You CAN Go Home Again

August 26, 2014: Gar Logan goes to see if he still has a place with the Titans.

Titans Tower

Tee-shaped. Tall. On an island that isn't really an island because there's a short spit that connects it to land. Oh, and it's not really here. This whole area has been PATCHED by Chaos Magic. Lovely fruit-and-pop-rocks flavored Chaos Magic.



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Mood Music:

Afternoon at the Titans Tower. The brand spanking new, never-was-destroyed Tower. Keith O'Neil is having a bit of a congitive dissonance moment, since all of his stuff that was destroyed suddenly is no more. That is, it is, when it had been no more. Coming out of his room in his human form, he shakes his head trying to wrap his mind around what Wiccan had done… something that was far-fetched, even for a Cheshire cat.

"Well… it's going to be nice not having to sleep in shelters anymore," he mutters, heading over to the commons. Currently deserted, the room invites him to put himself at ease- which he does by taking off his shirt and laying on the couch, enjoying the reality of an air conditioned environment. Today is his day off, so relaxing is finally in the books.


A cute (by original design) little smrt cr (they take the vowels out to make them smaller) comes into the neighborhood, passing the pizza joint with the hard to pronounce name, and turning left to go down the road to the parking lot by the water.

There it is, on the island, Titans Tower. Garfield Logan feels a bit of a choke from nostalgia, a tingle of something … weird. Huh. He looks at his hands. The left hand is as green as ever. The right hand is red. Weird. It doesn't feel wrong or anything. Well. Time to go to the island and see if anyone's around. Maybe he can get a spot on this new team.

He turns into a seagull. Garfield Mark Logan Seagull, just like in that hippy book from the 1970s. He catches the wind, and swings down to the tower, landing by the entrance in a swirl of red feathers returning to red skin.

"What the … why do I have two sets of memories?" he says.


Television. The opiate of the masses. After the week he's had, Keith feels like getting buzzed in that sense- not wanting to think much, just watch. So the television turns on, and he stretches on the couch and yawns a little. Maybe a nap will do him good. He bunches up his shirt and puts it under his head as a pillow. Ah yes, rest. Relaxation.


Gar looks at his hands. Still red. Weird. Still a weird echo of someone else's memories, but they don't really make sense. He's still himself, still remembers his parents, the Team of the Doomed, everything. He's just the Other Christmas Color. Oh well.

He walks up to the front door, hoping that it will recognize him. The tower from years ago had some exciting defenses. He presses the doorbell.



"Sup Dude?" The Flash says as he zips around the living room in manic speeds, looking for a snack. "What's up?" "Taking a load off?" "You look comfortable." "What's new?" Sweet release. He finds the candy bar and takes a seat criss-cross apple sauce on the ground. "Doorbell. Not it."


The young redhead opens a bleary eye when Flash hits him with ten lines at once, and then 'not it.' He sighs and slowly gets off the couch.

"Fiiiine, I'll get it."

He doesn't bother to put his shirt back on, making his way zombie-like to the door and pressing the controls to open it.

"MmyeshowcanIhelpyouwelcometothetitans…" he mutters, still trying to shake off the cobwebs from near sleep.


Gar wonders who the redhead is. NOT CHASE, which is very, very good. Also, not Roy.

"Uh, hi. Gar Logan. Changeling. Are you one of the new guys? Is Kid Flash around?"

He used the K-word. Ut oh.


The Flash pokes his head around the shoulder of Vorpal and goes eyebrows up so high it shows through his mask.

"Dude. I'm the Flash now. How long you been going, Beast Boy?"

The next moment he's slapping Gar on the shoulder, "Come on in! It's awesome to see ya!"


There are few things in life more embarrassing than coming face to face with your teenage crushes. Especially when you've been half asleep and barely conscious, and you probably look like hell.

"B-" Keith blinks a couple of times and steps back as Flash pokes his head out. "-saywhat?"


"Flash. Excellent. You finally had that Kid-ectomy you were wanting. I'm trying to switch to Changeling myself, the whole unusually-colored thing and being called 'boy' doesn't work so … Wait, wasn't this place blown up? It was on the news?"

Changeling (dammit) grins at Wally.

"We're both in red now. Though, I was green just a few minutes ago. What is UP with that?"

He lets himself be dragged inside, as it's where he was hoping to go anyway, and looks around. Yep. Still has that 'clubhouse' feel to it, but with a more grown-up snack bar, probably.


