He was over 500 years old. His father had been a lord in Transylvania. He had tried to follow in his footsteps, expanding their rule and strengthening borders in Wallachia. He had intimidated many, with a pike and a body. Sometimes, he did not even need a body. Sometimes a wooden stake in the ground would suffice, in place of the pike. The important thing was using a head. Not one’s head. Never your own head, but… someone’s head.

He had fought against many. Magicians in France, insane people who claimed themselves lord of the undead. Hunters, who chased him for simply living his life. They found him, killed him, and he survived. They wrote a book, bragging of their success. It had been greatly exaggerated. Since then, several writers had come and gone, using that mythos. His legend. Extolling the virtues of garlic, the power of a wooden stake. Laughable. One did not turn to dust. It was a pause. Held in place, no movement, no healing. In time, he might either and decay. But remove the stake, and he would revive. So long as he had a head. To kill with a stake? Laughable. Also, his kind never glittered in the light of the sun. He had sent letters. No replies.

The man chuckled to himself as he boarded the subway. The memory of his firm looming over the author, his feast after tracking her down. It was sweet. But now, he hungered. It was after dusk, around nine on a Monday. The car he entered was half full. Many attractive women were on board.

His black suit was musty. Like the grave. The cowl of his cape was pointed, inner lining, red. The soles of his shoes were thin. He flexed his toes in them. New shoes were needed. 100 years was a long time for wear to enter into a shoe. Maybe he would take from his next victim. Yes. He liked to take. Deserved. After all, he was a count.

—

Some blocks away, police were standing by the broken front window of a shop that sold costumes. Earlier that night, someone had broken and entered. The owner said the only theft had been—

—

“… count on you to send your best agent?” Doctor Acula had a nervous cadence to his voice. His accent was thickly European. Hungarian, Romanian, maybe? No. With the way he put emphasis on the second to last syllable, pronounced certain letter sounds, and changed others… polish.

“Yes.”

“Prisoner 666 is dangerous, absolutely. A mutant with supernatural strength and endurance, he is a man child. A psychopath,” pronounced psy kopath. “Meester Drake thinks he IS the title character from the bram stoker novel. Yes. He thinks he is—“

—

D R A C U L A. The cover on the young woman’s book read. She looked up, and saw one.

“Freak convention in town,” she sighed. “New York is so weird.”

—

One minute later, Amelia looked up from memes on her phone. There had been a sound, a scream from the next subway car over. Her work phone buzzed in a pocket of her long leather duster. She slid her personal phone away and glanced at the work phone as she moved towards the second car. From the sounds of people in the car, it sounded like someone had gotten bit.

“New York is so weird,” Amelia muttered to herself. Then she read the work text, and the color drained from her face.

Kendra was looming over someone's shoulder.  She was watching a man do a crossword puzzle on the subway.  He of course did not know she was there.  Her skin was soft and her touch even softer.  She could have brushed the lazy comb over off of his forehead without him noticing.  She wanted to in fact.  It looked ridiculous, but she didn't she bit her lip as she puzzled over 14. Down.  A faint pink aura enveloped her body.  A ghostly glow.  She of course could not be seen.  Astral projection was complicated. She looked up and saw her sleeping body sitting across from the man.  Her head bobbed and jostled as the train moved down the tracks.  No one seemed to be paying her body much mind except the skater boy sitting near her who seemed to be trying to look down her shirt.  Kendra scowled and squinted her eyes.  Behind her was an air conditioning unit.  A steady cold breeze pushed out of it.  Kendra stepped in front of it while eying the man.  Her astral body felt the cold in a dampened way.  It was like feeling the wind blow through a thin blanket.  Her actual body felt the cold as if she herself were standing in front of it.  It only took a moment or two and her sleeping body instinctively bundled herself in her sleep.  Curling more into a comfortable, warmer position; denying the peep show.

There she thought with a satisfied smirk.  The skater kid lost interest after that.  Kendra was invisible to everyone on the train.  She hadn't meant to fall asleep here actually.  She was just overworked and under rested.  She figured catching a few winks wouldn't hurt.  She wouldn't wake feeling rested but it was something.  Kendra turned her head back and realized the guy was actually filling in the answer.  She frowned at his chicken scratch handwriting.  What did that say? Dagulia?  What the hell did that mean?  Her thoughts were momentarily stolen away she heard commotion at the other end of the train car.  Kendra BLINKED.  A short range dream teleport.  She crashed into the vertical bar in the center of the train.  The train had bounced as she reappeared and she lost her footing for a second.  Her forehead smacked the pole with an audible THWUNG! It sounded like deep vibrations moving through a tuning fork.  "Jiminny Christmas!"  She exclaimed holding her forehead.  She forgot she was supposed to be invisible.  Her voice came seemingly out of no where, but this was New York, only a few people even bothered to look up.

She had to be more careful.  Kendra was a clumsy girl by nature.  Usually her teleport was perfection.  She could move like a ninja and feel like a badass.  But she never tried it in a moving vehicle before.  She bit her lip and considered.  Better not do that again she thought.  Pushing her way through the crowd she was careful not to actually touch anyone.  Except the guy standing in the center while she passed smoking a cigarette.  As she went past she plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it down before stomping it out.  "Smoking is bad for you!"  She scolded him.  He looked around confused and a little worried.  Kendra was   not some badass.  She was just a girl alone in New York.  A girl without much of a place to fit in.  She didn't have a purpose, heck she didn't even really have a plan beyond pay rent and try not to embarrass herself.  

