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Please note: This chapter contains some moderate swearing in English and Greek, as well as Otto losing his temper in a very, shall we say, messy fashion. Nothing particularly explicit, so this won't be under a mature filter, but still not recommended for those under fifteen. Rated for violence, language, and dealing with child abuse.

Chapter 4: Enter the Faerie

Mouse looked up at the dark sky, flinching back from the thunder and lightning of the afternoon storm. The heat of the summer had finally begun to dissipate in September, but they had been having some terrible storms. She slid back the board that would grant her access to the warehouse, and slipped inside, as the wind whipped through her.

The child was already drenched, her mismatching clothing sticking to her skin. The effect made her seem even smaller than usual. Fingerprint bruising could be seen up and down her thin arms, and there were more hidden under her clothing. A dark bruise ran along the upper part of her jaw line into her scalp, and under her short dark blond hair were the marks wearing someone had gripped her by the back of the neck. Such markings were usual for Mouse, but she winced slightly as she moved today. Nights had been bad lately. Devon was having some sort of trouble with his suppliers, and it was making him more irritable than usual. Which meant that anytime Mouse stumbled into his path, she was bound to be on the receiving end of his anger.

Pulling the boards shut behind her, Mouse wrung out her hair and weaved through the stacked crates to where Otto had set up shop. Today, she pulled a boxed sandwich and a broken wrapped cookie out of her bag, and sat them carefully on the crate just off to Otto's side. The packages were a bit damp, and Mouse looked down at her bag and scowled--like her, the thing was soaked through. Moving off to her area of the warehouse, she started pulling things out of the messenger bag--bottles and cans, which she turned in for money, her teddy bear Tonto, and a sketchpad and crayons. A bottle of water and half sandwich. She sat everything out on a crate to dry, then sat the bag on its own crate.

The notebook looked to be a lost cause. Mouse opened it carefully, frowning at the pages that threatened to come apart in her hand. She had liked this notebook, and didn't want to have to toss it out now. It was one of the ones Otto had given her, and she'd been trying to take good care of them. Now this one had gotten ruined.

He'd become accustomed to the little girl who came by on a regular basis now. It was nice to have another human being around, even if it was a child. The last several months had been acutely lonely.

Larry, who seemed to like little Mouse the most, chirped a greeting when she came in out of the rain. Otto looked up. The child was soaked to the skin, as were most of the things she was pulling out of the messenger bag she always carried. She also looked dirtier than usual, with dark smudges on her skin. That was odd. Wet as she was, she ought to be relatively clean.

He turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable behind his goggles. The actuators turned with him, peering to get a better look. Then Flo hissed.

dirt not dirt bruises

"What?"

Flo reached out and curled gently around the girl, herding her closer to Otto as he came to meet her halfway, crouching so that he was at her level. He gripped her chin and turned her head so that the marks on her jaw were more easily seen. They were indeed bruises, dark, ugly looking purple and blue blotches, very fresh. They hadn't been there last night. While the sight of bruises on the child was not an uncommon one, these seemed worse than usual.

Mouse allowed Flo to herd her closer, though she looked at the actuator nervously. When Otto gripped her chin she froze, shrinking into herself and stifling the urge to run. Had she done something to make him angry? Anger led to pain, and Mouse did not want to make more people angry. Especially not Otto, as the actuators could do so much more than just a human hand.

She could have been stone under his hand, still as a statue. Her mind instinctively prepared itself for pain, preparing to let go and sail away, to save her from the worst of things. It was what she did when Devon hit her, what she did when Stevie came looking for her at night. She would imagine the birds and clouds and pretend she was up there with them, soaring above the city.

Otto felt sick at the very thought. Someone had done this to her. Someone had hurt Mouse, a girl who was as about as offensive as her namesake- that is, not at all. Someone had hit her, handled her roughly, had perhaps...

He was a monster, yes, but this... this was just plain wrong.

"Turn down the lights," he ordered. Harry chirped and did so, dimming the illumination where he could take off his heavy goggles without screaming in pain. He did so, looking at Mouse with hard brown eyes. "Who did this to you, Mouse? Was it someone at home?"

Mouse shrank back even further, growing more nervous when the lights were turned down. She did not like the dark. Bad things happened in the dark. And in the city, bad things lived in the dark. She did not want to think that Otto could be a bad thing. He had been nicer to her than most people in her life.

