A/N: YAY! I HAVE THE SECOND CHAPTER! FINISHED! Wow….re-reading the first chapter and this one, I realize that this one may be a bit sped up and out of place…YAY FOR MY CRAPPY STORY! -OMGTEHDANCEACTION!42431- Anyway, thanks for reviewing, guys! It's a great habit…….so keep getting addicted to it, and SEND ME MOOOORE! I live off them! I'm a PARASIIITE! FEED MY REVIEW-CRAVING BODYYYYY! WOOO!

Okay that was weird. ANYWAYS! On fictionpress, my best friend Lex and I started a series about demons and prophecies and the future and romance…and I think the guy demon gets raped by a girl later on…in our roleplay of it, he did. XDDD anyway, if you wanna check it out, our pen name there, ON FICTION PRESS, is Velveteen Cashmeritan.

Thanks. Okay! Enough talk! HERE'S CHAPPY TWOOO


It is funny how life is. No matter how much you try to prevent the worst occurrences from happening, there is no way to ensure that things are always as they seem. You will atrophy over time, and eventually you will receive a cement tombstone with your name engraved on it, as well as a special date, and year. Nothing and nobody is eternal.

The cool air-conditioning sent swirls of fresh air splashing across Raven's sweating skin, as she stirred a home-made drink. Chilled herbal tea. No matter what the season, or temperature, she claimed that the drink helped her calm the monster within, in a spiritual manner.

It was mid-summer; about July, and Raven was the only one up at 9:30 during this season. Tiny bead-lets of sweat slid down the sides of her forehead and neck, letting her black spandex uniform cling to her skin, drenched. Her hair hung in separate violet locks this morning, as she had decided not to brush it when she had gotten up.

She watched what she thought was an annoying television show; partly because the hot sun had posed a strong glare on the screen; and sighed distantly. It had been about 3 months since the young boy's death in the marsh, and it did not seem like anyone would be forgetting it soon. Starfire still fretted when she saw the 2 year-old picture of the Titans at that very marsh, reveling the in the fact that they had, altogether, caught 1 fish. ("It was absolute team-work!" Robin had boasted.)

Thinking of Robin, it didn't seem like he would be recovering, either. He, being in charge of the Titans' financials, was under severe stress in trying to pay the mother of the child the money she demanded. Yep, the Titans were being sued.

Already, they had to sell the couch, and buy a smaller love-seat, and had to sell many trinkets that were once near to their hearts, in order to pay up and cover the hole that their mistake had burned. Happiness started lingering only in small quantities; a second-long smile at one another, or 2 moments of un-surpressed laughter. Everyone felt that it seemed wrong to be happy, when an innocent boy would never feel that emotion again, because of them. It was killing all of them. Even Raven.

As she finished off the final drop of the freezing herbal liquid, Raven set down her dark mug, hugging her knees up against her chest, under her chin. The 'swoosh' sound of the Living room doors opening sounded, and a large thump followed. Arching a suspicious eyebrow, Raven let go of her legs, slowly turning around.

Beast Boy lay sprawled across the carpeted floor, groaning in pain. His legs were caught in the door, which had forced it to remain open, and he was wearing only his blue and yellow-rubber-ducky boxers. He lifted his head, saw Raven, and blushed, smiling a lop-sided smile. His face read 'Help?' Raven rolled her eyes in a response, and walked over, bending down and helping the poor Changeling up.

"What did you do? Trip over your own feet?" Raven asked monotonously. Beast Boy rubbed the back of his neck, responding with a, "Well, you know the funny thing about that is…"

"You're a mess." Raven sat back down on the couch, lifting the remote to change the T.V. channel. But before she could, Beast Boy had lept into action, shooting himself over the back of the couch and into Raven's lap. "No!" he cried, wrenching the remote out of her hands.

Raven stared at him, and shoved him off of her lap, eyebrows raised. Beast boy laughed nervously, explaining, "I like this show…"

"You like Dora the Explorer?" Raven said incredulously with a hint of sarcasm.

"…Would there be anything wrong with that?"

"It implies you have a certain admiration for pre-school-leveled shows."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Raven tilted her head, pretending to be in deep thought. "That would have to depend on your view."

"Well, what's yours?"

"I think it's honestly quite sad."

"Is that a good thing?"

"What do you think."

"Uhm….starting to lean towards no…"

"Maybe you AREN'T as stupid as I thought."

