are all out of state now. I hope to use the Mad Fae Corps in a future story, set at the Gathering (which will still be in Michigan in the Crowverse).

The Behind the Bastards podcast had a really good two part episode recently on Stockton Rush and his cheap libertarian submersible. The short answer is don't feel sorry for that guy. He was an ass who worked really hard to get himself killed. I only feel sorry for the teenager whose dad pressured him to go.

It is interesting that you mention it though, as in the next Book (which I am still writing right now) January will be going to the bottom of the sea.

We will find out more about the Dogman in the future. Though rest assured, his agenda is not nearly as devious as you might think. He's actually pretty straightforward.








Book 11.15 - Raven Sisters

"So what the heck was that thing?" Gadget wondered aloud. He took off his helmet with a pneumatic thump, as its airtight seal was broken. He set it down upon the surface of Cray's tabletop computer. The device instantly brought up a holographic window above the piece of armor. It began listing off its features, and provided options for interfacing with it.

"It looked like a monster from Dungeons and Dragons." Ôkami noted. He also took off his helmet. But rather than set it down, he held it under the crook of his arm. With his other hand he ran his gauntleted fingers through the fine stubble of hair that carpeted his scalp.

"I think it's the Michigan Dogman," January frowned. She too, pulled her helmet from her head. She ran her fingers across the wing that had been broken from its crown. A wide band of tape held it in place. She gingerly poked at the wing, and found that it was secure. Satisfied, she pulled off the tape altogether. This revealed that the decorative wing had reattached itself to the rest of the helmet. Once again, she was thankful for the new and improved self-repairing suit that Blackwood had crafted for her.

"But you said in your report that the Hierophant had killed him." Cray was the odd man out, in that he did not wear a super suit. Instead he was clad in own version of cape wear: a sweater vest and tie, over a pair of neatly creased slacks. He pushed his glasses up his nose, and bent over the table top computer to type on its surface.

Blackhawk and Lighthammer were not present. It had all ended before they could even arrive. So there had seemed little point in their joining. Besides, even though January might not know much about the hacker's personal life, she knew Cray's professional standards. He would forward a full report to them, once they were done writing it in the first place.

Around them spread out the elder hacker's domain. It was dominated by the massive black glass table computer. It was the size of a pool table, and boasted several controls along its edges. As Avery's helmet revealed, it automatically analyzed and interfaced with anything set upon it. It even did so for something as simple as Cray's fingertips. As soon as the hacker had put his hands on the computer, it had created a keyboard for him to begin typing with.

The walls of this section of the penthouse were covered in gigantic computer screens, along with several workstations replete with old-fashioned keyboards and mice. A sealed glass cabinet filled with servers and networking gear blinked silently among them. The blue and yellow colored cables that ran between the devices within were all fastidiously laid out and bundled together with velcro. Like their owner, they were neat and tidy.

Through the tall glass French doors that led to the balcony outside, January could see a wide wedge of Downtown Detroit. The Compuware Building and Campus Martius were right next door. Beyond spread out more office buildings, such as the Neo-Gothic roofed Comerica Building, and of course the tall glass and steel cylinders of the Renaissance Center.

Farther still meandered the Detroit River, and within it Belle Isle. January felt a twinge of guilt when she looked upon the dusty moonscape of destruction that took up the south-western tip of the island. It stood in such stark contrast with the rest of the island, and its green lawns and emerald trees.

But as ever, that feeling was dispelled when she set her eyes upon the glowing eidolon of Y Ddraig Aur. The ghostly image of the golden dragon still shone in the air, looking as if she would never leave. That brought January hope. While everything else lay in ruins, she stood tall and strong, just as the cities of Detroit and Windsor did to either side.

January looked back to the Raven's Nest. A massive block of black marble took up the center of the space. It ran from floor to ceiling, and divided the penthouse into four distinct sections. Cray's network center took up only one of these quarters. To the right lay what had been Blood Raven's ancient library, and the large freight elevator that led down to the rest of the building below. Also here was a spiral iron staircase, that wound up through the ceiling to the floor above. To the left was the lounge area, formerly the elder heroine's genealogy study. Finally opposite the massive black marble block from the computer domain was Blood Raven's former modern occult studies office.

Now of course all of Blood Raven's old books and belongings were gone. All that remained were Cray's computers and the furniture in the lounge. She and the others had not yet begun to fill up the rest of the space. She could not help but notice the emptiness created by the distinct lack of Blood Raven. All of this felt so strange without her.

"I saw it with my own eyes," January replied as Cray brought up the report that January had made after the battle. It took up a new hologram that now glowed in the air above the table. Like all the team, each of them had written down their recollections of the Battle of Belle Isle after it was over. Cray called it a mission debriefing, as if he was still in the military. He saved them all for later reference. Such as times like now.

"Perhaps the Dogman survived?" Ôkami considered. "Blood Raven can regenerate even the most grievous wounds. He might be able to do the same."

"No, his death was... spectacular." January shook her head. Even now it played back in her mind, and sent a shiver down her spine. "The Hierophant summoned up a swarm of beetles from within his own skin. They ate him from the inside out. There was nothing left."

"What about the flail?" Cray asked. "In your report, you said the first Dogman carried one. What happened to it?"

"The flail?" January cocked her head to one side, and searched her memory. The last thing she wanted to do was spend more time reliving that event. It had nearly killed her. In the end she had only survived by taking someone else's life. Once again, that had been in the most gruesome fashion.

She heard the Hierophant scream. It was a blood-curdling, high-pitched shriek that turned January's blood to ice. His body stretched out impossibly long as she looked on. Then it began coming apart, bones popping free of limbs, only to themselves turn into fine spaghetti.

"You ok January?"

January opened her eyes to find Avery standing beside her. His armored hand lay gently on her shoulder. His brown eyes stared into hers, and a look of concern was writ large across his features.

"I'm fine," January shrugged, and stepped away. Her heart raced, and her breath came in deep inhalations. She leaned over the table computer, and stared at the electronic copy of the report that she had written. But she could not really see the words. This was all just a show. She used the time it bought her to will her heart to slow down, and spend a moment just breathing evenly, in and out.

"There was a flail," she finally spoke once more. "It was the same flail that the Dogman had today. The exact same one. I am sure of it. It was like a work of monstrous art."

"Did either of you sense anything magical about it?" Cray looked from January to Ôkami.

"I was too busy eating those spiked heads to tell," January rubbed her jaw, and was careful not to break the butterfly band-aids that held her cut skin there shut. "But that thing hit. I mean it really hit. Usually only magic can do that to me. Only planting myself and becoming Earth could defend against it."

"It was magical," Ôkami insisted. "I felt it. But I have not invested too many experience points into my astral senses, so I cannot say much more than that. I did not sense it after the battle however."

"So the Dogman might be able to cloak his aura, like the Hierophant and Summoner could." January observed.