"Gang's all here," The Flash says as Gar makes his way in. "Well, on the team I mean. And by all I mean me and RavRav, but you know what I mean. Robin and Aqualad…Speedy too. They're no-gos."


Keith watches as the two interact and shuts the door behind Gar. When he asks the question about the tower being blown up and suddenly not, he blurts out, "-a wizard did it…" breath. "I mean, our wizard did it. Made the tower come back. I mean."


Gar nods, looking a bit disappointed at Dick and Garth and Roy being too grown-up for the Titans. Maybe Starfire? That would… probably not be OK without Dick to distract her. Ah well.

"So I spent three years solid being a total nerd except for doing cartoon voices, got my bachelors in Biology, discovered there's absolutely nothing you can do with a BS in Bio, came back out here to go to ESU to work on my Masters. But then I saw you guys were starting up. You got any openings for a master of animal goodness?" His spiel is more practiced than it was when he was younger, anyway.

(sound of record scratching) "Wait, you have a wizard on the team? Woah. Awesome."


The Flash laughs, "Yeah, man, there's always a place for you. I'll get you a key to one of the rooms. You got stuff?" He shrugs, "If you were only a nerd for 3 years, then you're totally full of it. You've been a nerd since well before the day we met."


Flash always seems to pummel through most conversations the same way that he runs- onwars in a straight line and impossibly fast. Keith does a mental sprint to keep up. "Er, I'm Vorpal by the way. Or Keef. I mean Keith. I'm new. Flash found me in a ditch."


"I was a part-time nerd before. Three years of school, man." Gar shrugs. "A little stuff. I've got my dorm room for fall term, because nothing says Grad School like living in a dorm room, right?"

He grins at Keith, all white teeth and that weird underbite fang thing going on. "Good to meet you, Keef," and holds out a (red? WHY IS IT RED?) lightly furred hand, with claws and such carefully tucked away for handshake.



"Why are you red?" asks the Flash.


Keith finds himself smiling back despite himself, and takes Gar's hand. Red hand. There's something unusual about that- after all, as a teen he had collected all of the posters. Even the swimsuit ones, and there was no red anywhere. "I used to watch your sho—" he's interrupted by Flash, who asks the question.

Thinking about it for a second, with Gar's hand still in his, he looks at the red critically, forgetting himself. "… this is odd." Full cat curiosity engaged, he turns the hand over to examine it until Gar chooses to pull it away.

"Flash, maybe when Wiccan did his… reality etch-a-sketch thing that he did, maybe some of that altering magic lingered around the area?" He frowns. He hasn't felt anything himself—- and he's pure chaos magic. Usually something like that goes down, he's the first to know.


"Wiccan is the wizard? Huh. Might explain why there's leftover bits of someone else's memories in my head too," Gar says. "It's funny, I had a while as a kid where I could turn into stuff that wasn't green. Was just easier to be green, Kermit songs or not."

He shrugs. "Red is kind of cool too. Nature Red in Pelt and Claw. Yeah, I know not the way it goes."

He lets Keith examine his hand, slowly morphing cat claws, then shifts them to bird talons, then to alligator … still red.


"It's a good look. If you and your old self got together every day would look like Christmas, yo." The Flash flops down on the couch next to where Keith was sleeping earlier. He feels something under his behindVorp's shirtand reaches to pull it out and throw it over the couch.


Keith lets out a surprised laugh at the morphing, and then lets go of Gar's hand.

"Sorry. Curiosity. It doesn't hurt or anything, does it?"

He looks at his shirt and blushes, feeling as if he was caught being a slob before guests (or, well, future residents), he scoops up the shirt and squeezes into it.

"Sorry… you caught me in my downtime."


"Nah. It fizzes a little, but I'm used to it. I also do figure modeling, but not mermaids," Gar says. "No really, I got paid to turn into animals for art class, it was great."

Changeling doesn't seem to mind the shirtlessness, but then his manners tend to be somewhat naturalistic if he's not in public. He pulls out his driver's license. The picture there is green. Huh.


"Good way to make some money," The Flash says absently as he fishes for the remote. "I'm still just fixin cars. Can do it real quick and make decent money. It aint modelin'. I'm all working class."


"You're a mechanic?" Keith blinks. And then he realizes something.

"Whoa, guys. I know you two have history and whatnot, but you're forgetting you haven't told me your secret identity, man." Keith reminds Flash, sitting down on the couch.

"Just to make sure you don't let something slip out when you're not intending it to. And I swear that was not meant as a dirty joke."