Kendra moved into the next car.  The doors seeming to open and close on their own.  Again, no one seemed to notice or care.  That was the one good part about New York.  People seemed to let you blend into the background.  Everyone was was more wrapped up in their own lives to care about their fellow man.  It was almost sweet.  Kendra's eyes quickly scanned what was happening.  There were people screaming and pushing backwards.  Trying to give the chaotic scene a wide birth.   There was a woman on the floor holding her neck.  And a man hunched over her.  "Hey!"  Kendra called out.  She didn't have much of a plan beyond that.  He casually looked back at the direction of the voice over his shoulder.  He would not see her.  Could not see her.  A train car away her body still slept peacefully.  If anyone bothered her body she would feel it in her astral form.  If she got hurt in her astral form, her body would develop bruises and cuts to correspond.  

The man stood up and looked around at the terrified civilians.  "Which one of you blood sacks said that?"  He asked in a absurdly calm manor.  Kendra didn't like the fact that he had blood on his face.  This guy was starting to freak her out.  Suddenly she slapped the palm of her hand on her forehead.  Dragulia.  I got it now.  She thought.  She almost smiled, the way you do when you remember why you had walked into a room when it was on the tip of your tongue.  The smile quickly faded.  Anxiousness slow danced in her eyes.  She flexed her fingers and reached into the inner lining of her jacket.  She grabbed the collapsible police baton she carried and snicked it open with a flick of her wrist.  Since it was on her person when she fell asleep it too was invisible.  She was just a light pink aura visible only to her eye.  Outwardly there was no one there to address him though a voice came back anyway.  "The one who's going to send you back to Transylvania, or sesame street.  Or wherever you came from."  She wasn't usually one to get cocky, but she didn't like the idea of this guy's smugness.  She had the clear advantage.  There was no reason to be afraid.  

Strange, the man thought. A voice from nowhere. A ghost, perhaps? As master of the undead, he felt such things should fall within his purview. His command, if you will. But maybe that was not fully in-line with the lore?

Lore? What was he even talking about.

He could not see something which had made a noise. He stood up, and looked around. If something unseen had made a noise, the most logical answer was that he had not seen it.

>> "Which one of you blood sacks said that?"  He asked in an absurdly calm manner. Why should he fear the unknown? He was an immortal. It most likely had been one of the passengers. To think it had been some shade who did not accept his command was— unthinkable.

>> "The one who's going to send you back to Transylvania, or sesame street.  Or wherever you came from." An unseen voice cut in. Again.

His brow furrowed. It was all one piece, this brow. Like a very hungry caterpillar. So the caterpillar bunched up, perplexed.

—

In the other car, Amelia hurried past a skater boy on the way to the door. Her leg bumped into the knee of a woman with brown hair, who had bunched up in on herself, sleeping. She turned and snapped off a quick apology. As she hurried on to the next car, she compartmentalized the thought “Kind of cute, maybe talk to after issue is resolved…could be interesting.” But there was no time for that currently.

As she surveyed the scene in the next car over, something whispered in the back of her mind. The ghost of a memory. A nagging feeling. Face? Something about a face. Familiarity? She dismissed it as unimportant. The ghost of a memory stomped its foot in annoyance, in the back of her mind.

There was a man, absurdly dressed. Her wore an overcoat, a few centuries out of style. Not like her overcoat, which was stylish. Even in this New York heat. Oh, the sacrifices we make for fashion.

The man had blood on his face, around his mouth and chin. A woman behind/beneath him had a hand on her neck and was cussing him out about biting her. He was not looking at her, though. He was looking at air. Then, he spoke to it. He did not have an affected Dracula accent or anything. No wait, he totally did. It was horrible, and obvious.

“Sesame Street,” He wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. “Und vhere ist dat?”

Amelia blinked at him. What in the what now?

“Where the air is sweet, Robert?” She said calmly, approaching him slowly where he could see her. She stopped before she would have walked through the nothing that wasn’t there, pink and holding a not-baton. The one she could not see. “I can tell you how to get there, if you’d like. But Robert… you need to come with me. You’re off your medi—“

He interrupted her violently. “Dracula!!” He said, around very real, pointed fangs. “Lord of the undead! Master of darkness!!”

Quietly, she replied. “You’ve got blood on your white cravat, Robert. You’ve been drinking again… Dr. Acula wants you come home. Come home, Robert… don’t do this.”

“Please, don’t get violent.” Amelia wished.

The woman on the ground scooted away. People in the car were leaving. They gave them a wide berth.

Robert “Dracula” Drake stared real hard at the nothing between them. Then, he chuckled to himself. And got a very serious look on his face, almost psychotic, like he was trying to force his will upon the universe.

“Transient spirit, come to my aid. Rid me of this troublesome woman.”

If it didn’t, he was gonna punch it. Wherever the voice came from next.

Transient spirit?  Was he talking about me? Kendra almost wanted to laugh.  She had never been called a spirit before.  The laugh only lingered for a moment though before the thought sunk in.  Oh wow.  She had never even really thought about that.  She spent so much of her life in forced astral projection she had never considered death before.  If she ended up a ghost would she just be this ALL of the time?  A free floating spirit wandering around looking for things to occupy her existence?  That was a grotesquely morbid thought.  It sent a shiver down her spine.  Kendra's eyes refocused and she looked back up at the man.  

He was clearly off his meds like the doc said.  Kendra's eyes shifted over to who she assumed was the doc.  She seemed to be what, his therapist?  His case worker?  Either way she had her hands full.  Kendra, who's name implied her overthinking, had begun to daydream.  A whole slew of thoughts rushed into her sleep deprived, addled mind.  She pictured the woman before her in a doctor's office.  In front of a white board with different colored markers on it.  She was scratching at her chin thoughtfully while her team sat patiently, eagerly at a glass table behind her.  She was wearing a white doctor's coat now and a stethoscope.  On the table was one of those old fashiony black docto's medical bag's  Kendra's imagination did not skimp on the prop budget.  

On the white board before her was a crudely drawn stick figure with pointy ears and a cape.   The pretty doctor lady considered it.  