She ducked her head, tears of fear and shame coming to her eyes. She did not let them fall--not yet. Crying tended to make things worse, if they saw you do it. Even silent tears made Devon more angry. Mouse swallowed hard, trying to push the tears away. Why couldn't he just ignore the bruises like her mother did? Just let them keep on as they had been? She didn't bother him, and she tried to be nice by bringing him food. And sometimes he did nice things for her too. Why was he angry? Was it because she'd gotten hurt?

Otto realized he was shaking. One of the actuators- Mo, he thought- flexed its claws into the floor, crushing the boards into splinters and leaving a Y-shaped gouge in them. Mouse flinched hard at the sound, but it snapped him out of the furious daze. He blinked, and saw the glimmer of tears welling up in Mouse's eyes. He was scaring her.

"I'm sorry, Mouse," he said softly, giving her a hug. "This isn't your fault."

It took several moments for his words and actions to register completely to her brain. When they did, she merely blinked at him, confused. How was this not her fault? It was always her fault.

He pulled back, the actuators drawing around him- all except Larry, who curled around Mouse and chittered. There was an angry note to the actuator's 'vocalization', which matched the angry tone of its 'voice' in his head. Larry was furious. Of all the actuators, it had taken the greatest liking to Mouse, and it wanted to tear the people who'd hurt her to pieces.

Frankly, Otto wanted to as well.

"This is not your fault," he repeated, looking into the little girl's face. "The people who hurt you were wrong to do that." So, it seemed that semester of psychology he'd been required to take had paid off a little. "You're staying here tonight. You're not going back there again if I have anything to say about it."

If the actuators had anything to say about it, there wouldn't be a 'back there' for her to go to. Not for long.

Mouse patted Larry a bit nervously, then slid out from under the actuator. The angry chittering of the machines were keeping her from relaxing. Despite Otto's words, she could tell he was angry. And it was because of her.

She slunk back to her corner, and picked up her teddy bear. He was soggy, but hugging him still made him feel better. Mouse tucked him under an arm and started putting her bottles and everything else back into her bag. When she had finished, she started to slink back to her entrance. She might not go home, but she didn't want to make Otto angry either. She would just go to one of her old hideouts for awhile. But Larry stopped her before she could go too far towards her entrance, powerful jaws clamping down on her arm delicately.

"No, Mouse," Otto said. "Please don't go. I need you to stay here. I am not angry with you."

Mouse whimpered a little, though Larry's grip on her didn't hurt. She was confused by Otto's actions--it took her a moment to realize that, while Otto was angry, he was not directing the anger at her.

"Stay here," he repeated once more. "You're going to be alright. No one is going to hurt you anymore, understand?"

Larry released its hold on her arm and nuzzled her, though it continued to make those agitated clicking sounds. get the ones that did this kill them rip them apart make them hurt too

'As soon as we get there,' Otto promised silently. Aloud, he said, "Stay here, stay dry. I'll be back soon."

Mouse bit her lip, and slowly sat her bag back on the crate. She hugged Tonto tightly, a little bit of water running out of the worn bear onto her shoes. Looking up at Otto, she nodded her understanding slowly. She would stay put, because he had told her too.

The girl started pulling her things back out of her bag, shivering a little as cool air breezed through the drafty warehouse. There was a loud clap of thunder, and she jumped, looking up at the ceiling, as though afraid the thunder would come crashing through. Otto nodded and directed Larry to drape a blanket over her shoulders. No use getting her away from that place if she was going to get sick. The actuator obeyed and gave her one final nuzzle before it rejoined its father and siblings. There was work to do.

Heavy metal claws made a distinctive clanking thud on the ground as Doctor Octopus went out into the thunderstorm. He was soaked within minutes, but he didn't care. The heat given off by the nuclear power packs in the actuators' harness kept him warm enough. More importantly, the actuators allowed him to take to the rooftops, and to see through the rainy dimness of the stormy late afternoon with ease. Following his mental map, he headed off in the direction of the crack house Mouse called a home.

Robin Goodfellow--also known as The Puck--had heard some very interesting things about some of the ghettos of Manahata--modern day Manhattan. She was on free reign from the Court, and had been bounding around the city for a few nights now. Now she was in Hell's Kitchen, looking for a bit of fun. Scaring the junkies had been fun—they usually thought her illusions were some sort of hallucination—but she'd just about had her fill of that. She needed some fresh mischief.