"Or maybe it can go into a low power mode?" Gadget theorized. "That guy, he didn't sound like a magical monster at the end. He talked like a regular dude. He even said it wasn't his fault."

"January, in your report you said that all of the Hierophant's minions had been promised some sort of reward for their services." Cray noted as his eyes scanned January's account of the events of the Battle of Belle Isle. "The original Dogman said he wanted a curse broken. Could this be the same curse, on a new person?"

"That is it!" Ôkami snapped his fingers and pointed it at the hologram. "The flail is cursed. Someone else must have found it after the battle, and the curse was passed on to them."

"If that is the case, he's not the enemy, the flail is." January murmured. "We have to save him from it."

"That's a big 'if'," Cray pointed out. "I know you want to think the best of people. But with some folks, there is no best. Even if there is a curse, he might not want it to be broken."

"We have to give him a chance," January insisted. "More importantly, we have to keep an open mind."

"I don't believe this, it's like I've suddenly turned into Blood Raven..." Cray sighed, and ran his fingers back through his hair. "I was always the one telling her that sort of thing. Sometimes I was right. Sometimes she was. Just remember the most important part of keeping an open mind: you need a screen door. Otherwise people will shovel a load of crap into it."

"Well, whether he really is a bad guy, or is just misunderstood, he can't be that hard to find," Gadget reasoned. "I mean, he's a giant furry monster with a Flail from Hell. Even here in the D, that is bound to stick out."

"Unless he's a lycanthrope," January replied. "He might turn into the Dogman. Then turn back to normal afterward. At the beginning of the fight it was like he was berserk, just completely overcome with rage. His eyes were just blazing with insanity. He couldn't even talk, he just growled."

"But at the end he was speaking," Ôkami observed. "He also stopped attacking. It was like he suddenly realized what he had done."

"Well, if he can go back to normal, and the flail goes into sleep mode, then we're never going to find him, at least not until he weres out again." Gadget frowned.

"But when he does, we'll be ready." January insisted. "It looks like it's time for me to hit the books. Silverlight sent me an electronic copy of her English version of the Scripta Mortis, and some books by John Dee and other old mages. I'll see what they have to say about Dogmen."

"Right, and I'll set up some bots to scan local news and social media posts for him," Cray concluded.

* * *

A fabulous brainstorming session in the Blood Ravenless Raven’s Nest. Cray continues to be awesomesauce. Jan is still dealing with intrusive memories of her messy battle with HigherPants.

From little bits and clues, it seems like the group came up with a logical theory which is much more than they started with regarding this Dogman.


Nit: ’Cray noted as his eyes scanned the {drop ‘the’?} January's account of the events of the Battle of Belle Isle.’

Good catch on the red blood, Renee!

And yes, SubRosa, you did a good job in showing that Dogman is quite dangerous even if he's not at the same scale as some others. He can pack a lot of power into a single blow.

I like how you handle some of the details here. Specifically, I'm thinking of Cray not wearing the suit. It tells the reader a lot about his role. It also shows a lot about January when she feels the twinge of regret regarding Belle Isle; she did more than anyone to save the day, but as someone who loves the city and its people, she still wishes she could've done more.

January's reaction is also making me wonder about the toll all this heroism is taking. She's done some dangerous things, and has seen/stopped some pretty horrible ones. The team seems like they'd be pretty supportive, but January would have to open up a bit more about what she's going through.

Also a good bit with Cray taking a more skeptical tone regarding the Dog Man, despite being the more forgiving one when he worked with Blood Raven. It's good advice though; like he says, an open mind still benefits from a screen door.

Interesting planning here overall.

Acadian: One of the things that Cray brings to the table is a large measure of professionalism, which we see here in his boring paperwork like after action reports and dossiers on villains. Jan and her friends may be essentially amateurs at all this, but they behave like seasoned pros, thanks to Cray behind the scenes.

January is going to go some interesting places with her research. Not necessarily accurate research. But interesting.

As ever, thank you for finding those nits for me to fix. Having a proofreader is a goddessend.


WellTemperedClavier: January does feel really bad about the mess that Belle Isle was turned into. Unlike movie supers, she usually tries her darnedest to avoid destroying the city she is ostensibly fighting for. Thankfully because it was a park, it was not people's homes being ruined. But it is still her duty to protect that place, the same as the rest. And having attempts at clean up being mired down by obstructionist politics does not help. That will eventually translate into action being taken next book.

January has a long journey to go with her PTSD, starting with admitting it to herself, and then her others.

When I was writing that I realized that everyone was originally being a little too receptive to the Dogman not being the bad guy. So I went back to add in Cray being the skeptical one. It does work as he is the old school pro, who has seen this stuff played out hundreds of times over the decades. OTOH, when I think back to his time working with Blood Raven, she was definitely the bad cop, to his good cop. It is funny how he can go from being on one end of that to the other, without really changing his views, just because of how different it is working with Blood Raven vs January.

It reminds me of something Mike Duncan of the Revolutions podcast once said about the French Revolution. Things swung between extremes so wildly during that revolution that a person could go from being on the far left, to being on the far right, without ever changing their values.






Beethoven's 5th Symphony- Metal

The Avar Khaganate was real


Book 11.16 - Raven Sisters

July 12th, evening

"So it's Friday night, the first weekend since the world almost ended Monday evening. Everybody is out celebrating the fact that yes, we are all still alive. That means it's time to party, and get drunk, and dance, and play beer pong, and have wild and totally consensual and protected sex with people we might even know."

January's mother Barbara ruefully shook her head as she leaned nearer to the microphone set up on the desk in front of her. It was borrowed from Blackjack, as were the headphones clapped down over the fifty-some year old woman's red hair.

"And we are sitting in the den, because we're giant book nerds." January added. She too spoke into another borrowed microphone, and wore another pair of borrowed headphones.

She wore her Iron Maiden tee, depicting their mascot Eddie from the Killers album cover. This was a special occasion. It wasn't everyday that you recorded your first podcast episode with your mother after all. The shirt was special too of course. Her mother Barbara had given it to her on her nineteenth birthday. Barbara had bought it at a Maiden concert herself when she had been the same age. So it was sort of a family tradition.

January looked around. She had listened to plenty of podcasts, but she had never actually thought much where one recorded them. Some people joked about doing them from their closet. MeTubers often seemed to do their shows in their bedrooms or living rooms. So she really did not expect to do it in an actual recording studio. But she had not expected to do it in the family den either.

Well, it was more of a study than a den. Given that it was in the Witch House, January was not sure if a family had ever used it, probably not a normal one at least. Then again, her life has not been normal for some time now. Sometimes it was hard to remember what normal even was anymore.

To be honest, it was not much of a study really either. The bookshelves that lined the walls were almost entirely empty. Only the arcane tomes that Blood Raven had taken from the Hierophant's lair were on display, packed into one low shelf along the floor. Before them a giant globe rose up from the ground, encased in a heavy wooden stand. It looked like something that might have graced the study of Queen Elizabeth or her court wizard, Dr. John Dee. For all January knew, either might be literally the case.