"Is it supposed to be batman?"  One of the other doctor's asked from behind her.  "Yeah it does look a little like batman."   The other doctor added in.  The pretty young doctor with the white coat spun around.  She had a limp, and a cane.  Reaching into her pocket she retrieved a pill bottle, palmed a few and popped them into her mouth.  "Don't be an idiot.   It's clearly a man bat."  Kendra watched this bizarre episode of Dr. House with mild amusement.  Drifting away into her thoughts Daydream had began to snowball.  Who else did this?  Someone she had seen recently.  Being an astral projector meant a lot of old sitcom reruns.  She would drift off like JD from scrubs, suddenly living some wild; often ridiculous, vivid fantasy.  

The doctor house woman from the subway limped over to a textbook on the table.  She placed her finger seemingly at random on some arbitrary page.  The exuberant look of satisfied conclusion on her face was almost comical to Kendra.  "This patient is clearly suffering from a serious case of the bat shit nutsy coo-coo''s"  Kendra couldn't help it she audibly giggled.  She was drawn into her fantasy until she realized she was laughing out loud.  It reminded her where she was.  Suddenly there was a swinging fist in her face.  She dodged at the last second.  Blinking out of the way she teleported right into some guy's lap.  "Hey what the heck?!?"  The man stood up and scrambled away as if his seat were on fire.  Kendra blinked a few times with her eyes.  She looked around and for a moment was glad she was invisible.

Suddenly there were no Doctor's, well there was but it wasn't a tv drama.  Kendra needed to help the doc out.  She wasn't going to beat the guy with a riot stick.  Not in front of his doctor.  She put it away and got out her tranq gun instead.  Leveling it.  Clickety clack, clickety clack the train rolled down the bumpy track.  Kendra's shot was canceled when a bump made her drop the gun.  In the other car the bump knocked her out of her seat.  Kendra's body hit the floor waking her.  Astral Kendra disappeared.  

As soon as Kendra's eyes opened she scrambled to her feet. "Frick on a stick."  She exclaimed.  Moving swiftly Kendra made it to the next car.  She was panting and out of breath.  Had it really been that long since she full out sprinted?  Kendra needed to get into better shape.  It wasn't like she was one of the X-men.  She missed her chance to be that long ago.  She had trained with a few, she had fought bad guys and even did the vigilante thing for awhile, but by no means did she consider herself a hero.   Then what was she doing here?  She realized she was panting and out of breath standing in front of the count and his therapist.  Seemingly out of nowhere.  She raised a finger to indicate she needed a moment to catch her breath.  "Hang on, just gimme-gim-gimme a minute.  I put a hitch'n my giddyup.  Im plum tuckered."  If the situation wasn't bizzare before it was now.  Her heavy Georgia acent was spilling out of her as she spoke. Leaning up she placed her hands on her hips and straightened up.  

She was being very 'hey look at me' about it.  Purposefully.  She had dropped her gun when she woke up.  Meaning it had landed on the floor invisible, but when she woke up it was just lying there.  She wasn't holding it when she woke up so it never returned to her body.  Sitting in the floor between her, the doc, and the drac... Was her tranquilizer gun.  Fully loaded with a dart that could one shot put down a gorilla.  Kendra was stalling until she thought she could edge close enough to grab it without making this a much bigger problem for everyone on the train. 

All of a sudden, a laugh happened from seemingly nowhere, and Amelia’s skin crawled. Robert swung at the sound.

Amelia blinked at the series of events that briefly followed the Dracula wannabes attack on thin air. At first, she had thought it was an attack on her, so she had stepped back. But someone nearby was like “hey, what the heck?!” And stood up, like something had bumped into them. And that was weird. And then nothing much happened after that.

Robert glanced around. “Spirit!” He shouted. “I am your master. Obey!”

“I don’t think it’s a spirit…” Amelia muttered to herself. A different word was in her mind. Mutant.

An invisible person? Sounded feminine. The laugh had, at the very least. An invisible girl.

“What would it be, then? Loathsome hag.” Robert asked.

“Putting a pin in that loathsome hag comment for later. Have you ever heard of mutants, Robert? Because you are one.” Amelia said.

“Mutant?” His tone was scathing. “This term. I do not know what it means.”

“Mutation: Any change in the DNA sequence of a cell. Mutations may be caused by mistakes during cell division, or they may be caused by exposure to DNA-damaging agents in the environment. A mutant in this day and age is someone with shiny powers that let them do stuff, like suck blood to get super strength.”

Robert sneered at her. “My powers be not mutation.”

Footsteps echoed down the metal sausage tube that was the subway car. A few moments later, an exhausted woman was panting. Doubled over. Holding up a finger. Catching her breath.

>>  "Hang on, just gimme-gim-gimme a minute.  I put a hitch'n my giddyup.  Im plum tuckered." 

And she had a Southern twang.

A sensory memory drifted in from the back of her mind. The sound. The ghost of a memory of a face came next. Then, a name.

As the woman took her time learning how to breathe again, Amelia eyed her.

This was not a normal memory type situation. She, herself, had never known this person. This was an Other Amelia type memory, wasn’t it? Like when she had tapped into the memory of the secret government installation she had found using memories stored in her brain from somebody else’s mind.

Long story short, there had been an alternate universe and she had found her evil twin there. They’d fought here. She had gotten hit by an unrelated psychic attack from the third mutant on the scene, who had simply been there before evil twin had tried capturing her for SUPER fun. And two minds, evil twin and Alpha Amelia, had merged. So… This was an Evil Twin Amelia thought. This woman looks like the SUPER operative, Nightmare.

Amelia ran with the stray thought for a separate mind within her own head, and tried not to think too hard about it that very moment.

“Agent Nightmare,” she said. “Glad you could make it. Could use your assistance peacefully helping this fine gentlemen over here. Robert, we’re agents of SUPER, your doctor sent us to help you. Will you let us?”

