They say freak
When you're singled out
- 'The Red', Chevelle -

British Rule was having a very very bad night.

"C'mon, get on with it, Rule!" his partner spoke as her well manicured foot sent his favorite hat flying to the plush bile colored hotel carpet.

"I've got an itch only you or a smooth rubber broom handle can fathom!"

Snipe just wouldn't leave him be.

*sigh*

All he needed was some rest before their next venture, and the few moments he spent sitting cross-legged on the double bed before Snipe piped up was simply not enough.

"Oh, come on!" she begged as she crawled forward on the bed, her face peered up into his with lips pursed in that little girl fashion that could melt the heart and arouse the libido simultaneously.

He grunted his displeasure.

She slunk off the bed and came up behind British all the while shedding that nights uniform which consisted solely of a sheer black body stocking.

He found her too high maintenance and about twice as much useless as his previous partners.

Snipe pressed her bare breasts against his back, her nipples poking through the thin material of his white undershirt along with fine, silken gray fur passing between the loose knit fibers.

"PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!"

Pain.

"Give over", he finally rasped.

He only wished her pain.

"Dost it speak?" she chided, whilst running one hand down his shirt and another down his trousers.

But she was an indeed an odd creature.

"Stop it."

The bestial side of the woman reveled in the sensations of pain.

"Dost mine personage must spell it out for thine heathen ears?"

Once again she mocked the way he spoke. He remembered her laughter when he first explained the reason he wore the half helm under his fedora.

"Snipe..."

Shadow-shifting was a rather painful process, albeit quick and rather efficient.

"So does that mean you'll take off the helmet this time?" she cooed.

The beryllium alloy that lined the inside of his archaic accessory assuaged most of the pain of the shifts, save the occasional migraine.

"Shut up."

And Snipe was always one to take advantage of his fragile state spurring him on, coercing one of her many favorite boudoir scenarios.

"I like it when you're so -- OOF!"

Rule smashed the back of his armored skull into her face just stunning the were-woman long enough for him to reposition their bodies with him bringing his full weight to bear on her smaller frame.

"Scream", he hissed this one last command as he grabbed her just above the elbows and wrenched her arms behind her back.

Ars Magna #2
"Cold Brains"
(Schoolyard Blues: Prelude)
by Matthew Cavazos

*A Week Later*

Testing.

She absolutely dreaded testing, of any sort. Blank lines, empty boxes, white bubbles, they were all against her. There they sat on half full pages of white paper filled with words -- questions, that would gauge her worth.

Sheila gave the administrator her weakest smile as she handed in the dreadful thing that would determine her place at the recently constructed school. The woman took the testing materials and slid them, without looking, into a folder manila envelope who's sole defining characteristic was Sheila's name written in the classic last name first format.

The girl slumped back in her seat and sighed, inhaling the ever familiar scent of newly painted walls, as the administrator excused herself from the large conference room that served as her 'testing environment' leaving the newly enrolled student alone with her thoughts.

Like most modern buildings in Australia this one had air conditioning and the constant temperature of 72 degrees was giving her a major case of goose-bumps, seeing as how its almost twenty degrees warmer outside. Even her new home had it. She crossed her arms and tried her best to warm herself but to no avail.

Her mind wandered hoping against hope to forget the torturous fingers of cold that crept through the thin material of her embarrassing matching blouse and shorts set with their hideous hot pink and baby blue stripes. She sighed, thankfully, that the current school quarter was already over and the next half of the school year was to begin in a week giving her plenty of time to gather appropriate clothing befitting a girl beginning her first year of secondary schooling.

Albeit she was starting rather late in the year. This was due in part to Paul's new job in Cottered coupled with her mother's half assed idea to not let her enroll in any institution while they still lived within the confines of Pacific City. Her excuse being so Sheila would not become "attached" to whatever school she would've ended up in making the move oh so harder for her daughter.

The obvious truth being Sylvia would've had to drive her daughter to and from school every weekday and she would have none of the drudgeries of motherhood hamper her newfound obsession with imported British daytime dramas.

She let her toes squirm within her obscenely bright lime green tennis shoes.

The girl sighed and reflected on the fact her mother, whom once worked for the illustrious Burke Fashions, gave little care to what she dressed her own daughter up in.

Paul.

Yes, Paul would take her around to one of the shopping centres in Cottered and help her pick out something nice for her to wear on her first day.

She shivered with excitement over the thought.

On second thought the shivering could be more attributed to the growing cold of the room. Sheila began to panic once she was able to see her breath form little clouds of vapor as she exhaled.

'Not again', Sheila thought as her thoughts began blurring into recent memory of a cold, blank expanse...

"Can you imagine Six Million Millennium Men coming to Earth, our Earth and just fucking our little world up, huh?", Magenta asked his dazed apprentice.