"I don't really HAVE a secret identity, except that right now I'm Red Logan, which is entirely new. I mean, I bet you watched my lame TV show and laughed at the lines like everyone else," Gar says, grinning again. He starts doing lines, mimicking the acting voices.

"Mr. TORK, go scout that rise!"

"Yes, Captain! SKREEEE flap flap flap. Flap flap flap. Nothing there Captain! (Why didn't you just use the ship's cameras?)"


Wally's white lens seems to get bigger as he looks over at Gar, "Dude. That's a talent. I dunno if it's a great talent, but it's a talent. You do any heroing on the side?"

Also: "Dude, yeah, I'm a mechanic. You didn't know that? There's about 10 million of us in the rust belt. Good luck figuring out which one I am. I'm the really fast one."


Keith smirks, "Fair, fair," he nods to Flash. And then to Logan, he laughs "Actually, I watched it all the time… I always did wonder why they just didn't use the sensors. They probably fell through a plothole and got damaged."


"Are you really gonna make him have to punk you to get your ID, Flash? Because, I don't know what a Vorpal is, but it says 'snicker-snack' to me, and I don't mean candy bars," Gar says, laughing. "Whatever though, that's up to you guys. Keef, the writers had a drinking game, bad science, take a drink, no budget for a bit of hardware, take a drink, Tork turns into a mongoose, take two drinks. That was why you could tell when in the week they wrote the dialogue. They dried them out on Thursday and Friday, had the weekend off, and then BAM! Back to the typewriters and back to the bottles."


"That's two of us now that you won't understand," The Flash says with a smile and leaving the whole secret identity thing up on the table. He rises to his feet, "I gotta get home to my mom's for dinner. Tonight is roast night. You ain't ever had roast till y'had my momma's roast. Stay breezy cheezies." And then, as quick as he was there, Wally's gone.


"See ya, Flasher, try not to—-" and he's gone. Keith watches Flash leave, and hehs.

"Well… that explains a lot of the writing on the show. As for what's a Vorpal… well, I'm one. You'll just have to wait until I change shape to see for yourself, though."

He takes advantage that Flash vacates the couch to lay on his side on it.

"Man… so you're going to be part of the team, then? That's a little surreal."


"Sure, if you'll have me," Gar says. He grins, turning into a HUGE Newfoundland dog. Red. Dog. He sits down dog-style to watch the television.

"Look, I'm Clifford! What's on TV?"


Keith chuckles and raises an eyebrow. "If I'll have you?"

Oh, all the openings for humor.
"You had better not have fleas. Is what I'm sayin'. Because they're contagious."


Gar grins a doggy grin. "I can BE a flea but I don't invite them. Pretty easy to get rid of, I just turn into something they can't eat."

He gets up and walks through the lounge area sniffing for where Flash hides his snacks. Man. All the wrappers, none of the candy bars. It's just like old times.


"If you're looking for food…" Keith says, sitting up after watching the dog sniff around, "There should be a full set of groceries in the refrige— " a pause.

He stands up.

"Unless Flash has gotten to them. Wanna go on a recon mission, Mr. Tork?" he says, shutting the TV off. "I haven't eaten since last night."


Gar stands up as a human again. Where he puts his clothes? One of those mysteries.

"Sure thing. Hey, how do you guys get on and off this island? I flew, but … is there a tunnel or something??"


Leading him to the Kitchen, Keith looks over his shoulder. "… you didn't look at the south end, I take it? There's a stretch of land that connects to the mainland. Wide enough for a car to come through, that's how Waller got her ass onto our property." He steps into the kitchen, looking through the cabinets. "… you know, you're carrying your color change rather well. I'd be freaking out."


"Already lived through this once, man," Gar says. "I was like six years old. Was with my parents in Africa, they were doing animal diversity studies, and I got sick with this weird virus that only green monkeys got. My folks took me to a guy they knew who lived near where we were, they went to school with him in England. He used an herbal thing to cure me, but I ended up getting triggered. Started turning into animals, and turned green. Awesome, huh?"

He looks through the cabinets as well, tsking.

"Man. OK, Flash-proofing 101. Buy granola bars by the case, those snickers minis by the bag, and sugar sodas. The kind without caffeine, like cheap orange or red flavored."


"Oh god, those things? They're vile— they taste like DDT and monkey sweat." Keith sticks out his tongue, shaking his head. "How can he eat that?"


"Sugar. Fuel. He needs the fuels. They used to make a really high-fat granola bar but the health nuts freaked out. I can only drink those sodas by turning into a hummingbird, or a fruit bat, or a honey badger," Gar says. "We could make the granola bars but … that was a different time, man."