They were all clustered in the back of the room, and surrounded a giant wooden desk. Numerous cords snaked across its surface. They trailed from the mics and headphones that January and her mother used, and led to an external USB hub in the center of the table. This in turn led back to where Blackjack lurked with a laptop and an extra monitor. January and her mother sat across from one another at the middle of the desk. Ryo in the meanwhile sort of hovered in the background, half vanished in the shadows along the wall.

"January, you're coming in kind of high and tinny," Blackjack's voice came over the headset that she wore. "Turn your gain down some."

"Which one is that?" January stared at the buttons and knobs on her microphone. None of them meant anything to her.

"It's the one over by the-" Blackjack was cut off when Ryo leaned across the desk and fiddled with the appropriate control.

"Is this better?" January wondered. "I don't know what to do. Do I just talk? Maybe I should sing. I'm Crazy for this Crow..."

"That's a lot better, thank you." Blackjack nodded soberly from where he sat nearby. Ryo leaned back a moment later, and once more nearly disappeared into the background.

"So when do we start recording?" Barbara asked. "I'm getting kind of antsy to get going."

"We have been recording for some time now," Ryo intoned flatly.

"Oh great," Barbara shook her head. "This will sound so professional."

"Sorry, you can't edit audio," Blackjack shook his head. "It's a proven fact. Once you press record, all you can do is go right on through to the end. Any mistakes you make are just happy accidents."

"Thank you Bob Ross," January murmured.

"I'm surprised you kids know who that is?" Barbara said. "He was a little before your time. He was back in my day."

"I think it was in an ancient history class I took," January replied smoothly. "He was one of those Five Good Emperors of Rome, right?"

"Well, he was one of the good ones at least," Barbara laughed.

"Okay, so this is a podcast," Barbara cleared her throat, and became more serious. "This is our podcast."

"Who are you?" January asked meaningfully into her mic.

"Well you know who I am honey, I'm your mother," Barbara gave her a somewhat reproachful look.

"I know that, but the... one or two people... who are sure to listen to this don't," January replied.

"Right, that's how you start a podcast. You introduce yourself. This is going so well..." The older woman murmured. Then her voice gained confidence and went on. "Hello, my name is Barbara Ryan, and welcome to the Heroes and Villains podcast. My pronouns are she and her."

"Hi!" January spoke up in her perky phone voice. No matter how hard she tried, it could never be contained or constrained. "I'm She and Her, and my pronouns are Janu..."

January's words trailed off when she realized her gaffe, and hid her face behind one hand. Blackjack immediately burst out into peals of laughter, and her mother was not far behind. Barbara at least had the decency to try to hide her grin behind her hand. Ryo of course, was nonplussed, as he usually was.

"Now that is pure Queen energy!" Blackjack declared. "You are She and Her."

"I am," January forced had to fight to keep from laughing herself in order to force the words out. She was never going to hear the end of that! "My pronouns are January and Ryan. Well technically Ward at the time of this recording. But that's only until I get my court date to change it."

Barbara showed her affinity for public speaking - something January suspected that she learned from decades of putting on events at the library - by quickly getting things back on track.

"The music that you presumably listened to as the episode started was Beethoven's 5th Symphony, performed by Blackjack Schwartz on electric guitar. He is also our engineer. Finally our audio editor is Ryo Kuroda." Barbara looked from each young man to the other, before returning her gaze to her daughter. "So what is this podcast about January?"

"You're asking me?" January said. "I mean, this was your idea. You wrote a whole script!"

"I know, but this is the part where you explain to the audience what we do here." Barbara replied.

"This is going so well..." January tried not to laugh again. "I'm the audience stand in, at least for this series. I come knowing nothing, or less than nothing. My job is to be educated by the researchment brilliance of you, my mother, as you regale us with the tale of some hero and/or villain from history, possibly someone who is a bit of both. At least until it is my turn to present a topic and you get to be the audience stand in."

"Because real life gets really complicated, and really messy," Barbara went on. "We can't expect our heroes to be perfect. Just a few nights ago a man who once fought for Nazi Germany threw down against an alien horde intent upon devouring our very planet. That was alongside many others of course, such as our very own Great Lakes Alliance. Still, he is one of the reasons why we are still alive today to talk about him, rather than going out and doing something totally rad like partying, shooting off fireworks, and other fun things."

"That's right people, gather around the fireplace, turn down the lights, and listen as we kick off the podcast with a series on none other than Janos Heisen. He won the Nobel Prize for his work in the field of quantum physics. Some would say he's the man who discovered it in the first place. Science and sci-fi nerds like my daughter probably know him from that, or for the Heisen Uncertainty Principle, which he also formulated."

"But he is also the man who wore a suit of powered armor for Germany in World War Two, and fought from France to Russia and parts in between. He spent half of his time on the battlefield, and half in the laboratory. That meant he could never really accomplish enough to matter in either place. Meta-humans have been a reality in warfare since the Red Baron and Grognard in World War One. But Nobel-winning metas are another matter altogether. Sometimes a person can do more to influence the world in a lab than on a battlefield. Take Robert Oppenheimer for example, who was not a meta, and never fired a gun in his life. Yet he is the man who became death, the destroyer of worlds."

"This split focus may be why Heisen failed to create the atomic bomb for Hitler. Or that may have been his plan all along. Because the Nazi bomb program never really got far. Hitler didn't really trust that 'Jewish science', and interestingly enough, before the war Heisen had been accused of being a 'White Jew': an Aryan who acted like a Jew. There had even been an attempt to put him in a camp, which he staved off by appealing to Himmler. Well, his mother talked to Himmler's mother, and that was the end of that problem for Heisen."

"Never underestimate Mom Power," January murmured.

"That's right, so do what your mother says," Barbara declared, "she just might be the only thing keeping you from a concentration camp someday."

"Yes ma'am," January breathed.

"This is just an ultra-high overview right now of course," Barbara said. "We will get into this in depth later. We should have an entire episode just on Heisen in the Second World War, if not two of them. But the simple overview is that he participated in most of the really big campaigns and battles. France in 1940, Barbarossa in 1941, etc... Whenever things were really, really important he would get sent in to bolster Germany's meta-humans at the front. When things were quiet he would get sent back to Germany to work on the A-Bomb, and his own suit of powered armor."

"So what about war crimes?" January asked. "Did he do any? That is one of the main things everyone wants to know."

"I mean, as much as war is a crime period, then yes," Barbara said. "As far as anything like Babi Yar... well he wasn't directly involved in the Holocaust or say, things like the Oradour-sur-Glane massacre. But that is not to say his hands were clean. Like Heinz Guderian or Adolf Galland, every victory he achieved on the battlefield enabled other people to do all those things behind him. And the fact is, none of that was a secret to anyone in Nazi Germany. They were making home movies while they committed war crimes, and sending the film back home to be developed."