Robert ran at her with blinding speed, and threw a punch at her chest with the strength of two men. It sent her flying backwards, towards Agent Nightmare. Amelia’s mind flew into action. Something like a purple haze caught her like a baseball glove at the last moment. It cupped her in midair, a rounded, partially-visible psychic construct. It hung about a foot from Nightmare’s location.

Over her shoulder, Amelia called out: “don’t let him hit you, Nightmare! If I weren’t wearing an enchanted duster, I would be puking blood from that hit.”

She wasn’t, she was in pain and grimacing through it. There would be a bruise like a horse kick tomorrow.

She looked at Robert. “Please, calm down. Please.”

Then, she held up both her hands and sent psychic energy into the body of count Dracula’s cape. It started to wrap the count up in a massive hug. The hug would not detain him for long. He was strong, strong as two men. And her focus imparted the strength levels of one Amelia Mellitus, who sometimes worked out. But it was a sudden surprise, made to buy time. And that was all she had hoped for in life.

So many things had happened in the span of a few moments.  Kendra's mind was racing just to keep up with all of the details.  First off, this lady wasn't a doctor.  She was an agent.  And she thought that Kendra was an agent as well.  Nightmare?  She allowed the name to resinate within her.  It was kind of badass actually.  The inverted horror version of her own identity.  She had to stiffle a laugh though at the idea of being anyone's nightmare.  Kendra usually wouldn't even hurt a fly.  It just wasn''t who she was.    She would protect herself, maybe even stand up for those around her, but she didn't go looking for fights.  

"Yeah.... I uh.... just so happened to be on the scene"  So far she wasn't living up to the name much.  Clumsy, aloof.  More of a distraction than a force to be reckoned with. When Robert sent Kendra's new partner flying, she was caught by a cloud of what? Semi transparent mystery stuff?  Kendra raised an eyebrow.  Okay so she was definitely a mutant too.  Kendra straightened her posture.  Blinking her eyes a few time and trying to recompose herself.  Agents were cool under pressure.  While that didn't necessarily define her she could play the part.  "Last chance Robert.  I don't give second warnings.  If your next words aren't I surrender.  You're going to be in a world of pain."

Kendra had moved close enough to the tranquilizer gun during all the talking to gracefully, unnoticeably, bend down and pick it up.  She held it behind her back.  "You okay agent?" Kendra asked without turning to look at her.  Her eyes were on Robert.  Not only was he strong but he moved quickly.  Taking her eyes off of him would have been a big mistake.  Kendra stood with her feet slightly apart.  One hand dangled by her side.  The other behind her back gripping the trigger.  She also had her police baton.  Kendra could hold her own in a scuffle.  She had picked up some tricks over the years."


"Spirit.  You vill do my bidding.  Hurt this one!"  Robert was still playing with his ouija board.  Well, she warned him didn't she?  Pulling the gun she shot a dart into his neck.  There asshole.  How do you like being bit on the neck?  She thought bitterly as suddenly there was a metallic snick.  In  her hand was her metal police baton.  She rushed at Robert who was wrapped somehow in his own cape.  She slid on her side like a baseball player flying into second base.  She hooked the baton on his ankles and yanked as she slid past.  Robert's feet were yanked out from beneath him and he landed on his face with a bouncing thud.  Kendra didn't waste time.  She had no powers while she was awake.  She had to act while her window was still open.  She jumped on his back and pressed the end of the baton into his back trying to pin him there.  "You have the right to remain medicated.  Maybe you should take the hint.  It's okay people...."  Kendra said addressing the other subway patrons.  "We got him...."  She said forgetting already about his super strength.

>> Yeah.... I uh.... just so happened to be on the scene"  Nightmare said.

“How convenient,” Amelia commented.

‘This was Nightmare, from the AV,’ the ghost in her mind seemed to chide her. ‘Believe me.’ A mental feeling of confidence suppressed her brief flash of doubt.

Yes, odds were against it. But a lot of people had come over from that Counter-Earth. Come onnnnn~

She don’t have much time to dwell on the thought, because Robert hit her and sent her flying. Oof.

She addressed Nightmare, and begged Robert to stop. Did her thing. And Nightmare tried persuasion as well.

>> "Last chance Robert.  I don't give second warnings.  If your next words aren't I surrender.  You're going to be in a world of pain."

Or was that intimidation? It was Nightmare. Of course it was intimidation.

>> "You okay agent?" The woman asked.

“Peachy.” Amelia got to her feet. Her purple haze vanished as she mentally dismissed it.

Robert was talking, now. The same old tripe. Nightmare shot him, in response.

Amelia took a step forward, involuntarily. This was supposed to be non-lethal!! But then, oh— it was a dart. Not a bullet. On account of it being visible, and not exploding his head and stuff. If they had needed exploding zombies and vampires, she could have done that with the gun in her pocket.

Good. She would not have to discipline the other woman… Although it was taking a while for the sleepy time dart to do its thang.

Enhanced endurance. Right.

Nightmare slid towards Robert, tripped him up; Robert fell on his face. Nightmare mounted his back, and pressed her little stick where it would threaten and hurt.

>> "You have the right to remain medicated.  Maybe you should take the hint.  It's okay people...."  Nightmare said addressing the other subway patrons.  "We got him...."  She said forgetting already about his super strength. But he didn’t.

With a huff and a grunt of fury, if not effort, Robert, nee Dracula, pressed against his cloak and the ground. A bead of sweat slid down Amelia’s brow as she tried to hold back the tide with a mental effort. But— pop. There went her mental control. There went Nightmare, as she tumbled off the rapidly rising Robert.

He untangled himself from the cloak, presently. Tore it off, cast it aside, then turned. A little slower than he had been moving before, perhaps? He reached out, and picked Nightmare up with both hands… He held her aloft, anger in his eyes. But he did not throw her. No. He held her, a hand under each armpit, maybe even gently? And as he stared at her, he seethed.