Man. We were all hippies then. Wonder Chick. Speedy. Aqua-dude. Wonder Chick. Why did she not PUNCH Robin for that one?


"Ah, I see. Accelerated metabolism and stuff like that." Keith nods. "Bodies are strange things, I'll grant you that. When I'm in my other shape, it's a whole different level of perception… though I can't really remember exactly what it's like when I transform back."


"Oh? I'm not sure I'd be comfortable like that," Gar says, finding several dozen packets of ramen. Flash appears to avoid ramen. Probably takes too much time.

He turns into a mouse and goes behind the fridge, then comes out the other side.

"Man, there's no spiders back there but there is a scary looking thing."


Keith laughs. "You're something else." He kneels and looks at Mouse Gar. "Did you find one of those creepy centipedes?"


Gar swells up to cat size and shape. "No, something weird," he says, "HISSSS!"
A set of three long hairy legs, forking out into six smaller hairy legs, slaps the wall from behind the fridge. There are eyeballs at the fork joints.


"What on earth…" Keith takes a few steps back. Almost on reflex he looks at the reflective surface on the fridge— reflective enough for him to see his own eyes.

"We're All Mad Here"

And now there are two cats in the room. One of them is purple, musclebound and upright.

"Gar, get back here…"


Gar swells up to tiger-size and grows stripes. Red tiger looks scary. He skitters back away from Weird Thing.

The eyeballs blink and the arms pull BACK behind the fridge, and something skitters around.


"…I don't think Raven keeps pets, so there goes one explanation," Vorpal says. He sighs and leaps up, landing on top of the fridge.

"This is probably a very, very stupid idea," he says, and attempts to peer behind the fridge. Thank goodness the ceiling isn't low.


Several eyeballs peer back, then flinch away. It hiss-squeak-growls, and legs flex as it leaps from the back of the refrigerator into the wall… INTO the wall, leaving it untouched behind.

"WHAT was that?" Changeling growls, padding forward. He slaps the wall hard and the skittering goes off into the distance somewhere. There's no actual space long enough for it to recede in the direction it sounds like it's going though.


"I don't know, but it can phase through walls. Like that mutant I met the other day." Vorpal leaps off the refrigerator, landing on his feet, and starts running out of the kitchen, in the general direction that 'the thing' went into. "C'mon!"


Gar chases at first, but he stops, sniffing.

"I don't smell it over here."

He starts running again, chasing wherever Vorpal went.


"You won't smell it, likely because it is phasing. It won't leave anything behind that you can identify… but listen for skittering." The Cheshire runs, perking his ears.


There is no sound of skittering. Not in the hallway nor room, and it's only one more to the outside, where it doesn't appear to be.

"Did it go up then?" Changeling asks.

Tigers don't really chase things, not if they're out of sight. They hunt them. Sniff. Listen.


Vorpal frowns. "Only one way to find out. To the rooftop!" He leaps and sprints.


Changeling jumps out the window, grows a hawk bill and wings and eagle-claws on his back feet and leaps into the air. Gryphons can still hear and scent, after all. He flies upwards, looking for Hairylegs mcEyeballjoints.

Still no sign of it on the way up.


"Okay… he wins," the Cheshire cat mutters as he races up stairs. He wishes his Rabbit Hole powers worked outside of line-of-sight… but he's not complaining. He used them the other night to make a Demon slap himself. Totally worthwhile.

~This is… kind of awesome. You're teamed up with Beast Boy~
~Changeling. He goes by Changeling now~
~Ohoho, you made a note of that, didn't you?~

And the rooftop. It has a breathtaking view of the bay… and, currently Vorpal, but nothing else.



Gar lands and turns back into a human. With a cat tail and ears, because why not, he can do that and it might make this guy comfortable.

"Want me to see if I can turn into one of whatever it was?" Gar asks. He's expecting the usual "NO!" that he got from the other Titans when he offered such things in the past.


Vorpal looks at Gar's tail and ears, and quips, "Right now, somewhere, there is a fanboy who would have a coronary to see you like that, and I'm the lucky one who gets the view. Want a bell for your neck?"

He laughs, and shakes his head.

"No, thank you. That thing had more legs than I'm comfortable with. Tell you what… wait until Flash gets back, then you can scare the shit out of him!"


"Right. Check it on my own later. Also what makes you think I don't have a bell? And where's yours?" Gar teases.

"C'mon, I'm hungry now and there's no food here. What you want to get?"