There was a loud thunking sound overhead. Robin looked up, shrugged, and followed it. Perhaps Hermes was sending something interesting her way.

Samantha Mercer had grown up in Hell's Kitchen. She'd gotten knocked up in high school, and had always resented that fact, just a bit. Her own mother had taken care of baby Maggie—quickly nicknamed Mouse, for her size. Evelyn Mercer was everything to her granddaughter that her daughter was not. Samantha had worked various dead-end jobs to support her child, but never felt the maternal instinct that Evelyn thought she should. She loved her child, to some extent. Once she had gotten a little bigger, Samantha had enjoyed playing games with her. Her Maggie Mouse was a cute little girl, and Samantha could dress her up like a doll. But at best, Mouse had been a source for entertainment. At worst, she felt like a ball and chain.

But then Evelyn had died, and the stress of taking care of a four year old on her own was too much. Samantha had never lost touch with some of the people she'd gone to high school with—few people left Hell's Kitchen. Reconnecting with Devon had been easy. He'd come over, brought some stuff...and for the first time in four years, she'd felt free. It was like falling off a cliff. When Devon and his friends had needed a place to stay, she let them move in. It had gone downhill from there, but she didn't care. She had sex, drugs, and felt better than she had in years. Her daughter faded into the background, and Samantha didn't care.

So she ignored the noises that came from her daughter's room at night, and if Devon was a little rough with her sometimes...well, then the girl ought to know to stay out of his way by now. Devon was right, after all…Mouse was a retard, and wouldn't amount to anything anyway. Why should she waste her time on a daughter who couldn't even talk?

A storm was raging outside, but it was all good inside. Devon passed her a joint, and Samantha took it with a smile. If the fact that her child was outside in such a storm bothered her, she didn't show it.

Otto looked down at the building, gloved hands clenched into fists. There it was. The crack house. Mouse's home. A run-down little place in the middle of a hellhole. He knew he could still walk away from this, give an anonymous tip to the police, and let them take care of it.

Like Hell he could. This was Hell's Kitchen. The police who were willing to actually do their jobs still wouldn't be worried about one neglected little girl. Besides, none of them knew what someone down there had done to Mouse. None of them would care.

Flo reared over him, parting its jaws wide to get the clearest view for its camera. The infrared feed showed him six hotspots, all on the same floor of the building. Six was two more than he could immediately handle, but he was counting on the fact that they would likely be stoned to the gills and not much of a threat.

He waited for a flicker of lightning to lick across the sky overhead before jumping. The actuators had been timing the storm, and so were able to direct the jump so that they landed as the thunder crashed, effectively hiding the sound of impact. Thunder did not, however, disguise the wrenching sound the door made when Mo ripped it from its hinges and tossed it inside.

Otto stalked inside, momentarily backlight by another flash of lightning that made him look like some tentacled, Cthulu-esque demon. The room was as run-down as the outside of the building, people scattered about on battered couches or armchairs or even just slumped in a corner. The stink of marijuana hit him immediately with almost palpable force.

"Which one of you," he snarled, "Which one of you sick bastards hurt her?" Flo and Mo and Larry curled over his shoulders, snapping and casting their bloody red lights over the scene as Harry planted itself on the floor for support.

A few of the junkies blinked at the man standing in the doorway. Devon had his arm around Samantha, and cocked his head. So, the famed Doc Ock lived and was right there in his house. One hand inched towards the gun in his waistband. "Gonna have to be more specific with that, brother," he said. "Who's 'her'?"

Robin perched on a fire escape railing, watching the strange man with metal arms rip into a house that reeked of drugs. Interesting indeed. She jumped down the four stories to the ground, and slunk closer. She was invisible to mortal eyes for now--all the better to watch the party. An old line ran through her head. 'An actor too perhaps if I see fit…'

who's her who's her indeed we'll show you who

Two actuators shot at the speaker, one clamping its jaws around his chest and the other tearing the woman from his side. Otto directed Flo to be more careful with her- he had a vague notion that Mouse's tormentor was more likely to be a male. At least, if his own father was any judge...

That did not, of course, mean that Flo was in any way gentle. It was just less rough as it shoved her into a moth-eaten armchair and curled back to watch the other junkies. They, at least, were too stoned to do much of anything.

"The girl," Otto said. Mo shook its captive like a terrier with a rat, though it was careful not to snap his neck by accident. That was the lovely thing about the actuators- they could fine-tune their strength to the occasion at hand. "Mouse."