“You…” he said, quietly. “Have the same voice as the spirit from before. I see thees now. You are no ghost… yet.”

Yes, it was gentle. He set her down on a subway bench, gently. And smiled at her, darkly. It was almost an insult. He was much stronger than her. Twice a man’s strength, even. Which meant he would need double the dosage.

The man dressed as Dracula loomed above her, like a… well, like a goddamn nightmare. He hauled one arm back, fingers splayed. His nails were like claws, filed to points, and painted… a dainty black. Like the night. He flexed his fingers, and readied his coup de grace. His killing blow. As he did, a pink drill of aura spun into existence on the left fist of the woman behind him. And another mental construct filled his pants…

Amelia now had limited clothing sense awareness and control over the contents of Dracula’s pants. Yay.

Dracula prepared to kill nightmare. Amelia prepared to control his pants.

“Hey, Robert!” She shouted.

“Dracula!” He turned. He was getting tired of people calling him the wrong name.

“Eat this!! Aura drill!!!”

Amelia rushed him, and swung the massive pink drill. It was over a foot long, and around half a foot at its base. It spun threateningly at his face. He moved to take a rapid step back, met unexpected resistance in the form of a pressure in his clothes, staggered at it, and readjusted to fling himself backwards forcefully, using upper body strength alone.

His head whipped back. Not fast enough.

The drill spun cleanly through his chin. And out the other side. The chin was flawless. Constructs she made could only touch and manipulate clothes. He has not known that. Robert had overcorrected. He was falling. As he fell, the drill vanished and reappeared, as a hand. On his sleeve. She knew aikido. Little pressure, redirects big force. She applied force, and guidance. Turned him. Helped him land once more on his face. Boom.

Ghost hand pulled his pants down, just a little. Exposed cheek. Very tastefully, very professionally, like an attending nurse assisting a doctor. Held things in place.

“You know,” Amelia noted. “One of the best places to administer a shot is the buttocks. Nightmare, you have more darts, right? Give Robert his medicine.”

“No,” Robert yelped. “Halp!”

The ghost pants pressed down on his legs with all her psychic weight, pinning him to the floor. He lacked the leverage to escape.

Kendra was in a bit of a daze.  She had not seen this series of events playing out this way.  Firstly she thought it was over when she had him pinned to the floor.  Some agent she was.  Rookie mistakes were for rookies.  Not for someone who went by the name of Nightmare.  Still, Kendra was not aware that her AV world counterpart was vastly stronger than her.  Nightmare could do things that Kendra had never dreamed of doing.  Pun totally not intended.  Though Kendra's ability had limited usefulness she had always found a way to make it work for her.  She had also been brushing up on the art of hynosis.  She wondered if self hynosis was possible.  And if so, if a hynotized state could trigger her dream walking.  There was no question in her mind that she had to train to become better.  Though, she only wanted to live her life.  Now she was arresting count Dracula on a subway.  It seemed as if trouble always found her.  She wasn't that hard to find as it turned out.

Kendra was hurled off the man and suddenly he was picking her up the way a father holds a toddler.  It was a little demeaning.  She felt like a child in that moment.  Without realizing it she was even kicking her feet like one trying to find footing on a ground that was out of her reach.  When he set her down, Kendra puffed up her lower lip and blew a huff of air that shot her bangs out of her face.  There.  Tantrum complete.  She thought.  All that was missing was her arms crossed over her chest.   

That didn't matter much longer.  As the woman was on the attack again.  Kendra watched with fascination as mental constructs came out in different colors and patterns.  She was honestly having a bit of trouble figuring out exactly what her power was.  Whatever it was it was varied and useful.  She seemed to almost have a mastery over it too.  Like she knew the full extent of everything she could do.  Kendra had been dream walking for most of her life and she knew she could teleport, she knew she was invisible; but beyond that she had not a clue.  There were so many unanswered questions to be discovered.  Like what if she fell asleep while she was dreaming.  A dream within a dream.  She had seen that movie inception.  And then what if.....!  Oh crap!  She slapped herself lightly in the face and blinked her eyes a few times.  This was no time to get sidetracked and go off on a rant.  

When her mind came back to the present the woman was wrapping Robert up in a neat little bow for her.  She even.... Pulled his pants down?  She looked up at the woman with raised eyebrows.  Confused as all hell until she told her to shoot him in the butt.  Oh, um.. Okay then she thought.  Pulling her gun back out she reloaded.   "Hasta-la-vista baby!" She said quoting the terminator.  She did feel like a badass as she pumped the final round into him.  The count was down for the count.  He slumped limply to the floor.  And suddenly there was applause?  For a moment, a very brief moment Kendra thought it was a studio audience clapping in a sitcom.  She thought she spaced out again.  That little nap on the train had been the first time Kendra had slept in two days.  There were bags under her eyes.  She looked like she desperately needed to make friends with a pot of coffee, or a pillow.  

But she was smiling.  She was pretty proud of herself.  She realized that the clapping was actually the people on the train.  They were applauding their heroics and Kendra only reveled in it for a moment before she was checking on the woman on the floor.  She moved the woman's hand away to see and the punctures were superficial.  It could have been a lot worse if he hit a vein with those weird fangs of his, but it had already stopped bleeding at that point.  At first it had been a lot of blood, but now the woman was already on her feet.  "So... You still probably need medical attention."  Kendra was telling her as the train came into the station.  The train stopped and the doors opened.  Kendra wasn't surpsied to see paramedics waiting.  Someone on the train had called.  Told them what the train was and what the next stop was.  And here Kendra was thinking that all New Yorker's cared about was the Mets.  