He heads for the door to the downwards.


"Right. Here." He snaps his fingers and a collar and a bell appear around his neck. It's illusion, of course, but Gar doesn't know that.

"I don't know… I'm up for anything. But wait—" he reaches out and grabs Gar's shoulder. "Shouldn't I change back?"


"Probably, if we're going to be in public. I mean, I don't want to blow my secret identity or anything," Changeling says with a slightly sarcastic tone.

"No, seriously, do you want Keef to be public knowledge? Are you ready for him to be seen with the Green Guy, or possibly Red if this doesn't wear off?"


"… I don't mind being seen with you at all— " Vorpal hehs, and rubs the back of his neck and tries to recover fast, "— I was just concerned, y'know, that you'd take offense at not being the sexiest cat on the block anymore." He struts past Gar towards the door, "I mean, red and green are cool, but purple is for royalty!"


"Why do you think I'm wearing it?" Gar asks, indicating the purple and white outfit that looks like it might be sportswear, or not. He rabbits down the stairway, bouncing off the walls all the way, and lands as himself at the ground floor. He walks to the door, and it blinks green for him instead of red like before — so clearly, Flash added him during his leisurely 0.02 second amble to the door earlier.

"What is the airspeed of … wait, I mean, what're you wanting for food?"


"I'm up for anything. Something with meat would be good," when Vorpal reaches the landing, he walks over to Gar and gives him a look over, taking his outfit into consideration.

"… That's true." He observes the purple. "I knew you had good taste."

He's definitely more confident as Vorpal. Perhaps it is because cats are so self-centered that the sole conceit that they may be disliked is entirely unconceivable to them.

"Speaking of good taste… it's nice to meet your acquaintance. I watched you all the time when you were on the air." He leads the way out the door.


"Yes, that's what Keith said, and it's good to meet my fan," Gar replies, wondering just how congruent this guy really IS with the human side. He realizes that his cr (it came without vowels, remember?) is parked kind of on the wrong side of things, as he sees where the spit running back to land is. Also, that thing might be underwater sometimes! Yipe!

"Can you follow me over the water?"


Vorpal chuckles. "Gar, I'm Keith. And he's me. Well… we're neither. Keith doesn't really exist, not anymore. I'm a new soul that was the result of the merging of two souls. But I have both of their memories…" He tilts his head.

"I can Rabbit Hole us there. Just point to where you want to go and I'll take us."


"Yeah, but he said he doesn't really remember what it's like being you," Gar notes. He points to the parking lot across the water.

"There. See the little blue and white smrt cr? That's mine. Tiny but small."


"No, no, I don't remember what it feels like to have expanded senses. Right now I can hear better than ever, and I can see better than ever in the dark. My sense of smell, though, it's damaged. The Yellow Emperor placed the magic seal of binding on my nose, you see, back when I was bound to the mirror. That is, back when one of my previous selves—- it's complicated." He steps forward and puts a purple arm around Gar's waist.

"Fasten your seatbelt," he says.

And then the earth beneath them disappears. It's a portal, definitely, and they fall through it—- only to emerge on the parking lot, upside-down. Vorpal's developed a habit out of traveling this way, and so he uses momentum to flip himself and Gar around, their gathered momentum causing them to slow down before coming down to earth, the Rabbit Hole closing before their feet touch the concrete.



"WHOA! Ah, you're a roller coaster! Nice!" Gar says. "Now will my shrunk-in-the-wash car hold the total awesomeness of both of us?"

He unlocks the car and hops in. It's like riding in a top hat, or a tall bowler.


"Confined in close quarters with you. I'll try to bear it."

Vorpal slinks into the car— he's a little on the broad shouldered side of it, but at least he's not Hulkling.

"… This car is certainly an experience. I am having womb flashbacks."


"You should've seen the sub that Vic made," Gar grins. "It was just easier for me to be a fish outside than ride inside."

The odd little machine has a sort of get up and move, in cities, because it's smaller and lighter than is reasonable. They pull up outside a cafe off Midland (note: Darina Cafe) … "Ever had Russian Seafood before?"


"Never! But I think it should be fantastic. In this form, I have a predilection for seafood." Vorpal squeezes himself out of the car and stretches.


"By the way," Gar says, "I just got a residuals check for the terrible tv show, so I'm buying, because it should just about cover two people's dinner."

After disembarking he clicks the lock button and talks to the host - seating is not tight today, fortunately. Sometimes there are reservations.