"Heisen was captured by the Russians in Berlin at the end of the war, and was held in a prison camp until Stalin died in 1953. Some people say he was the only man Stalin feared. Though I would say that honor went to General Zhukov. Heisen was no threat to him."

"In any case, during the power struggle after Stalin died, Heisen escaped from the gulag and returned to his native land of Avarica. He wound up pulling off a complicated set of diplomatic moves between the Soviets and Western Allies, which ended up with all of them withdrawing their forces from the country, in exchange for Avarica declaring permanent neutrality. That of course was not simply everyone being nice. A neutral Avarica created a perfect nexus for espionage and backroom diplomacy during the Cold War, as it was a place where agents of both sides could come and go with ease. It benefited everyone."

"Heisen became Avarica's first chancellor at what many historians call the beginning of that nation's Golden Age. Once again, it was finally a truly sovereign nation, for only the second time in a thousand years. A decade later he stepped down from leadership, and was replaced by an actually democratically elected chancellor and parliament."

"You mean like 'we got the funk'?" January quipped.

"No, not the George Clinton and Bootsy Collins kind of Parliament. The other, boring kind that makes laws." Barbara smiled. "Afterward, he did get funky in various ministries in Avarica. He was the head of their Ministry for Education and Science, and later their Ministry for Climate Action, Environment, etc... But by around 2000 he stepped away from all that, and 'retired'. By that I mean he has been doing pure scientific research and exploration, in between smacking down Abyssals and occasional supervillains of course."

"So is he a German, or not?" January asked. "I think that's a good place to start right? I mean, that's what confuses a lot of people."

"Yes he is, and by that I mean no, he's not," Barbara explained. "It's complicated, which is the whole point of this show. Put a pin in that, because we are going to circle back to it once we get to him. Short answer right now, is that he was born in Avarica, and is an Avarican citizen. Long answer is that yes, he is ethnically German, which at a certain time and place had vaster legal and social meanings than it does today."

"But first we have to turn back the sundial to the Sixth Century CE, to the Avar Khaganate, which was created by the Pannonian Avars. This is to distinguish them from the other Avars who remained in the Caucasus while they moved west into Europe. In 557 these steppe bros galloped into recorded history by sending an embassy to the Byzantine Empire. Which of course was just the Eastern Roman Empire, and did not call themselves Byzantines. But that is a whole other series. A whole other podcast in fact."

"Over the course of the next few centuries the Avars swept into Eastern Europe, and created a large kingdom in and around the Great Hungarian Plain. However, they soon came under pressure from the Carolingian Empire in the west, and other steppe nomads from the east, notably the Bulgars and the Magyars, aka the Hungarians. They survived the pushes from Charlemagne's Empire in the west, but not so much the other groups from the east. Eventually they were pressed back into the area between the Danube and the Alps, in the area we now know today as Avarica."

"This isn't an Avarican history series. That could be its own entire podcast as well. So to cut to the chase, what had once been a steppe nomad khaganate gradually transformed into a Christian Medieval state. A major step in that process was in the palindrome year of 1001, when both Avarica and Hungary converted to Christianity as part of a diplomatic agreement with the Pope. That got the Holy Roman Empire off their backs by taking them out of 'Crush the Pagans' mode."

"So hold up, the whole country just flipped a switch and turned Christian overnight, thanks to a treaty?" January questioned. She already knew the answer to this of course. But it was her job as audience stand in to ask these things.

"It was quite common," Barbara explained. "Christianity usually did not spread through Europe from the bottom up as a totally grass roots movement. Rather it was more often imposed from the top down. A king or emperor became Christian, and then made it the official state religion. That forced everyone else to do the same, or at least pretend to in public."

"It's debated of course, like everything in history," she went on. "There were indeed regular, common people becoming Christian all the time while this was going on. For example, long before the Western Roman Empire fell apart the old Pagan religions within its borders had become moribund. People were looking for something new, that spoke to them, and early Christianity could be very appealing. For example, it was one way that young women could escape from forced marriages. So there were a lot of Christians in Rome before it became the official state religion there."

"Christianity was not alone however. A lot of other different religions and sects spread through the late Roman Empire as well. Christianity just happened to be one that was eventually embraced by an Emperor and his descendants. That institutional power gave it the leg up it needed to crush the other contenders. From there on it became a glacier that inexorably spread across Europe, repeating the same pattern over and over again."

"But this top down approach is also why it took so long for Paganism to be completely eradicated in Europe," Barbara continued. "Even centuries after a country officially became Christian, the Church knew better than to bother the peasants on nights like May Eve. They let them get their Paganism on the down low, so long as they showed up to Mass on Sunday."

"Lithuania is a good example. It was originally filled with Pagans. The Teutonic Knights in Germany spent centuries trying to convert them the old-fashioned way: by raiding them on a regular basis, killing people, enslaving them, and destroying their settlements. Then the Queen of Poland came along and romance was in the air. And by romance I mean a political pact, because the only way monarchs can do politics is by having children get married. By this time Poland had long since been Christian themselves. So part of the deal was the Lithuanian ruler becoming Christian too. Just like that, the entire country became Christian with him. It also created the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, which became a powerful force in the region for centuries."

"And it was then illegal to not be Christian," January noted. "It was the same way in Scandinavia, except usually without the marriages. It was one way that rulers cemented power. Render unto Caesar because he is God's chosen one is good publicity."

"Yes, as a king there was a lot to be said for adopting the new religion." Barbara explained. "In addition to the PR boost, the Church was filled with men who could read, write, and count. They were more than happy to take over - and indeed create - a civil bureaucracy to handle the day to day running of the kingdoms of Europe. That left the kings free to do the really important tasks of ruling: like hunting, drinking, and sexually harassing women."

"And now that I think about it, I recall that Christian merchants would not trade with Pagans," January added. "So by being Pagan, you were shut out of European markets. I've read that one of the many, many reasons that the Viking Era began was that legal trade with Europe was forbidden to the Pagan Norse. So they went a-viking - as in a verb rather than a proper noun - and took what they could not buy. That is certainly not the only reason for the sudden explosion of Norse travel and trade and warfare out of Scandinavia. But it is speculated to be a thread in that gigantic tapestry."

"We also have to remember that just because Christianity became the official religion of the state, people in the countryside did not just immediately stop being Pagan." Barbara said. "As we said before, it took centuries, and longer, for that to happen. Even as recent as the 20th Century, peasants in France were venerating Saint Guinefort. He was not an official saint canonized by the Church. The people just made him one all on their own. He was a dog - a literal dog - who was believed to protect children, and people would go out into the woods to pray to his spirit for help."

"Praying to the ghost of a magic dog for divine intervention," January mused. "That sounds a lot like Paganism to me..."