Devon looked at the actuator holding him, too stoned to be truly afraid. He aimed the gun at Samantha. "Stupid bitch. Why didn't you drown that worthless brat at birth?"

Samantha eyed the gun and tossed the used joint on the floor. "Mouse is fine," she told the strange man. "If she got hurt, it's her own fault. She knows better than to get underfoot." One finger dipped into the powder Stevie had in a tin, and went into her nose. "What do you care anyway?"

Robin crept closer, standing in the doorway behind the man. So, a child had been hurt. This man was seeking vengeance. Good. She could do with a fight, and the cause was worthy enough to justify it to her lord. Perfect.

He thought he'd been angry before. Now, though...

gun gun he has a gun The actuators did not like guns- run-ins with armed police shooting at them tended to leave a machine with that impression.

"Then get rid of it," Otto said. He was shaking now.

gladly Mo reared up, then slammed its captive into the wall. There was a sharp bang as the handgun went off, but Otto heard no sudden cries of pain, so the bullet hadn't hit anyone. The gun dropped from the man's fingers as Mo slammed him into the wall again. Cheap wooden panels crumpled like paper. So did the man.

Otto ignored the man's pitiful cries and whirled to face the woman. "I care," he spat, "Because she is a child, and you-" Flo screeched, knocked the tin away, and smacked the woman to the floor. "Have allowed her to be hurt. You sicken me, woman. Your own daughter, damn you!"

Robin felt her blood start to boil with rage. Parents were meant to protect their children. Children were gifts, precious in every sense. This piece of skata had allowed her's to be injured?

Stevie, not quite as stoned as his friends, began to squirm. He slid away from Samantha, inching towards the door. Mouse didn't talk, not ever...but what if she had? He looked at the limp form of Devon, and decided he didn't want to take that chance.

Robin leaned against the doorway, and became visible just as the man neared her. "Where you goin'?" she asked casually, hands in her pockets. She could smell the sweet smell of a child on this man. In all the ways that she hated. In the old days, children had been sold as slaves or used as sacrifices for the gods. But the world had grown wiser since then. Even one with a libido such as hers would never dream of looking at a child in that manner.

One hand shot out, connecting with the nervous man's chest. Robin effortlessly pushed him back into the room, throwing him at the feet of the man-machine. "This a private party?" she asked. "Or can anyone join in?"

Two actuators whirled to eye the newcomer. She was petite, brown-haired, wearing dark jeans and tank top under an army-green jacket that was vaguely reminiscent of the one Otto wore now, though it was shorter. A brief analysis of Otto's memories classified her as being of a type he favored, though what he would make of the fact that she'd tossed a grown man nearly a foot taller than she was across the room without even blinking they had no idea.

who is she yes this is a private party what is she doing here perhaps could make exception to invitation-only rule strength may not be her only power damn mutants

Otto glanced up at the newcomer to look for himself, light glinting off the dark lenses of his goggles. A dozen questions flashed through his mind- chief among them 'Who the hell are you?'- but he quashed them. "Be my guest," he said, and looked back down at the woman. "Get out of my sight," he snapped at her. "If I ever see you again, I will peel the flesh from your bones and leave what's left in the sewers for the rats."

Samantha rose and headed for the door, before some spark of material instinct sounded in her head. "Where is she?" she asked, sounding a little lost herself. Surely she couldn't just leave her child.

"You don't deserve to know that," Otto informed Mouse's mother. "She's safe, which is more than she ever was with you. Now get out."

Robin eyed the woman with an impassive eye. The man on the floor was trying to crawl away. She rolled her eyes, and pushed him down with a foot. "If you're looking for someone who's been after a child," she started, "you might ought to deal with this one next. He absolutely reeks of child." She leaned down, her green eyes flashing dangerously as she got in Stevie's face. "Why don't you tell the nice man just what you like about little girls, you sorry piece of skata from the depths of Hades?"

Larry studied the younger woman for a moment, then extended the eighteen-inch spike it carried, pressing it delicately and quite deliberately against the pedophile's groin. The actuator knew Otto's revulsion for what the woman had implied and they were extensions of Otto's will. And Otto wanted to hurt this man.

"Why bother letting him talk?" Otto snarled. "The poison will only get on you too." He gave Larry the order, and the actuator savagely bore down on its captive.