Sheila's head shook side to side erratically as she gained her bearings. She brushed an errant strand of her overly long bangs that had managed to stick her right in the eye upon her sudden arrival.

"And I mean seriously, 'Ura God'? That's one god awful name, if you ask me. Excuse the pun", he took another drink of the amber coloured fluid from his shot glass, yet this time, when he breathed, she couldn't detect a trace of alcohol on him.

Maybe she was beginning to adjust to this 'plane' a lot faster than she thought.

"I take it your not here for my company now are you?"

"Uhm no, Magenta -- sir."

Johann just sat there for a moment as if mulling over her acknowledgement with careful measure.

"Is the booze aging me beyond recognition? Do the women of the world not completely gauge my 'groove' anymore? Am I a fucking englishfied asshole librarian sonnuvabitch who sits around on rainy days thinking about the wife and son who I fucking left behind?"

She stared in utter disbelief at him as he stood up from his barstool with a grimace of pure disgust spread across his visage.

"DO I LOOK LIKE A 'SIR' TO YOU?"

Tears began forming in her eyes.

"Oh, fuck me."

She tried her best to hold them back.

"Turn off the water works."

Slowly they trickled down her lightly freckled cheeks.

"Please?"

Seeing her this way almost broke his heart.

"Now come on, what is it that brought you back here when I explicitly told you to not to do so anytime soon?"

Almost.

She wiped her face with a napkin that the waitress slid to her from across the bar. Sheila nodded a solemn thanks to faceless woman as she turned away to wait upon the rest of the featureless patrons that populated their surroundings.

"I -- I needed to know some things."

"Things?"

"Yea, about my past. Well, my parent's past, I mean."

"Well you're in the right place."

"I know that but I'd like..."

He cut her off, hopefully dodging some long winded and childish plea for assistance.

"So what exactly about your parents?"

"My dad. You know like who he is? Where he is?"

"Why he left you behind, that sort of thing?"

"Yes, Mr. Magenta."

"You and me both, kid."

"What?", she asked.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Anyway that's a tall order and I'll help you, alright, but first -- you gotta go back."

"Back?"

"Yup, you're scores are coming in and good luck with the Latin classes you'll need to know it for later, much much later."

She began shutting her eyes to will herself back into consciousnesses when...

"And don't call me Mister, alright? Your making me feel old before my time."

"Uh, sure thing."

She had a painful awakening as she found herself cradling her right hand the top of the skin felt very warm as it throbbed rhythmically to her quickening pulse.

"Sonnuvabitch!", Sheila exclaimed surprising both herself and the administrator.

It seems Magenta may have passed on more than just knowledge onto his young charge.

"We'll not tolerate that kind of language young miss nor midday napping. A young woman such as yourself should get a regular nights sleep if she is to keep up with the curricula of the Clifford B. Jerrod Academy", the older woman snapped as she placed a ruler down onto the conference table.

Sheila continued to rub the back of her hand as the stinging sensation wore away.

"I'm sor... wait, did you say Jerrod?"

"Yes, the Mayor of Pacific City donated most of the funds for this school during his election campaign as part of his emphasis on education as a way to decrease the amount of street level crime in the metropolitan area."

"Former Mayor of Pacific City", Sheila corrected.

The test administrator glared at the young girl.

"Your test results have returned and it seems you've been hiding your potential. All your past test scores have been considerably low compared to how you tested on this entrance exam. I've spoken to Ms. Barrington, the principal, and it appears you qualify for the Fast Track Programme meaning you'll be taking University prepatory courses."

Sheila sat their wide eyed seemingly overwhelmed with trepidation.

"With the older students, of course", the prudish instructor added icily.

The last thing Sheila wanted to do was to alienate herself any further from the student her new school. Being the new girl was bad enough but being younger than the rest of them, possibly even the youngest in her classes, at some hoity-toity 'academy' did not bode well for her.

"So here's some important documents for you and your parent to go over, included is a list of courses you've been assigned. Normally students get the chance to select the educational path they'll be taking but due to the circumstances of your late arrival you've no choice in the matter. Now shall I call your mother to pick you up?"

Sheila took the sealed packet and just sat there, silently, for a moment staring down at the yellow envelope on her lap.

"Well?"

"It's fine. I'll walk it home."

"What?"

"It's not too far, maybe two - three miles. Besides I happen to like a good walk, and I haven't really taken the time to look around Cottered since I moved here."

"Have it your way then Miss Torrance, I better see you bright and early at the beginning of the new semester."

"You will, ma'am."

And with that Sheila made her way out of the conference room, past the offices and through the various corridors of the administration building with nary a person in sight. She stopped at the front door and without looking absently reached with her right hand for her umbrella. Confident no one was around to catch her she let the black and metal tipped accessory drift up from the coat hook it hung from and float slowly towards her open palm.