"It sure does." Barbara agreed. "And you can be sure that the Catholic Church was not too keen on it. But to get back on track, in the case of the Avarican Khans - and I am not sure if they were even called that at this point anymore - officially going Christian meant a massive geopolitical and economic shift. That's why this was a political treaty. If they had not done it, then there is a good chance Avarica would have been obliterated by the Holy Roman Empire. Well, the entity that came to be known as the HRE, as it wasn't called exactly that quite yet. It was the Ottonian fragment of the Carolingian Empire at that time."

Ryo leaned forward and spoke into January's microphone in a low, nearly monotone voice. "The ghost of Voltaire compels me to declare that the Holy Roman Empire was neither holy, Roman, nor an empire."

Then he moved away so that January could use the microphone one more.

"We are of course, legally obligated to say that every time the HRE is brought up." January added.

"As it was, Avarica had only barely survived the attacks by the earlier Carolingian Empire in the 800s." Barbara went back to her script. "If history had turned out slightly differently, then we might not be talking about Avarica at all today. Instead that region might be called the East Marches or Ost Marches, or something like Ostria instead."

"Still, it was not all heart emojis for the now Medieval Christian Avaricans. They spent the next thousand years wedged between more powerful empires: the Holy Roman Empire and later the Hapsburgs to the west, and the Hungarians and later Ottomans to the east. They were a buffer state of one after another, and for centuries the wars of larger nations were played out across Avarica's rivers and fields."

"So as the saying goes, Avarica was nowhere special, but it was on the road to everywhere special," January observed.

"Exactly," Barbara agreed. "In this time the land of Avarica became a melting pot of different ethnicities. Well, it had been all along really. Before the Avars came it had been the homeland of the Gepids, an ethnically German people. Then came not only the Eurasian Avars, but a whole slew of different groups of Slavs: the Slovaks, Moravians, Bohemians, and the like."

"At first the Slavs lived under Avar rulership, but were socially separate from the nomads. The Avars themselves appear to have been ultimately East Central Asian in origin, from somewhere around modern Mongolia, maybe even farther east of there. But eventually the two cultures blended together, as always happens when different groups of people get thrown in with one another. Later you add Bulgars, Hungarians, Ottomans and more. Then throw in some more ethnic Germans after Hapsburg dominance began and you end up with a real chunky marinara of peoples."

"We should probably also throw in a little more context about the Holy Roman Empire and the Hapsburgs. When Charlemagne died, he divided up his empire between his three sons. If you have ever seen the movie Ran or read King Lear, you know this always ends well. Only two of these mini-empires survived. One was in what is now France. The other was the Ottonian dynasty in Germany."

"That Ottonian state evolved into the HRE. It was not really a single, unified nation like we know them today. Rather it was a patchwork of different baronies, duchies, principalities, free cities, and the like spread across what is now Germany. They had an electoral college of prince-electors, who as the name implies, elected each emperor after the last one died. Not that this was in any way a democracy. It was a feudal oligarchy comprised of the upper crust of society competing for who got to call the most shots. Like all politics, it was filled with bribes, threats, back-room deals, alliances, betrayals, murders, and wars."

"The Hapsburgs were a noble family from Central Europe that rolled into this setting, and gradually cemented power both within and without the Holy Roman Empire. Over time they acquired vast personal estates in what are now northern Switzerland, Bavaria, and Czechia. They started out from Hapsburg Castle (people were really original with names back then) in Switzerland. But they soon moved their capital to Prague, in Bohemia, where it would remain for nearly a thousand years."

"Because some of their lands were in the Holy Roman Empire, that made them prince-electors. They used this position to get various members of their family elected to emperor for nearly the entire history of the HRE. Or they married off their daughters to said emperors, and made them part of the family. So while they did not directly own the Holy Roman Empire, for nearly its entire existence it was essentially an extension of Hapsburg dominance over Central Europe."

"This all came tumbling down when a dude you might have heard of named Napoleon Bonaparte came along at the start of the 1800s."

"Boney!" January cried. "Or as he was also commonly known on the street: Nappy B."

"Some might say he was the original Napster." Barbara smiled. "Well in 1806 he was totally downloading Europe. In the process he did not just overrun the Holy Roman Empire, he simply abolished it entirely and replaced it with a creation of his own: the Confederation of the Rhine. Avarica was not important enough for the Napster to put one of his relatives on its throne to rule, as he did in many other places. But like the new Confederation, it became a constitutional monarchy with a bicameral legislature separate from the Prince who now ruled it. Also like the new Confederation of the Rhine, it was now a protectorate of France."

"As listeners may be aware, Napoleon's own empire did not last another decade. In 1812 he made the classic blunder of invading Russia. But at least that gave us a cool overture by Tchaikovsky. Then a year later in 1813 he lost the Battle of Leipzig, and that was pretty much the final death knell of his empire. After that he had to flee to France, with the armies of the Sixth Coalition hot on his heels. A year later Nappy B was forced to abdicate as the Coalition forces went through France like Thai food goes through my insides."

"Even though it was freed of French domination, the Holy Roman Empire still never made a comeback after this. As a political entity it was kaput, and was replaced by a new German Confederation. In reality this still left Germany a patchwork of mostly independent states, with Prussia being the most powerful. It would remain this way until Bismarck united them all into what we now think of as the modern Germany in 1871. Technically as the German Empire, then later the Weimar Republic, etc..."

"In the meantime the Hapsburgs continued to roll coal in the south, now ruling directly over their own empire in Central Europe and much of the Balkans. It was made up of both their ancestral homelands in Bohemia and Bavaria, and other states they had conquered over the centuries. That included Avarica, as well as places like Hungary, Transylvania, Slovenia, Galicia, Bosnia, Dalmatia, and so on.

"During the wave of revolutions that swept across Europe in 1848 Avarica rose up to claim its independence from the Hapsburgs, just as practically everyone else was doing across the continent. For a brief period it became a republic. But like all the other revolutions in this period, theirs failed too. When the dust settled Avarica reverted back to a constitutional monarchy that was subservient to the Hapsburg Emperor, who was still based in their ancient capital of Prague."

"The Hapsburg Empire finally disintegrated at the end of the First World War. With that all of its former holdings were divided into independent states. That included the Republic of Avarica, which was now truly free of foreign domination for the first time in a thousand years. Well, at least until the Nazis annexed it in the run up to the Second World War two decades later."

"So today we know that Avarica lies just south of Germany and Czechia, west of Hungary, north of Slovenia, and east of Switzerland. It was in this place, still part of the aging Hapsburg Empire, that little Janos Heisen was born. He came into the world in a two room apartment in the city of Windna, on the banks of the River Danube, on the sixth of December, 1902."

Barbara went on to lay out the story of Janos Heisen, the world's greatest scientist, pacifist world leader, pioneer in education, and strident activist for safeguarding the world's ecology. It was a long story. Hours and hours long in fact. They did not break up until after midnight, with enough material for at least four episodes of over an hour each. That gave them a month of podcasting done ahead of time. Given how January knew that real life could interrupt even the most finely laid schedules of mice and women, having all that done ahead of time was a relief.