A smile slowly spread over Robin's face as she watched the man writhe in pain. "Most impressive," she commented. She wasn't supposed to hurt mortals when it could be avoided, but that didn't mean she couldn't put them in situations to be injured. Or killed, as this sihama would more than likely bleed to death before he got any help.

Samantha was lingering in the doorway, guilt in her eyes. Robin snarled, and stalked to her, grabbing her arm. Leaning in, she began whispering in a harsh tone in her ear. This went on for several minutes, the mortal's eyes growing large and fearful. At last, Robin released her, and the woman finally fled from the house.

Robin turned to eye the remaining junkies in the room. The one that had been thrown into the wall was beginning to stir. She put her hands on her hips, surveying the room. "Which ones do you want?" she asked.

"The ones that hurt Mouse," Otto replied. He looked dispassionately down at the man writhing on the floor. The groin area had quite a few large blood vessels around it. His victim would probably bleed to death. He hesitated a moment, debating whether to make the death quick or slow.

The memory of Mouse, the way the skin on her face and arms had darkened with bruising, the way she flinched when he, an adult male, got upset or even happened to stare into space in her direction for too long, stayed his hand. This man did not deserve a swift demise. Let him bleed.

She assumed that Mouse was the child. Sniffing the air, she pointed at the one against the wall, and the one on the ground. "I think they're it," she said. Stalking over to where two others were huddled in a drug-induced haze, she crouched and bared her teeth at them. "Want to play a game?" she asked innocently.

The pair looked at each other, looked at her, and stumbled to their feet, running for the door. She straightened and let them go.

Leaving the metal man to his fun, she breezed through the house, tracking the scent of the child to a room with a dirty mattress, old blanket and a pillow that might have been mistaken for a pancake. Robin shook her head, and picked up two worn children's books and two sketchpads from the floor next to the makeshift bed. She gave the bed one last glance, enraged at the things she smelled there. But she reminded herself of the man dying downstairs. There was no true justice for stealing the innocence of a child, but at least he would not go easy.

She headed back down the stairs, books in hand, to see the man's handiwork. The Puck had never seen anything quite like the four metal arms, and was quite fascinated by them.

Otto had allowed the actuators free reign with the remaining men who had hurt Mouse. He simply stood there and let them enact his dark desires for them.

To his distant surprise, he noticed that the actuators crushed none of their victims, either with their claws or by constricting around them like pythons. He'd thought that they might try it, but instead they snapped the neck of one man by twisting his head around, and lashed the other one about in a cruel parody of a child's 'crack the whip' game, snapping tendons and bones alike and leaving him screaming on the floor before Larry stabbed him through the throat.

"Never again," Otto growled. "Never again will you hurt her."

Robin stood on the last step of the staircase, watching the show. How interesting. She'd heard rumors of strange men, running about the city in costumes and the like. But this one seemed...different. He wasn't trying to be a hero, he was just correcting a wrong. In a savage way that very much appealed to her hobgoblin nature.

There was one last junkie, huddled near the stairs. The scent of the child on him made Robin's head turn sharply, her eyes flashing Glamour green. Cocking her head, she moved towards him, trying to determine if the scent was from living in the same space or if he had hurt her. "What about you then, boyo?" she asked, leaning a hand against the wall by his head. "You make some fun of your own?"

The man quivered, and the acid scent of urine filled the air. "I ain't never touched that child," he said in a shaking voice. "Little kid came and went. What did I care, so long as she stayed out of the way?" Hell, he'd even made her a sandwich once, when he'd caught her lingering near the kitchen and he'd been making his own.

Robin sniffed again, but found no lie in his eyes. Fear, yes, but no lies. She jerked a packet of powder from his hands, frowning at it. Chemicals. The strange chemicals that mortals insisted on poisoning themselves with. Opiates and the gods only knew what else. She tossed it aside with a growl.

"Do yourself a favor, and clean yourself up," she snarled, her eyes glowing bright green. "Stop wasting the pathetic life the gods gave you." The man nodded, and as she stepped back, ran for the back door. Robin turned to see if the man was finished. Well...there certainly wasn't much more he could do to the damned souls. She nodded her approval. Let Hades cast them into the deepest circles of Tartarus, to receive their punishments.