Turning around after she passed off the injured lady to the paramedic Kendra eyed the woman who had called her Nightmare.  She was determined to play along with this and find out more about this woman who apparently looked like her.  At least looked like her enough to be mistaken for her.  "Need help with this one?"  Kendra said helping the woman hoist the man to his feet.  She made sure to intentionally give her eye contact.  Kendra wanted to see if there was any informatoin to be gained from the other woman's facial expression.  Besides, it had been weeks since she had work.  Freelance photography was a good job if you wanted your dream job.  It was a lousy job if you wanted to pay your rent.  Maybe, just maybe she had found a new career.  Turns out she wasn't half bad at it.

Once the final dose had been administered, Amelia covered the man up. Pulled them up. Dismissed her constructs, and whipped out her work phone. While Nightmare looked after the injured woman and reveled in praise, Amelia made a quick call to corporate.

“Agent Mellitus, here. I caught Drake.”

Words.

“Yes already. He was on the same subway train as me, if you can believe that coincidence. Just one car over. Plus, I had help!”

Words.

“Agent Nightmare.”

Words.

“Uh huh.”

Words.

“Uh huh…”

Words.

“Uh huh. Listen, we’re just pulling into the station. You have my location data. Track me, be topside asap so you can pick this man up. I’ll handle The Rest. With my history—“

Words.

“Okay. Bye.”

Amelia hung up. She rubbed at her chest absently, in the spot she’d been hit. Hurt.

They were stopped now. Paramedics took the woman. She was in good hands. Wound looked like she wouldn’t bleed out. Hadn’t lost enough to be a concern. The way she had cursed Robert, rather than passing out… had it ever been in doubt?

“Nightmare” approached. Bad feelings in the background of her mind. ‘Told you so.’ They weren’t hers. Her inner ghost roared.

>> "Need help with this one?" The woman asked.

She smiled a winning smile at the woman with the Georgia accent. “I never turn down good help~” she said.

Together, they got the unconscious man to his feet. The cloak drifted over to them, at a flick of Amelia’s eyes. Her smile faltered slightly, as she split her focus. Half on nightmare, half on slipping the cloak back on the man’s shoulders. She was a hood liar, though. By the time it was on, the smile was back.

“We’re supposed to take Robert topside. Help me with this,” she shifted her body to better contain her side of him as they stepped down out of the subway car. Amelia glanced at her as she followed. Smiled. “Maybe we don’t tell them we pantsed a mental pattern together.” She winked.

—

Topside

SUPER support came. Quickly. Four officers, in plainclothes. They bound him, they had sedatives. Prompt, polite, professional. They had already coordinated with emts and New York transportation authorities to share information. Victim data, video. “Everything else will be in your reports,” they assured nightmare and Amelia. They did not plague them with tons of questions. They did not eye nightmare. Nodded, smiled at her. All in all, it took 5-10 minutes for them to collect the patient and professionally lie to her face.

They were done. Amelia grinned at Nightmare, after super had left. “Sooo, coffee?” She asked. “And first names. I think we’re there now. People who save my ass get to call me Amelia.”

She never had done aliases. What do you call… that. Whatever it was she could do? Food for thought.

Kendra's face lit up at the mention of coffee.  Once all of the official stuff was taken care of she realized how badly she needed it.  Coffee was her life's blood.  When Kendra had first discovered her mutation she was about six.  She started drinking coffee by six and a half.  It helped keep what kiddie Kendra called the "Bad dreams" away.  She smiled broadly at her new companion.  "Kendra.  Kendra Dillenger."  She said confidently.  She couldn't remember the last time she had made a friend in this city.  It wasn't exactly the friendliest place to live, but it was home for now. 

Kendra checked her phone.  It wasn't actually too late.  Sleep could wait.  It had waited this long at any rate.  Moving through the street there was a light fog on the street.  The orange of the street lamps cast a ghostly glow on the wet street.  Horns, people shouting, there was all the usual ambience, but there was also.... A steady thumping in Kendra's chest.  Her heart pounding in her ears she wore the face of a liar.  She was smiling broadly though she had no idea if Nightmare was the type of person who smiled this much.  She figured not with a name like Nightmare.  She let the smile drop from her face and instead resigned herself to a healthy dose of resting bitch face.

Kendra didn't talk much after that.  Not until they got where they were going that is.  She looked around and the coffee shop was empty.  It wasn't surprising for this late at night.  Who was looking to get hopped up on caffeine this time of night.  There was the odd college student here or there around the place at random tables.  For the most part however, they had the place to themselves.  Kendra chose a stool close to the door.  It was instinctual.  She wasn't planning on bolting for the door if the line of questioning got uncomfortable, but she was expecting a line of questioning.  How long can i pull this off?  She wondered. 

Kendra honestly didn't have the first notion of what to expect.  She didn't know what the agents did, or if what they did tonight was completely routine.  All she knew was she was still riding the high of tonight's adventures.  Kendra decided that she was going to go onto the offensive.  "What brought you into this line of work?" She asked looking up at the coffee menu.  "Coffee, black."  She said.  Turning her attention back to the agent.  She didn't smile.  She looked sour faced and tired.  That's right step into the shoes of Nightmare.  I bet she's a pretty big ol bitch.  Kendra thought and had to stiffle another laugh.  She was a happy person by nature.  Clumsy, but happy.  She was going to have the most difficulty with trying to be a bitch.  That absolutely was not in her nature.  

>>the woman known as Kendra decided that she was going to go onto the offensive.  "What brought you into this line of work?" She asked.

“One sec,” Amelia said, looking at the menu.

Their trip to the coffee shop had been silent, thoughtful. She had been full of thoughts. Did she share the truth, the whole truth, or a selective truth doctored with not lies, but omissions. That really depended upon their goal here. What was their goal, here? Ah right, here was their goal: recruitment.

“Black coffee and a slice of peach pie, thank you.”

The waitress left.