Through it all January tried to be a good podcast co-host, by not stepping on her mother's toes too much, but also continuing to interject in order to clarify things that the audience might not understand. Sometimes the things she did not understand herself. World history had never been her strongest suit, at least not when it strayed from barbarians burning down Rome or plundering the British coast. Those were the interesting parts. Things got a little fuzzy for her beyond that.



January's Pronoun gaffe was inspired by the intro of the SS Andrea Doria episode of the Well There's Your Problem podcast.

* * *

Wow, these two can really fill up some hours with this slice of European history! Barbara is clearly a history nerd but Jan manages to add some flavor and interest. And we’re only up to when the subject hero/villain was born before you summarize the rest of his history.

Everything I know about podcasting would not fill a matchbox so I am learning some things. Sort of like with Renee and her tarot card readings.


Nits -
"January, your {you’re} coming in kind of high and tinny,"
"I {it?} was quite common," Barbara explained. "Christianity usually did not spread…’

It's actually very realistic, to me, that Cray would change sides, so to speak. Things change very rapidly in the real world, like you say. They change even more rapidly on social media, which is one reason I stay away from it these days.

I have to admit I'm a little uncomfortable with how breezily Barbara describes Janos's Nazi past. This obviously ties into some of the earlier discussions about how you can't always find clear heroes and villains in history. Still, there needs to be some accounting for what Janos did in any description of him. Admittedly I don't know the specifics of his biography; maybe he was coerced, or limited in his service (the debate as to whether or not he deliberately sabotaged the Nazis' atom bomb efforts indicates there's some level of ambiguity as to his involvement).

I know that you know all of this. I'm just saying what would be on my mind if I lived in this world and were listening to the podcast.

I quite liked how granular you were in Avarica's history. You incorporated just about all the migrations, conversions, and political movements that'd be relevant. And even though change can be very rapid, it can also be very gradual, like the example you give about paganism. So many of the old ways kept lingering after people had officially "converted".

Avarica as a melting pot almost seems like Austria-Hungary in miniature: a myriad collection encompassing the whole of Central/Eastern Europe. I've been kind of fascinated with the Habsburgs for a while now, so I like seeing them referenced. It was an odd polity in that it was simultaneously really old-fashioned (being almost medieval in its outlook regarding monarchy) and strangely progressive (relatively tolerant). Josef Roth's The Radetzky March, detailing the empire's final days, is one of my favorite novels. Roth doesn't pull any punches in showing just how rotten and ossified the empire had become, but at the same time, it provided a certain type of home. This was particularly important for Roth, given that he was Jewish.

The Habsburg Empire being ruled from Prague is also intriguing. Can't help but wonder if Emperor Rudolf II had a bigger legacy in this version of the world, especially considering the presence of magic.

One thing I'm curious about: when the Avarican monarchy returned to the Habsburg fold, did it maintain much power? I'm wondering if it ended up being like a second Hungary, with a fair amount of autonomy.

Clavier, I did go back and add more to the brief overview of Heisen in WWII, as you requested. I really can't get into it all. That would be a novel, or a series of them, in its own right. But the TLDR is that Heisen was comparable to people like Heinz Guderian. He was not directly complicit in the Holocaust or war crimes, but every victory he achieved enabled others to do said war crimes. And like everyone in Germany, he knew they were going on.

Great! It was addressed quite well and adds a lot of texture to the story.

Oh, you don't have to include Chessie! Seems you've got a lot of other stuff to get to as it is, hon. Chessie's pretty much a joke. Not taken nearly as seriously as Nessie. I am really interested in the new hero from B'more though, the Korean who's chosen to live in Mount Vernon.

Hey, if you have a few minutes. Have I ever linked you to this superhero song? All Mighty Senators were a Baltimore band, regionally popular up and down the east coast, so I'm not sure if they ever made it to Michigan. Anyway, that's about superheros. I used to go dancing to them all the time. They also do an action hero song (Chuck Norris.. etc.)

Oh no, I don't feel sorry for Stockton. I've fallen into a serious Stockton Rush/Ocean Gate wormhole over the past month, seriously, I've run out of stuff to watch/read about those negligent fools. So yeah, thanks for that. Behind The Bastards... I'll check it out.

--------------------------

A monster from DnD sounds about right! Like a kobold, perhaps.

Cray's lair is wicked fab. I love all the details about how it's all laid out. You'd think some guy wearing all black speaking in an unidentifiable foreign accent would be in charge here, not somebody dressed like Mister Rogers. Whenever Cray speaks I can't help but think he's doing so in that ultra-gentle tone of voice, meant to set young children at ease.

Blood Raven's got an occult room! Or had one.

Ah, so there is some connection to Higher Pants. Maybe so, anyway,.



Nice! Never thought of it that way. And yeah, was gonna say, seems like since there are plenty of existing legends about this Dogman dude that reading up on them might glean a few ideas.

wow, so only 5 days have passed since Belle Isle.

Mom's seen Maiden, goodness. I wonder how she wound up with deadbeat dad, then. I guess it's like people change, huh? Maybe Jan's father was once a cool dude.

You know, that's a really good point about podcasts. Barbara seems to think they're like polished interviews perhaps, and she's shocked that they're already recording. But isn't that the truth: even the best podcasts I've heard have an element of disorganization. Going off-topic, and so on, 📼 That's part of their appeal, imo.



I've heard this on some Hulu show lately, what does this phrase mean? My daughter tried to explain, but I didn't really get it.

Really true about the way religion's been instituted. Christianity started as the most humble of relgions, but for whichever reason it's been chosen again and again as State-Sponsored. And then they get most of those early messages wrong, imo.

Anyway, mom & daughter, sharing a podcast. Now that's special.

Acadian: It turns out Barbara actually read a few of those books while she was working in the library!

I want the podcast to be a major part of Barbara and Jan's lives going forward. I see it eventually becoming their primary source of income, as it is for some people IRL. So I wanted to spend some time actually podcasting, to show what it sounds like. It also gave me an ideal opportunity to do some world building, and explain how the Crowverse's Avarica is different from Austria in the real world.

TBH, podcasting is just talk radio. But without a radio station. So there is no gatekeeping. Anyone can do it so long as they have a microphone, computer, and audio software. That is really good, and can be really bad, just like the rest of the internet. It allows knowledgeable people to talk about the things they know a lot about. It also allows idiots to spout nonsense to their hearts content, often very harmful nonsense.


WellTemperedClavier: Avarica is very much a melting pot, simply because of its position. It is right in the middle of things, so everyone is going through there to get to everywhere else. So it does turn out a lot like RL Austria simply from geography. Working out the history, I basically started with the point of divergence from the real world being that the Avar state was not wiped out by Charlemagne's empire. From there on everything else happened more or less like in the our world, except the nature of Avarica.