"Ow, Rae. Ow. That one stung the heart."

"One of the many services I offer."

"What? Revealing the true person within? Name some of the others."

"Do I absolutely have to?"

"Yeah. You do."

"No, I don't."

"Fine. Live life as a party-pooper."

"That's exactly what I intend on doing."

This went on for a little while longer, until all words stopped suddenly for a moment. An eerie, silencing gap took the place of the emptiness, feeding off the slight happiness that had once been alive and thriving. Beast Boy tapped his foot as a way to ride it out, and Raven clutched the remote for an unknown reason, feeling the heat of the sun dissipate as a cloud obscured it from sight. The ending credits for Dora scrolled down the screen, but no one really paid attention to it.

These awkward silences were quite common in conversations nowadays. Even between Robin and Starfire, definitely the most romantic of the group.

"Wanna watch 'Whose Line'?" Beast Boy asked to Raven, breaking the quiet. Raven glanced over at him, shrugging her shoulders up, then down.


He took the remote from her hands, pressing '4-2'; the ABC family channel. When he was done, he set the remote back down on her thigh, their hands brushing up against each-other's in slight. The humor of the show definitely lightened the load a bit, but nothing was perfect. Beast Boy laughed heatily a few times, and even caught Raven smiling at the antics of Colin Mockerie and Ryan Stiles.

After that show was over, and the introduction to Full House began to play, Robin's foot-steps became audible, as the automatic door let him into the den. He looked at Raven and Beast Boy, then proceeded to retrieve a glass of water from the kitchen. Raven this time took it up as her duty to give up being overly kind to her green comrade by watching a show that was beneath her, and rose, padding over to Robin.

"How are you?" she greeted him in a low voice, leaning her hip against the refrigerator. Robin turned his back to her, and grumbled a sleep-deprived, "Fine. You?"

"Just fine. I learned Beast Boy adores Nick Junior, and that you slept in later than usual," Raven replied, mock-perky. She let her head tilt to the side, examining Robin in this new angle. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I TOLD you," he said, opening the microwave and stuffing a couple bean burritos, that were situated on a Dixie plate, into it, slamming it shut carelessly. Running a hand through his thick, dark hair, he answered, "I'm fine, Rae. Just a little stressed", a bit calmer than his last remarks.

"I'm just checking, you know," said Raven, opening the top cupboard and pulling out a clear glass. She opened the fridge door, and pulled out a jug of energy drink fluid, pouring it into the chipping cup. "Being the eyes, ears, and brain of this team." Robin turned around, facing her, and sighed.

"I know, I know." He slanted against the counter, massaging his chin and jaw-lining while staring out the window. Birds twittered, and swooped high and low, while the bustling metropolis of Jump City in the near distance thrived just the same as it always did. "We still owe Mrs. Flant about 1100 dollars…"

"Don't worry about it," Raven told him, patting his back in a rare sisterly way. She stopped a moment later. "What if we sold the T-Sub to some federal deep-sea organization?" Robin looked up at her, jaw dropped, and let go of the marble counter-top.

"Are you JOKING!" he cried desperately, slumping against the microwave just as it 'DING!'ed, sending him jumping up in surprise. "Raven, we NEED that! We can't sell it!"

Looking every which way to see that no one else was watching, Raven said in a low voice, "Robin, you know as well as I do that we may not BE a team for much longer. We have to give away the things that are not necessary…and the T-sub is one of them. So what if we can't go for anymore deep-sea adventures? You know it's no skin off my nose." She gave a feigned smile, trying to melt the boy wonder's currently frozen temperament.

It worked in a minuscule way, as Robin let out another of his heavy sighs, face melting into an emotional mixture of drowsiness and confusion. "I guess you know best," he concurred, rubbing his scalp. "I just don't want to face the music….damn me…."

"No, Robin….Like you said, it's just stress." Raven sighed as well. "How'll we break this one to Cyborg? Most of his gadgets we've had to sell….I don't know how he'll take giving away the T-sub…"

"At least it's not the T-Car," Robin said, then smiled a little for the first time in a standard amount of time. "Then he'd fry us like chicken."

"The one love he never outgrew," Raven stated, then strided back to the couch, taking her old seat back. Beast Boy looked up at her, with a look that clearly read 'What are you talking about?' Raven shook her head, as a way to non-verbally reply 'Never mind'.