She approached the man with one eye on the metal snakes around him. Robin knew that she was faster than they were, but one had to be aware to have the advantage. She extended the books to him. "Thought your little friend might want these back," she said with a shrug. The books were old and stained, though the sketchbooks appeared brand new. She could feel the child's presence on them. They had been handled lovingly, almost reverently. Yes, she would want them in her new home, wherever that may be.

He was still trembling a little, though most of his rage had been spent with the lives of the junkies. They were dead, and would never be able to hurt Mouse again.

Flo shook herself, complaining that it would take ages to clean the blood from her claws and joints. Funny, how they hadn't complained after the hospital.

Turning, he looked closer at the young woman who'd shown up and so eerily pinpointed who deserved to die. She was holding out two worn picture books. Through Flo's camera he could read the titles- The Velveteen Rabbit and, he thought rather appropriately, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. Otto took them from her, brow knitted slightly. "Who are you?"

Robin smiled, sticking her hands in her back pockets. "The Puck," she said. "Also known as Robin Goodfellow. And who might you be? Not every day I run across a part-mechanical avenger of wrongs."

She watched as a few of the tentacles swooped closer to track her. Cocking her head at the strange machines, she waggled a few fingers at the bright red lights. Perhaps a camera of sorts, as they seemed able to see on their own. Most new technology was beyond her, but some of it she still grasped.

what the hell is she puck what kind of name is puck is she not human readings do not match too hot what is that energy field around her what the hell

The actuators continued with their confused relay of their analyses, chattering and craning about to look at her from all angles and available spectra. She called herself Puck. He knew that name- Rosie had dragged him to a couple performances, both in Central Park and ones put on by the ESU drama department. A Midsummer Night's Dream was one of her favorite Shakespearian plays.

"You're Puck," he said flatly, one eyebrow raised. "Really, girl, do you honestly expect me to believe you're the Puck? 'Shrewd and knavish sprite' and all that? Do I look that gullible?"

Robin sighed. "At least you know the name. That's something." So many didn't, not anymore. "To think there was a time when every peasant in Britannia knew me." She shook her head. "Here. Might as well make those a little more presentable for a little girl."

Sparkling green pinwheels of Glamour came from her hand, and were sent over to cover the books in his hands. The tears and soiled spots were fixed, though she left marks that showed the books were well-worn and loved. The pages were still soft, not stiff and new. Raising an eyebrow at him, she allowed a small quirk of a smile at his expression. Priceless, that.

Otto stared at the flare of green light, though it was bright enough to hurt his eyes a little, even through his goggles. The tears and stains on the books were gone, just like that, just like...

like magic magic does not exist cannot exist some application of unknown energy field how the hell did she do that

He and two actuators looked up at the girl. "How the hell did you do that?" he asked.

Robin gave him a smile. "Magic," she said simply. "I am a faerie, after all. Or is further demonstration required?"

She could do with a bit of showing off. The Puck always liked to perform, after all. And when the audience was such a fascinating one as this...

a faerie what clap your hands if you believe

Otto laughed harshly, the sound more appropriate to Doctor Octopus than to Otto Octavius himself. "A faerie. My dear girl, you will have to demonstrate very thoroughly to get me to believe that you are a faerie and not some delusional mutant. I have never believed in faeries."

Robin clutched her chest for a moment, as if stabbed. Then she smirked, and rolled her eyes. "Good thing Barrie's mumbo-jumbo is false, or we would have all died out ages ago." She rubbed her hands together, an impish smile blooming on her face. Her brilliance sometimes amazed even herself.

"Alright then, maestro. You want a demonstration? I'll give you a demonstration."

More green Glamour cartwheeled around her hands, as she thrust them towards him. The lights swirled around him for a moment, before a new man emerged. No strange metal arms this time. The machines were hidden, and the man's ragged attire replaced with something more...approachable. He looked perfectly normal--and rather handsome, now that she saw him properly.

what

The actuators just had time for that panicked exclamation before there was a swirling of lights and then- nothing. No voices in his head, no metal arms attached to his back, nothing to help keep his weight off his bad leg, which was hurting more than usual after all the fun. Otto grimaced and hurriedly shifted to the other side as pain flared up his right leg and into his spine.

"What did you do?" he demanded, looking at her with something between shock and horror.

Robin smiled, and conjured up a full length mirror. She held it before the man, so that he could see himself properly. "Do you believe me yet?" she asked.