So the Crowverse has the Hapsburgs. But they did not settle in Austria. Instead they put down roots in what is now the Czech Republic, in Prague. But they still created the same empire as before, and they were still assailed by the same enemies: the Ottomans, the French, the Prussians, etc... And they still ended the same way after World War One.

I have not really heard of Rudolf II until you just mentioned him. He probably was a wizard in the Crowverse. But you have to remember that magic before the Tunguska Event was not like it is now. It was not like super powers allowing people to fly or throw fireballs. It was a lot more subtle, and filled with long, elaborate rituals and workings. So I don't imagine his reign turning out differently. He spent a lot of time doing magic, at the cost of his statecraft. So in the end he comes across as an ineffectual ruler, but also a leading light in the Enlightenment and arts, who pushed the world ahead overall.

I don't see Avarica ever having the special place that Hungary did within the Hapsburg Empire. The Hapsburgs used the Hungarians as sort of an attack dog to keep the other ethnicities in their empire in line. That in turn gave the Hungarians a bigger seat at the table compared to everyone else. I don't see Avarica as ever being that. So they were probably more like Slovenia, or Dalmatia, basically just puppets.


Renee: Mishipeshu is literally nothing but an ancient rock carving, and a collection of folk tales, and I was able to use that portray him/it as an impressive character. I don't see any reason why Chessie could not be the same in the Crowverse.

That song is wild.

That gentle tone is indeed Cray's usual voice. He is based on Gambi from the TV show Black Lightning. So he has a gruff, but soft voice and tone.

January's father was indeed, once much less of a dick than he is now. A lot of people change for the worse as they age, and their lives don't turn out the way they had hoped. Or they just get rich, and lose the ability to feel empathy for others.

Most of the best podcasts I listen to are train wrecks! Well There's Your Problem is about engineering disasters, and they describe their own show as a disaster itself. I deliberately wanted to show some of that unpolished nature here, and included Jan's pronoun gaffe as but one more example of it not going quite as anyone expected.

People listing their preferred pronouns is something that I think started on social media. It is simply some stating how they want to be referred, as She/Her, or He/Him, or They/Them, etc... It's a subtle show of support for transpeople, whose voices might not match their gender identities. It also drives white supremacists crazy, which is reason enough to do it. Because they are horrified at the thought of referring to a trans person by their preferred pronouns. They hate any act of empathy for others.









As always today's locations can be found on the Stormcrow Google Map



Nassau Waypoint Pic 01


Nassau Waypoint Pic 02


Book 11.17 - Raven Sisters

July 13th, afternoon.

"When people say visit scenic Michigan, I don't think this is what they had in mind."

Lighthammer held his hands up to indicate the empty basement in which they all clustered. Little puffs of dust kicked up from the bare concrete under their feet. The rust and oil stains indelibly printed into the floor hinted at former machinery that had been long-since removed. The brick walls were equally barren, except for places where they had been broken open to create long, empty channels in the otherwise crumbling masonry. It was a sure sign that scrappers had come along at some point to rip out all the copper wiring.

"What do you mean, this is Pure Michigan baby!" Gadget laughed. Like Cleveland's superhero, he wore his super suit. In Gadget's case it was a set of powered armor that glowed soft blue. They all were decked out in their 'work' attire. January was clad in her Stormcrow armor, and Ôkami in his samurai gear. Only Xochitl stood out, wearing a miniskirt and spaghetti top that left her shoulders bare.

A rat squeaked in the shadows, as if to underscore the meta-inventor's words.

"Even Boo agrees," Ôkami breathed. Then ninja/samurai abruptly stopped and looked up at the ceiling overhead. "Make way villainy, hero coming through."

"He's right, she's here," January said. Like her partner, she too had sensed the other woman's approach in astral space. She was easy to sense. Her aura was a bright glow in the magical realm, compared to the dull grayscale of mundane humans. She was also the only other human in the empty industrial building.

Within a few moments the newcomer revealed herself to be Blackhawk. She too was clad in her metal armor, emblazoned with a medicine wheel across the chest. January noted that the +5 enchantment that Blood Raven had placed on the armor during the Battle of Belle Isle had faded away. Now there was nothing but a faint whiff of the arcane about the other woman, like the scent of perfume still hanging in the air in the wake of its wearer.

"Blackhawk!" January slipped into her perky phone voice once more. "I want you to meet someone. This is my apprentice, Xochitl."

"Sochi, like the city where they had the Olympics recently?" The First Nations woman replied. She stepped forward to greet the teenager, who shook her head.

"No, like the flower, in Nahuatl," Lighthammer said. "Yeah, I found out too, just a few minutes ago."

"It's a common mistake," the teen sighed, and shook the other woman's offered hand. "Ever since those Olympics, everyone does it."

"You should hear all the January jokes I hear every February." January breathed.

"I don't want to sound like I don't appreciate the fabulous natural wonderland of your home state," once again Lighthammer waved his hands to indicate the industrial decay that surrounded them. "But can we get it in gear? I don't like the way that rat in the corner is eyeing me."

"That is a giant miniature space rat," Gadget murmured.

"You should see some of Toronto's old, run-down buildings," Blackhawk shrugged. "Every city has them. It's a good place to meet though, nothing to trace back to anyone's identities. Still, we could have met at Green Island, in Lake Erie."

"Just wait, and you'll see why we're here." Gadget practically bragged.

"Okay now watch what I am about to do, and mostly importantly feel it," January said to Xochitl. "Study the rune. It's just a pentacle with a few extras. It's a great example of how anything can be a rune. It's not the design, but the power and intent bound up within it that is the key."

With that January closed her eyes and reached out to the Waypoint Network. The pentacle hidden under their feet answered her call, and glowed to brilliant life and power. January allowed her awareness to sink past the rune itself, and connected her consciousness to all of the other runes that it was connected to. She flipped through them like pages in a book, until she found the one she wanted.

"Ok everyone hold on to me." She opened her eyes once more. She was careful to keep her focus on the network, and the waypoint that she had chosen. Xochitl, Gadget, and Ôkami were no strangers to the teleportation network, so they instantly stepped closer and laid their hands on her shoulders. Xochitl gently folded her fingers into January's. She stretched out her other hand, and felt Lighthammer take hold of it in a firm grip. A moment later Blackhawk took her wrist, and they were ready to go.

January closed her eyes again, and made a final push with her energy. The waypoint that she had selected flared to brilliant life. The industrial basement disappeared, only for its rusty, dusty concrete to be replaced with broken, sun-bleached concrete. This new concrete floor appeared to be a flat building foundation. But it had broken and worn apart, and new green shoots of grass and bright flowers rose up from the cracks.