As a miniature celebration of finally being able to pay the mother, Mrs. Flant, the money she demanded from them, the Titans headed to their local sandwich shop. Beast Boy had suggested it, hinting that it may help Robin get that 'large object' out of his ass. Robin had only sneered in response, and Starfire had started asking Robin what object was up there.

They all sat around a large circular table, with their meals set in front of them. Robin only picked at his tuna sandwich, while Cyborg fully indulged in his 4 meat hoagie. Starfire sipped a smoothie, and took large, 'dainty' bites of her ham and cheese sandwich, all the while musing aloud how fascinating she thought it of how many products came from pigs. Beast Boy had a chicken salad sandwich, with the chicken replaced by tofu, and drank a coke. Raven didn't get anything, except for an ice tea.

"Dude, Raven, are you like anorexic?" Beast Boy asked her, mouth filled with a sizeable amount of his sandwich. Raven eyed him, sipped her drink, and shook her head. "Ya sure?" BB pressed on. Raven glowered.

"Do I look like the type of stereotypical blonde-haired air-headed bimbo who would do a thing like that?" she demanded dryly. "If I wanted to kill myself slowly, I'd take up smoking." A smoker sitting near them glared at her, thinking the comment was directed at her, and harrumphed, strutting out pridefully. Beast Boy watched the girl go, then looked back at Raven, shrugging.

"I was just wondering, gosh." He went back to stuffing the large diameter sandwich in to his mouth. Raven rolled her eyes, a popular habit of hers, and went back to sipping her Iced Tea. Starfire finished off her meal, looking at her friends.

"Since we have paid the mother her 'cash', does this mean that things will return to their normal state? And that we will not be sad and will stop confining ourselves to our rooms like we had taken to doing?" she asked hopefully. Robin and Raven exchanged looks, as well as Beast Boy and Cyborg.

"Star…" Robin began, then stopped, sighing as he set his sandwich down. "…That's…kinda…"

"Obvious?" Beast Boy offered.

"Not exactly…" Robin murmured, wringing his hands in his lap. "I-I…I really think….that…." He looked to Raven for help, and she frowned, shaking her head. Beast Boy looked at Raven as well, and knit his eyebrows together in bewilderment.

"What are you talking about?" he asked of Robin, folding his arms across his chest, allowing one of his brows to elevate. "Of course things'll be back to normal again. So what if that happened? We need to move on!" He punched his fist into the air, grinning inspiringly at Starfire. "It was just a mere road-block and-"

"'Mere road-block'?" Raven repeated, looking at the Changeling. "Beast Boy, a kid's life was TAKEN. That's not mere, or minor. That's serious. Please." Beast Boy scowled.

"It's mere to us! We're the Teen Titans!" He brought his fist down on the table-top, causing everyone's food items to get a good couple inches of air, before landing down, scattered. "…Oops….But anyway…It's miniscule! We're TEENAGERS. It was an ACCIDENT! They HAPPENNN…"

Cy shook his head. "Not like that. Not to US. Damn, BB, we're cold-blooded murderers."

"If we are taken with the cold blood, then why did we attempt to rescue the boy?" Starfire asked, scratching the top of her head. All eyes fell on Robin, who had just answered his cell-phone. His normally tan skin faded to a light peach color; pale.

"Yes, Robin….?" Raven started, nudging the boy's knee. Robin's mouth opened as if to say something, and then it closed. He frowned, masked eyes drooping, and he lowered the flip-phone from his ear, closing it, and cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his uniform.

"Titans…" he addressed them, not like the casual 'guys'. "I've just received word from the government…Mrs. Flint has ordered that…we Titans….break up, and go our separate ways….and disappear in society…."

The 4 other teens froze. The true horror that they had known had been sneaking up on them had now just grabbed them, wrenching them from reality. This was it.


"Thanks, Bruce….I knew I could rely on you."

"Anytime, Dick."

Two males stood in front of a large mansion, the cool fall wind swirling around them. Both were dressed in a very uptight manner, hair combed back, wearing shiny leather black shoes and business suits. One seemed to be about 30 or so years old, and his chin-length ebony hair was gelled back, with a few stray strands framing his face and tickling his cheeks, showing off his piercingly icy blue eyes, with his navy blue suit to match.

The other had a grey suit, and graying brown hair. His eyes were a deep mocha, and he was quite broad-shouldered. He looked to be about 55 or somewhere along the lines of that, and his face had distinct frown wrinkles, suggesting that he was a serious a person.

