Taz shifted softly, feeling nothing but empty sheets beside her. She remembered the previous night clearly, sitting with Hauter, trying to comfort him over the loss of his best friend. He was pretty cut up about it. It had been a long time since Carmichael Hauter had last been reluctant to sleep with anyone, but though he made the advance, his heart wasn't in it. Even so, he was pretty good, in her opinion. They had been at her house, and Carmichael was already gone.
Carmichael was at a gaol. "Raven Pure?" He asked a passing staff member, who took him to the head office. He bit his lip and knocked on the door, and a woman bid him enter. He ignored the urge to chat her up and sighed quietly. "I'm here to inform you about your employee, Benedict Electrolytic..."
Raven raised her head. "Inform me of what?"
"Of his...demise...we were travelling together at the time, you see, and..." He stopped, beginning to choke up. Raven gave a slight nod and waved him away. Him and Texas had gotten Electrolytic's body to a funeral parlour. He made a slow walk back to Taz' house, having left some stuff behind. When he got there, he clambered in through a window. He wanted to avoid her. It didn't exactly work out as planned, however, as he went through a door and almost collided with her straight on.
"I was wondering where you'd gone." She commented, smiling. Hauter bit his lip and almost automatically placed his hands on Taz' hips, drawing her close. "How'd you like last night?"
She hesitated a moment. She suffered from short-term memory loss, and her friend Nemone was always worried about her and what could possibly be causing the memory problems. "Yeah, it was amazing."
Carmichael had to agree. The girl was good, and now they would never so much as kiss again. "Just came to get my stuff, Taz." He told her matter-of-factly, going into the bedroom to gather up the last of his belongings. "Then I have to get some cats seen to. Benedict's cats won't live long now he's gone..."
Taz nodded. She was under the impression she would see Carmichael again, but the next day he had left the country, taken the first plane he could out of Australia. He didn't care where it brought him, just as long as it wasn't Australia.
Hiro Phantasmagoria had not been home for a long time. While he was a protector, he had a family that he made sure to visit at the very least once a week. It was almost a month past since his wife had seen him last, and she was worried sick. Hiro was not going to come home though. Not after the Necromancer girl had killed him in cold blood. Esurine Xoloitzicuintli stood by the bedroom window, watching the streets for a sign of her psychopathic husband. The long, purple trenchcoat, the dark hair and cream skin. Her love. But he would never return.
In Scotland, a girl with an amethyst in her pocket was slowly realising something. This gem was damaging her mind. She knew what it was doing. It was making her paranoid, making her see things, hear things that weren't really there. She had to get rid of it, and she knew just the way. Working with a new group of people looked like it might give her a new path. Arachne, the leader was called. All she had to do was pick an easily susceptible victim, and then she had her trap, all she needed was bait, which would be easy once the victim was chosen.
Elsewhere, Nemone and Martina survived, travelling place to place, adventure to adventure, using their wits and skills to survive and having a good joke around in the process. They were sat atop a roof of a building seemingly abandoned, but Martina knew it. Now the Protectors had disbanded, seeing as only two remained, they went back to their respective places. Martina returned home for a while before a teleporter and a group of blondes got her involved with something. Bayside had returned to a little medical base he ran with experimental treatments. That was the building they sat on top of. Sky Darkthunder was inside, against his will. Bayside had been angry for a while, and he had been taking it out on old friends.
Finally. Diamond sighed, sat in front of the television. He was watching old black and white things thst hr fifn'y erbem likr yhst mucfh. Before him, on the coffee table, sat stacks and stacks of research he was doing for several contacts. That was the life Diamond lived. He was an informant for others, and he saw plenty of bloodshed. As long as he stayed unharmed in the process, he was fine.
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