Above them was the wide bowl of a clear blue sky, from which the sun beat down hot from overhead. The air felt humid and damp, and the reason why became clear soon enough. For to one side stretched out the wide, flat expanse of a marsh, which eventually gave way to an actual lake of green water. To the other three sides rose a wall of trees and tropical plants. Insects buzzed loudly, and birds sang brightly.

In the distance January heard the roar of an engine that slowly grew louder and louder. Her eyes scanned the firmament, and she found the author of a sound a moment later. It was a massive jet airliner that had just taken to the sky. It passed directly overhead, and she could see its wheels slowly retract up into its fuselage and wings as it sped off into the distance.

"Okay, that was a neat trick," Blackhawk nodded. "I didn't know you could do that."

"I can't," January admitted. "The magic isn't in me, it's in the runes. Blood Raven set up this network to get around the city more quickly, without being noticed."

"Well, it certainly did the latter." Lighthammer whistled. "But this doesn't look like Metro Airport. Is our ride to Blackwood's place going to find us here?"

"It's not Metro," January turned to down a long, arrow straight dirt road that led off in to the direction that the plane had come from. "We're in Nassau."

"The Bahamas?" Blackhawk's eyes opened wider. "Okay, now I am impressed."

"Did you get a good look at the rune?" January turned her attention from her fellow supers to her apprentice. "Did you feel how it works?"

"I think so," Xochitl frowned. "It was... I'm not sure. It was complicated."

"I know." January nodded, and laid a comforting hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "I still don't know how it works myself. I just know that it connects distant points of spacetime with one another for a brief instant. How it does that, I dunno..."

"The important thing is this is an example of runic magic in action." January continued. "You don't have to understand it all right now. I just wanted you to see it again, and experience it first hand. One day you will be making these yourself."

"You think so?" Xochitl asked, the eagerness barely concealed in her voice.

"I know so," January declared with absolute certainty. "Remember, a conjure woman who doubts, is a conjure woman who fails."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Xochitl rolled her eyes. "There are no mights, no maybes, etc... We had that talk already, like a thousand times."

"So why Nassau?" Lighthammer asked. "Why not just link straight to Blackwood's place in the Virgin Islands?"

"Because this is where I grew up." A voice rang out from the lake. Rising up from a column of water was Calypso. The Caribbean heroine was in her oceanic form. Her body was primarily covered in fine green scales, save for irregular dark blue patterns that were contrasted by brighter swathes of pink to red. She had no hair. Instead her head was framed with spiny fin rays that created a delicate nest of fans that framed her features. Otherwise she was human in shape, with two arms and two legs, though both her fingers and toes were webbed.

She wore her coral green armor. It girded her shoulders, chest, waist, and wrists with its intricately carved designs. Beneath this she wore a body suit of dark gray leather strips that criss-crossed her frame in a cross-hatch design. A coral headpiece covered her forehead and cheeks, but left her spiny fins bare.

In one hand she held Bagua, her staff of solid water. It was topped by the Taino symbol for water, a whirlpool created from two parallel lines that swirled around one another. As ever, it whispered in the astral with the voice of the sea, of crashing waves, and gently lapping water.

"Calypso!" January cried. "I am glad you could make it. Now we just have one more person to wait for."

"Hey girl," Lighthammer smiled as he sauntered over to Calypso. "How you doin?"

"Lighthammer!" The Caribbean heroine's smile was a glittering bed of pearls. "I am well. How does Cleveland treat you?"

"Well I..." But the light-based hero's words trailed away when an aircraft hovered into view over the treetops from the south. Even though it was clearly made of metal, it looked like a giant, flying spider. Neither plane nor helicopter, this aircraft did not possess wings or rotors or even jet engines.

It was generally oval in shape, divided into two distinct segments, like a spider. The cockpit formed the first segment, and was encased with giant bubble canopies all around. This jutted forward from the larger abdomen behind. A line of four engine nacelles ran along each side of this larger body segment, and smaller windows bubbled out between them. These nacelles swiveled around on spars or legs that jutted from the body, and looked like jet engines mounted on rods. But no fire or sound erupted from the nozzles of the nacelles. Instead they simply glowed with blue light. January saw these nacelles change their orientation as the craft moved in and slowly turned in the air, before finally setting down.

A ramp opened up in the rear of the spidercraft. This revealed a cargo bay large enough to drive a vehicle directly in or out. The metal floor was dotted with fittings that straps or cables might tie down into. The walls and ceiling were unfinished, leaving metal frames and stringers bare for the length and height of the interior.

The jump seats and folding bunks nestled between the longitudinal beams reminded January of a flying camper. So too did the living amenities situated within the hull, such as a microwave, water cooler, refrigerator, and a small stove and oven. There was even a tiny bathroom and shower stall. Emergency gear such as life vests and parachutes were also neatly packed along the walls. Spaced among the gear and utilities were those small bubble canopies that she had seen from the outside, which allowed the sun to fill the interior with light.

The cockpit was situated in the nose of the vessel, and was elevated from the cargo area. Here two seats were set within the bubble canopies at the very front of the ship. Another pair were set just behind them and to either side, giving them a pyramidal layout. A long console ran down the center of the space, and smaller panels were laid over the transparent walls and ceiling in some places. These all bristled with enough buttons, dials, knobs, and sticks to over-stimulate even a technophile. Finally a green heads up display glowed with brilliant life upon the two main canopies themselves, providing all sorts of navigational and environmental information.

Standing in the rear hatchway was Viuda. As her usual, the Puerto Rican superheroine was clad in her slender, form-fitting powered armor. As befitting her namesake, it was painted black and bore a red hourglass upon her belly, while similar red trimmings accentuated her shoulders and arms. Her helmet was built like a hoodie, whose hem was again lined in scarlet. It left her face completely obscured, and was dominated by a pair of oversized white eye pieces that bulged like the twin canopies at the very nose of her aircraft.

"Hola amigos!" she said with a wave.

This was a nice review of many things – Blood Raven’s waypoint network, Xochitl’s ongoing mentorship under Stormcrow, and, finally, sort of a reintroduction of most of the Raven coven members. With the large cast you have in this story, reviewing who is who periodically is welcome.

"Even Boo agrees," Ôkami breathed. Then ninja/samurai abruptly stopped and looked up at the ceiling overhead. "Make way villainy, hero coming through."
- - This was fun to hear (as a BGII fan) and quite appropriate coming from the gamenerd Okami. Giant miniature space rat indeed!

I look forward to discovering why Stormcrow has assembled the gang in Nassau. Perhaps a set of super armor for Xochitl?


Nit: ’Beneath this she was a body suit of dark gray leather strips that criss-crossed her frame in a cross-hatch design.’ - - Either I am misunderstanding your intent or perhaps you meant the word ‘wore’ instead of ‘was’?

Good to see some of the January's Caribbean friends again. And it's a nice showcase of some of the powers at the team's disposal. Going from Michigan to the Bahamas is no mean feat. I also quite liked the abruptness of the transition. The sudden brightness and humidity drives home the point that they're using magic.