He called the younger man 'Dick', saying "You're welcome to stay here until those repairs on your house are finished."

Dick sighed, patting down his hair. "Thanks, Bruce. But it brings back those memories…."

"You mean….THOSE memories?" Bruce suggested, pointing to his face. Dick caught on, and nodded, smiling a little in rememberance.

"Those were good times, don't get me wrong….but it's part of the reason why I'm so alone…if you know what I mean."

"I know exactly."


They embraced lightly, and then let go.

"Until the next time, you know how to reach me. I'll be in Florida with that old Cat woman," Bruce told Dick with a smile, heading towards his black BMW. Dick grinned, nodding.

"Bye, Bruce." He opened the front door to the mansion, descending inside. He took off the azure jacket from his suit, and hung it up on a coat-hanger, untying his black shoes. As soon as they had been kicked off nonchalantly against the entrance hall, he stretched, and smirked to himself.

No one was home, and Albert, the old butler, had died years before. It was just him. Just him.

For old times sake, Dick looked both ways, fingering his pant's pocket. He slid his index and middle finger inside slowly, and pulled out a thin triangular mask, holding it up so that the sunlight from the windows shone off of the slick surface. He looked both ways again, making sure, and pressed the mask onto his face, unbuttoning his shirt, seeing as it would constrict him from what he wanted to do.

Serious old Dick Grayson, it seemed, never had much fun. But when he was alone, he would reminisce about his old days. He was only 31, and yet he felt as old and used up as a 60 year old withering man.

As he looked both ways just one more time….he grabbed his coat off the coat hanger with such an anxious force, that the metal rod tipped over to the side, clanking as it fell to the floor. He tied the sleeves of the business-suit coat around his neck, creating a crudely made cape. He struck a pose, and cleared his throat, his raspy voice becoming more vibrant as he shouted, "TITANS GO!"

He began to roleplay this by himself, as he darted around the house, kicking 'evil-doing' trash-cans, and accidentally punching through the television set with an old 'bird-a-rang' that he had found. He went on a super-heroic rampage, ridding the large Bruce Wayne mansion of evil, and finally slumped against the wall of his bedroom, panting.

Dick smiled to himself, wiping the sweat off of his brow. "We did it again, Titans," he murmured distantly, before conking out into a tired slumber.


"Yes…..No….Maybe…..I do not know….Oh, Cain, you are so kind to me…."

The innocent-laced voice of a red-haired woman came from a blue-tiled kitchen in a regular suburban city house. The woman had unusually orange-tinted skin, and astounding emerald green eyes, and was sitting on a wooden kitchen chair, twirling a cherry-red telephone cord around her index finger. Her eyes rolled every so often, most likely to what was being said on the other end of the phone.

It was true that many people came up to her, squealing, and commenting her, saying she resembled that 'old Starfire-lady'. It continued to make her feel uneasy in the general public, and so she mostly stayed at home, watching the Soap Operas that one of her very distant, old friends had despised with a passion, and talked to her boyfriend, Cain Saunders.

Cain, who was a very manly man, with excessive muscle and hubris, was a tan-skinned, dark-haired 'gentle-man' whose idea of a great night was dropping by her house, drinking her beer and pigging out on the last of her food, but she, Kori, the red-headed beauty, had an admiration for watching those old Batman and Robin movies, hugging soft pillows that had once been across her bed when she was a teenager, and being sprawled across her plaid sofa.

It would be a lie to not mention that Kori was a very lonely woman, whom at the age of 31 still had not achieved her childhood dream of marrying a sex God and having numerous children. In fact, she had once met the perfect man, and had been so close to him, she could almost taste him, but life had to be so much like a roller-coaster, and their courses twisted and turned into different directions. She had lost all of her friends, and she had lived a lonely, in-debt life, until she had met Cain at 26.

She knew he disliked children, which was a big con for her, but he was the only one she had.

Hanging up the phone, Kori picked up a long cigarette elegantly with her thumb and index finger, lighting it, and breathing in the addictive smoke, seductively blowing out of the side of her mouth sadly. Inside, she was the same naïve girl that she had always been….but must she have resorted to this? Why couldn't she have made on Mr. Right and landed a happily-ever-after?

Why did the Rekmaas have to come?


"I know….I KNOW! I know I forgot our anniversary, dear….Aww….no…look….don't go saying that! Of course I care! I care! I really do!...Tara….! Please….no….aw, honey…."