"So does this make it a date, then?" Vorpal teases. He looks around— there are, of course, some people looking in his direction. He's not bothered by it, though- Gar has some past as a celebrity. And, let's be honest, he himself is walking into the restaurant in full hero suit and his unusual coloration and physiology.

"Well, at least there are no paparazzi. I had someone try to snap a picture of me while I was chasing some bank robbers. Nearly blinded me and I ended up kissing a light pot."


"I hope it didn't slap you for that," Gar says, as they're seated. Hey, you never know with someone who's as unusual as the Cheshire Cat. It could be like his friend Danny. Kissing a lamppost on Danny the Street might get you a date, or a fire hydrant might choose to cool you off.

"But yeah, I know what you mean about the helpful press guys. I had a couple of them who were so persistent that I had to accidentally catch them between me and my target one day when I was being a giant skunk."

He grins at the memory. Oh, and by the way, ever since they got to shore? Gar's been green again.


"You're green again," Vorpal says, sitting down. "… I like that color on you."

Well, to be fair, it was the color he's always seen him in. He makes a point of making sure to pull Wiccan aside and ask him about what exactly was it that he did at the Tower. The Cheshire, being a creature of magic himself, is now convinced that Billy's weaving probably has created some sort of… thin quality in reality in the area. It's the only way he can explain the creature that they saw, and Gar turning like that.

"A skunk? Good job. At least you have brand recognition… the other day someone thought I was Snagglepuss. Don't you laugh."


Gar can't help it; he laughs.

"Sorry man, but you totally could play him on Broadway," he says.

He orders something involving steak and many things with shells that once lived in the ocean and are now going to be his dinner. Also, pasta and vegetables. Omnivore, omn nomn.


"Yeah, yeah, and you can be my agent. By the way? Fair warning—- you're going to forget me."

Vorpal waves a hand after he orders, "No, hear me out. I'm dead. Technically speaking. I am not supposed to be alive. The Tiger In The Mirror manipulated some chaos… to alter things. Keith was supposed to die, and he didn't, and instead he ended up merging with the Tiger in the Mirror. That's the short version of it. The thing is… the universe sometimes goes 'Oh, yeah! He's supposed to be dead!' and like a total ass, it makes everybody forget I exist. They don't even see me."

He leans back on his chair and sips on a glass of water.

"This lasts for… oh, about a day or so. Next day everything is fine- except I usually get fired or fined at work for not showing up, because the universe goes back to being its usual self and, hey, nobody remembers seeing me that day. No call no show, right?" the Cheshire smirks.

"So… you're going to forget me one day, and the next day when you suddenly wonder where the hell I was… remember this story. You'll know I probably was right there by your side at the Tower, but you just didn't see me. 'cause I don't exist," he winks.


"So… you're kind of like that thing that Wiccan did to bring back the Tower?" Gar says. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'll remember having dinner tonight when the credit card bill comes back, but seriously, how do you forget the Cheshire Cat?"

He's skeptical. He'll probably forget the who, but maybe not the what - his own existence is kind of weird, given that he's attuned to the template for animal life everywhere in the Universe. There's probably a template for Vorpals out there, given that he needs to eat and drink and so forth. And isn't that a terrifying thought.


Vorpal smiles and leans forward and pats Gar's hand. "It's something like that. I've no control over it, nor does anyone else. Maybe Wiccan can fix it… but I'd rather not ask, in case he ends up wiping me out of existence by mistake. It's ok… I'll take advantage of that situation to do an underwear raid in the tower." He reaches for his glass of water, "I'll switch your underwear with Raven's, it'll be glorious. You're obviously a thong man."


"Do not do that. Seriously. Her underwear is too small. WAY too small," Gar says, deadpan serious, neither confirming nor denying the rumor of thong.

"Also, soul-devouring blackness darker than intergalactic space is not my color."

He starts on the black rye bread on the table. Gnar. Devouring blackness darker than intergalactic space, indeed.


Vorpal watches Gar beginning to gnaw on the bread, and smiles to himself.

"Well, she's not a bad girl. I just wish she had another mode than 'hate your guts'…" He reaches for the bread, and stops.

"Oh… and Gar? Thanks for the meal." There's something about Gar's personality that is disarming, and he's enjoying himself thoroughly after the week and a half he's had.

"When I get myself a better job, I'll do you an equal turn and take you out for food somewhere. Won't be as fancy, but it'll have character, that I can promise."

Well, character, and maybe a few health code violations. But that's what makes some of the Bronx pizzerias have that special je ne sais quoi.

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