“Now then,” she smiled at Kendra. “I’ll give you the short story. We can save the long one one for a rainy day. You remember that rift in reality a few years ago?”

Ah yes, Amelia. That little ol’, very common rift. Around seven years ago. “It was all over the news. Warping, time dilations, all built up to ripples in reality, and people literally walking over from the other side. That’s SUPER’s coming-to-America story, ala American Gods. They came from over there. Okay, that was the back story. You’re following now. Good. Short version, coming right up.”

She paused. The waitress arrived with their coffee. And her pie came with ice cream. Kendra also had not left. Suuuuper.

“Okay. So. I joined SUPER,” Amelia said slowly, mixing a forkful of pie and vanilla ice cream. “When I assumed the identity of my Alternate Reality self and infiltrated their ranks. I got guilty and told them. Now they check their agents a bit better. Which is why I’m the best person to offer you a job. Turns out, Nightmare stayed on the other side of the rift when it closed. So, do you want to hear about the job now?”

She ate pie ala mode. Mmmm.

Kendra's coffee came as the waitress sat it down in front of her.  Leaning over it, Kendra stared at her own reflection.  The small ripples moving through the dark liquid gave the reflected image a dream like quality.  Kendra was no longer wearing the bitch face.  She listened to Amelia tell her about how she joined SUPER and the final tumbler clicked into the lock.  Her heart started to speed up again.  She knew she was discovered and Kendra turned on her seat to face Amelia.  "Guessin I'm something differant then what'chu were expecting."  She wasn't surprised.  "Sorry."  She admitted.  Even though Amelia had told her she had joined SUPER in pretty much the same way.

"We got the guy though."  She added sulkily.  She tried to force herself to stop interrupting.  Even though she felt she had to justify herself.  The next thing out of Amelia's mouth almost floored her.  She offered her a job.  "You're shitting me."  Kendra said.   "Well I guess i should probably start by saying my real handle is Daydream.  I'm nobodies. Nightmare.  I'm clumsy and untrained.  You'd be crazy to offer me this job.  I do need the money though.  Not a lotta money in pictures these days."  If Amelia was going to offer Kendra a job.  The least she could do was be straight with her so she knew what she was getting into.  If they became partners or whatever, she had to know who was having her back.  They nabbed the bad guy this time.  But Kendra  only had a few amature back alley vigelante scraps. She had a single training session with an X-man in the danger room of the mansion; and there was that time that her and a Scottish fellow named Artair Hawke took down a drug den.  But, that was the extent of her heroism.

Come to think about it, Kendra didn't know the first thing about SUPER.  She didn't know if they were the good guys or the bad guys.  She remembered the AV split when time did some wonky things with reality.  Kendra just wasn't that much into the news.  There was enough bad stuff in the world she didn't have to fill her sleepless nights with it.  Watching the news could make you nod off when you were already asleep.  Kendra found herself slowly nodding.  "Sure what's the job?"   Kendra was all ears.  Turning back to face the counter Kendra listened.  Taking her coffee into her hands.  She sighed at the warmth of it on such a cold night.  

Kendra looked down at her coffee and took a sip.  Flagging the waitress she asked for a slice of pie as well.  For a skinny little twig of a thing Kendra could eat.  You ever been awake at 3 in the morning?  You fill alot of your free time eating when you're up late.  And Kendra didn't gain weight when she ate as her astral form.  The food came back with her but metabolized super fast.  It was one of the few weird good quirks of her abilities.  She turned and looked at Amelia as she spoke.  Kendra wasn't sure if Amelia understood her powers.  Kendra didn't understand Amelia's at all.  She had started to daydream.  "I'm sorry can you repeat that last bit?"  Silently making a mental note to crawl out of her head for a moment and pay attention.

Her real name was Daydream, not nightmare. Well, what a difference that made. Like night and day. Ba dum tsh.

Woman was untrained, and clumsy. She had noticed some of that during, but had not wanted to say anything. Sometimes agents get upset about being called out on their areas they need to improve upon.

She nodded slightly. “I see.”

Training can solve a lot of problems associated with being untrained.

Woman needed money, though. Was not opposed to joining up. Maybe she ought to learn what Super actually did first?

>> "Sure what's the job?"  

Amelia explained it for about a minute. It went something like this:

“SUPER stands for Strategic Unit for Preternatural Experimentation and Research. Which means— uhh.”

God, that was a dated title. Did they even do experiments and research any more?

“Well, basically, over on the other side of the rift they used to bag and tag dangerous mutants so they could monitor them. And sometimes they appear to have done some preternatural experimentation and research, but what I basically do is respond to violent—“


Then Kendra daydream was like:

“sorry sugah, could you repeat that for me?”

So, she did. And was really glad that daydream had entirely missed that that entire minute of faltering.

“SUPER catches bad guys. Mutants who cause problems. Or sometimes, violent offenders who aren’t even mutants. One time, we went after a woman with a drug that made people turn young. That sucked, on the receiving end. Recently, we fought magic people who wanted to open a portal to a world of magic and summon an eldritch god. We, uh, stopped that, too. Super hush hush, very top secret.” She winked at Kendra.

Dear god who ever had placed her in charge of recruitment was a fool.

“I’ll tell you what. I am able to set up a meeting with the group to talk about recruitment and to further detail what it is we do. We can arrange for training, and put you in a starting position, or even an internship. You can learn from experience. Start small. And have an exit strategy.”

Kendra was listening very hard.  So hard in fact she was leaned in very close to Amelia.  Her eyes were big and brown and unblinking.  She still held her coffee in her two hands. Cupping the warmth, not realizing it was actually burning her hands.  She was lost in thought.  Fascinated by what she was hearing.  Bascially they kept tthe world safe from not only mutants but just regular old bad guys as well.  "Sure.  No need to go any further.  I'm in."  How many times has she felt like a victim?  How many times had she wished she could do more?  Sure, she wasn't running around the city in tights or a costume trying to make the world a better place, but she absolutely had the chance to do just that.