An emaciated man with olive-green skin and forest green hair and eyes blocked the wooden front door of his house from the voluptuously thin body of his blonde-haired girlfriend, who wore thick-rimmed sun-glasses keeping her cerulean eyes hidden. She wore a magenta dress that clung to her body, and was covered in sparkles, with her right hip jutted out to the side, her left hand on her hip almost seductively, with her thin brown eyebrow raised over the rim of her glasses.

"Sorry, Gar, but I don't just stop when you tell me too, like your snooze button," Tara snapped, flipping her wavy blonde tendrils over her shoulder, standing in front of Gar. "Now let me leave. We don't want MORE trouble, do we?" She held her dagger-like finger-nails, which were painted pink, menacingly in his face, like she were about to claw out his eyes.

Gar swallowed, or rather, gulped, and looked at his girlfriend fearfully. "I'll make it up to you, sweetie…" he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll uh….Buy your favorite wine…and we can…….ya know…chill?"

"That is NO way to make it up to me!" Tara screeched, lowering her 'claw' to her side. She shoved the green man aside, flinging the door open. "I'll be seeing you LATER." With that, she slammed the door behind her, trekking off towards her bright red convertible.

Gar sighed, sliding down to the floor and massaging his forehead. Here he was…..age 30….with a babe of a girlfriend, and a huge house….an actor who had received a few good cameo roles…Yet he couldn't remember his own 8 year anniversary. He groaned, hitting his head against the wall a few good times, until he began to feel a bit woozy. He, like Kori, had given up the perfect 'special one' back in his old teenage day …a girl that Kori knew, unknown to both of them.

How many times had he caught himself thinking about the 'lost' girl, and not given Tara any credit? The answer is probably past infinity. Gar had to admit, no girl could ever match HIS crush in the beauty, knowledge, and…well….just about EVERY category. And now, she was probably happy, living with a husband….with 5 kids….all named after birds, probably…

The green man sighed, massaging his uncommonly large elf-shaped ears, and smiling distantly. He highly doubted that. She never seemed to be THAT type. He rose, scratching his gaunt stomach, and made his way into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door. Now was the time to move on.

Of course, he had said that to himself plenty of times before, over the past 13 years, and it turned out that he never did move on. And he probably never would. Gar pulled out the heavy jug of Soy Milk that he had bought a week before (since he had to do all the shopping for him and Tara), and unscrewed the cap, setting the gallon down on the makeshift wooden table, turning and reaching up to open the cupboard. Still as short as he always was, he had to lift one leg and put it on top of the counter, bringing the other up as well, which hoisted his middle. He peeped into the dark cupboard, and used a free hand that wasn't keeping him from falling to rummage around.

Gar brightened when he found a glass, and tugged his arm out, scowling when he saw the only clean one had already been claimed, for there were spider's eggs sticking to it…and being a supreme animal lover….he didn't want to murder unborn creatures. He sighed in defeat, jumping down and closing the cupboards, and set the glass to the side, plopping down into a crappy wooden chair….

But it seemed too crappy, for it collapsed beneath him, and his lonely bum hit the floor.


'Meg looked deep into Kyle's eyes, and they embraced, kissing each-other passionately. Finally, they had found love….

The End.'

"At least that's over." A pretty young woman, aged around 30, turned off her computer. She had shoulder-length, spunky lavender hair that was swept into a high pony-tail, strands hanging down around her face to and fro, and a black tank top and matching skirt. She wore thick black-rimmed reading glasses, which she proceeded to take off a moment later. However, the most striking feature would probably have to be her eyes, which were a true purple, with a few golden flecks here and there, which were brought out mostly by her almost anemic-looking pale skin, frosted in grey.

The plaque hanging on the wall beside her read 'RACHEL ROTH - BEST ROMANCE NOVELIST OF 2017'. She massaged her forehead, sighing tiredly. "Now, all I have to do is just submit this…" she muttered to herself. "If only it weren't the corniest shit in the world." Tossing a few old romance novels that were stacked beside the computer monitor, (all written by 'Rachel Roth', also known as herself) into the waste can beside her, she stood, and slid the sliding glass door open, stepping out onto the small 'balcony' of her condo. Rachel wrenched her hair band out of her hair, shaking her hair out and leaving small waves in it from being up in such a tight 'do.