When Kendra finally realized she was burning her hands she took them away slowly.  She didn't want to make a big noticable deal about it.  She pressed them lightly against the cool, metal underside of the counter.  She had a few more questions, but they were superficial.  The one thing that was on her mind at the moment was the mysterious powers of Amelia.  "What exactly is'it you do anyways?  Those were some impressive powers.  You put a hurt'n on that boy."  She said admiringly.  Kendra plucked a straw off the straw dispenser and stuck it in her coffee.  Not wanting to resign herself to further burns.  She could be this way.  A little socially awkward at times.  She batted her eyes as she drank coffee through a straw.  The visiual was a little silly, but she was feeling more herself.  Feeling more confident.

"I dream walk.  Have'ta be asleep to use my powers.  It's why i carry a tranq gun.  Obviously dart'n myself up all the time has it's draw backs.  I don't do it all the time.... It might have.... Side effects."  Kendra considered and went on further.  "My body is vulnerable, when i astral project.  If someone touches my body, i feel it in the dream world and vice versa.  Bruises, cuts thangs like that; show up on ma'body while I'm sleeping, if'n I'm getting my ass handed to me in the dreamin world."  Kendra thought about it a little bit more.   She really wanted to at least nail down the main points of her ability.  "Though when I wake up, most of the nasty stuff's been healed over.  Oh! And I'm invisible in my dreams.  So is the thangs i fall asleep with.  They come with me.  So like if i were to fall asleep with a machine gun in my arms.... Invisible bullets ya know what I mean?"  It was kind of crazy to think about.  Kendra had never really thought to bring anything really dangerous with her into her dreams.  Then again, she never really went to sleep with the intentions of fighting anyone.  It just sorta happened.  Kendra hesitated.  She wasn't sure if she should tell Amelia about Dream.  Her alter ego persona who happened to be trouble personified.  She decided to tell her.  "I have to have time to rest.  If i go to hard at it.... My brain doesn't get the proper amount of rest it needs to do whatever it is it does, and my cognitive functioning, inhibitions, decision making skills all go down the crapper."  Kendra smiled a friendly smile.  I showed you mine.  Show me yours, she thought.  She had asked Amelia about her powers but ended up not waiting for an answer before she blurted out what is was she did.  She wasn't exactly speaking quiet.  She could see the waitress out of the corner of her eye.  She was watching them carefully.  "Daydream's not just a name.  It's a hobby."  She said almost apologetically.  For Her impulsiveness.  She had been up almost forty two hours.  The bags under her eyes and her impulsive, jittery nature might've had something to do with the coffee.  It might have had something to do with Dream.

In already? With very little persuasion. Okay.

>>Kendra turned gongs to her abilities with a question.  "What exactly is'it you do anyways?  Those were some impressive powers.  You put a hurt'n on that boy."

A hurt’n. Yeap.
She opened her mouth to reply, but Kendra gif to blurtin’. She filled the mouth with pie, instead. Listened.


Dreamwalking. Definitely explained the tranq gun. Which had been useful. Hell, Amelia didn’t dream walk and she was planning on requesting one from the higher ups. Then, when people asked what her power was, she could say “uh, sleep gun, duh?” And leave everything else a happy mystery. Instead of answering like she soon would.

Invisible bullets were interesting…. Note to self: if she joins, get her a machine gun. Or don’t. Yeah. Maybe don’t requisition that item, instead.

Amelia idly wondered what would happen if Kendra brought clothes. Invisible jacket that the woman had been holding in her arms, would Amelia be able to manipulate it? Could she manipulate clothes she could not see? She had never tried.

“Yeah. Invisible katana would be terrifying. But you can see you and you can see what you’re holding? Lose a hand, otherwise.” She chimed in. Kendra had said ‘know what I mean?’ Yeah? Well? Amelia did.

Kendra confessed something she probably thought was awkward:

>> "I have to have time to rest.  If i go to hard at it.... My brain doesn't get the proper amount of rest it needs to do whatever it is it does, and my cognitive functioning, inhibitions, decision making skills all go down the crapper.”

But then wasn’t that most people?

Maybe not so awkward after all. ‘Long as she didn’t snooze on the crapper, least. She left that unsaid.

The waitress was eying them. Oh boy. Hater, concerned citizen, or Karen who disliked profanity, Amelia wondered. They had said crap. Crapper. Crap. She took a long drink of coffee, and shot the woman an apologetic look. The woman turned, and pulled out a weathered bible. The waitress ignored them, and read. Looked like she was in a juicy bit. Amelia’s shoulders relaxed.

Kendra had finished/ it was Amelia’s turn.

“Well,” she began slowly. “Powers as they are, I think I can safely say I am a daydream believer.” Was this the 12th or 13th time someone had made that joke?

“My powers are… Kind of complicated,” Amelia took a sip of her coffee. “I manipulate clothing… make psychic constructs that affect it, put buffs on my own clothes, that sort of thing. Defensive ones. One time, I kicked an evil wizard in the crotch with my mind.”

She volunteered the information earnestly enough, wincing only a moment after, as she recalled how that had ended for her. He got naked and blew up a mansion. “Pro tip though, if you see any flying wizards, you’re better off running the other way.”

The waitress looked at her pointedly. She had said crotch, hadn’t she? Amelia finished her coffee in a quick burning knock back like a shot. Luckily, it had mostly cooled. Mostly. Her pie ala mode was long gone. They should take the hint.

Amelia put down enough cash to pay for both of them, plus tip.

“Want to get out of here and go join up?” She asked. It was, what, 10 now? Almost 11? Headquarters was like Denny’s, always open. “Or we can do it tomorrow. You’re probably tired.”