Right then, the sun was setting, and it reminded her of the way most of her romance novels ended. But why, oh WHY couldn't her life be more like the ones she created and wrote of? Why couldn't she find a guy who could possibly be Mr. Right? …Was it because, indeed, she had MET Mr. Right, but had completely blown him off? Exactly. She had.

Rachel bent over, picking up an empty flask from where it had been laying, after spilling wet alcohol over the wooden planks of her balcony, and examined it. Hell, if Poe had used heroin as an inspiration to help him write, then hers was alcohol…but she wouldn't necessarily say she was addicted. She'd just say she liked it, and the way it affected her. She tossed the flask over the edge of the railing, and watched it spin and fall down to the pavement far below, and then proceed to get run over by an SUV.

Then she turned, and walked back inside, sliding the door closed securely and locking it, and flipping all of her lights off, closing every curtain, locking every window. At last, she undressed in her room, and slid on a black silk night-gown, climbing into her un-made bed. Her curtains were so thick, dark, and heavy, that they blocked out the vibrant colors of the sun-set outdoors. Smiling to herself diminutively, she rolled onto her side, closing her hooded eyes.

But something made her re-open them….and as soon as she did, she knew what. A small, framed photo, about 8" by 12", of a group of 5 teenagers. Each was smiling, even the dark-looking girl that resembled herself once at that young age. The dark-looking girl, with cross-angle cut lavender hair, not unlike her own, was being pulled close to a green-skinned, green-haired boy, who was grinning a grin large enough to situate a whale upon. The 5 teens looked happy….a feeling that Rachel hadn't felt for years. Her index finger slid over the green boy slowly, and almost affectionate sparkle twinkled in her eyes. She smiled sleepily, then turned off her night-stand's lamp, sliding under her quilt and chased sleep, until she got caught up in it herself.


"Now Vic….Make sure you take care of yourself, and little Natasha, my dear. I don't want you both to ….well….you know….."

A plump African-American woman with silvery-white hair was hugging her son-in-law, the tall, handsome, African-American named Vic. He held a small baby in his arms; a girl, who had black hair and dark brown, almost black, eyes. She blinked up at her father, and started gnawing on his hand.

"Will do, Rebecca," Vic said, kissing the top of the woman's head. "We'll be fine….I hope the rest of your holiday's good." He smiled grimly, and Rebecca sighed.

"I'll try my best to make it so…." She said, tickling Natasha's, the baby, chin. She turned and walked away, then climbed into her purple mini-van, waving frantically. Vic smiled distantly, waving back. Rebecca drove off, leaving him and Natasha on their own.

"Yep, just us now…" Vic said to Tash, setting her down in her crib. A few buttons on his shirt popped out when he sat down in the rocking chair beside it, and he groaned. Ever since his wife had died and left him alone, he had taken to eating more and more, and now looked almost like Fat Albert. He fingered the golden ring on his ring finger, and quickly slid it off. His body changed.

Metallic plates formed over his skin, and he became a robot-human hybrid. Not wanting to scare his daughter, he hastily slid the ring back on, and flexed his arms. Then he sighed, sitting back down on the rocking-chair.

What he really needed right now, was a tricky villain to come into town, threatening everything he held dear to him, so he could kick its sorry ass.


"So it's settled then, sir? We will call them in the morning?" An officer guard said, speaking to a balding, portly police-man, whom was sitting in a large leather chair.

He nodded solemnly. "We'll have to call them all back…we can't have these people running on a rampage….."

"Nothing like this has happened for 13 years…." The guard sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "It just feels…..strange."

"Don't worry, Jeff. The Teen Titans will reign again."


However, far off in a dark area, past midnight, a thin figure with cold pink eyes smirked, gesturing for two others, a large and small, to follow her. Smirking as the moonlight splashed onto her face, she whispered, "We'll end this silence…with just a little bang of an entrance…"

The growing sound of ticking came from behind this feminine figure, and she ran to the sidelines quickly, looking on. As the water seemed to sleep soundly, her two comrades had placed an underwater bomb in this oceanic area. The female now stood farther back on the beach, watching the faint red light that signified where they had placed the bomb grow brighter and brighter. The shorter comrade of hers tapped her shoulder.

"Let's bring them out of hiding."



Woo! Chapter 2! PARTYYY! -does the monkey- …wait…'does' the monkey….ewwww…that sounds like I'm doing a monkey…which is wrong…which….ewww…I'll never screw a monkey….-does the monkey DANCE-

Anyway, chapter 3 will be up…eventually…when the writers block dissipates again. n.n