He seemed to be in some pain, so she extended a general soothing Glamour--no lights for this one, they were mostly for show. Just a little something to help with the pain. She watched the man examine himself, waiting for him to either declare the whole thing mad or find some other explanation for what she had done.

The pain faded as she gestured again. That, perhaps more than the disappearance of the actuators or the sudden change of his clothing, made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. She may or may not be a faerie, as she claimed, but she definitely had power of some kind.

"You're something," he admitted. "I don't know what."

Robin rolled her eyes, and extended a hand. With a snap of her fingers, the illusion was broken. The mirror gone, the man's original appearance intact. He staggered a little, the actuators scritching and snapping in agitation. They did not like being made to disappear. They really did not like that. And yet they did not strike at her, instead maintaining a safe distance. There was something new in their manner- fear. They were afraid. For the first time, they had come up against something they could not fight, couldn't comprehend. And that scared him.

"Look at me," Robin said, indicating her clothing. "It's storming outside, yeah? Pouring cats and dogs, as they say. If I'm not a faerie--or some other kind of creature with ties to nature--then what am I?" Her clothes were dry, after all. She was not the least bit damp. She could control the elements, to some extent, which might that if she wanted to stay dry, then she did.

"I- more illusions," he said. "You could be a mutant with very powerful skills at illusion creation."

She cocked her head at him. "Mutant?" she asked, confused. She stirred the word around in her head for a few moments...was that what they were calling the humans who were turning up with powers? The evolved ones? It sounded right. Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair. "Sweet and mighty Zeus. Ah well." She rubbed her forehead and shrugged. "No one does denial like mortals. It's rather sweet, I suppose." At least, until that ignorance got you eaten.

Robin gave the man a smile and a shrug. "You ought to get back to your friend. Going to be dark soon--not a safe time to be out and about. Nasty things live in the dark."

Flo snapped at the air, jaws coming together with a clang of metal. They could handle anything in the dark that would dare try and cross their path. Anything like this self-proclaimed 'faerie' would get struck down before it had a chance to make them disappear.

"I know that," Otto said. "Not much is scarier than I am, Miss Goodfellow. Not in this city." He tucked the books into his pocket. Glancing at her through his goggles, he hesitated a moment. Perhaps he ought to extend some sort of courtesy? She had power. And she had helped him...

she made us disappear

Better to make friends with the person who could make his greatest weapons an allies vanish at the snap of her fingers than to make an enemy of her.

He extended his hand. "Doctor Otto Octavius."

Robin inclined her head to him, accepting his hand. "Well met, Otto Octavius," she answered. She sniffed the air, taking in the parts of his scent.

"And perhaps there is not much tougher than you, but there are creatures who troll warehouses and the like. If they catch the scent of a little girl alone..." she let the warning hang in the air. All sorts of supernatural predators lurked in urban areas. Revenants, wolves, incubi, succubi...they came in all breeds, and most of them fed on humans. No, they would not pass up the chance to feed on a child left unattended.

He had the distinct impression that she was sniffing him. It was a distinctly odd feeling. Humans didn't do that. Could she, possibly, be what she claimed?

ridiculous no such thing as faeries

Mo curved over his shoulder, looking directly into the girl's face, examining her closely.

ears pointed ears look

They were, slightly pointed where most other people's would curve.

He shivered slightly and withdrew his hand. "Thank you for your assistance. Do you wish to meet the child you helped avenge?"

Robin blinked at him, tucking a strand of hair behind a slightly pointed ear. "Uh...sure. I suppose. Why not?" Might as well make sure the child was in better straits now than at the crack house. Though it would be hard for things to get much worse for her.

Otto nodded. "Come on then." Mo looked back at him dubiously. They had to go over rooftops. She wouldn't be able to, which meant they would have to carry her. They didn't want to carry her. What if she made them disappear again?

He shooed Mo away and led Robin outside, three actuators gripping the wall. The fourth extended towards her grudgingly at his order. "May I?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I can keep up," she said. In the blink of an eye, she was up the side of the building and on the roof, looking down at him.

"Are you coming?" she called down with a smile.

Otto blinked. One moment she was there, the next she was at the top of the building. That was... impressive.

He smiled a little. Very impressive. Maybe she was what she claimed. He climbed up after her.

"So," he said. "A faerie."

Robin grinned at him. "Now you're gettin' it," she said. A little toying with the air around her kept the rain cascading around her body, coming within a hair's width of her, but not actually touching.

He took the lead, and she followed him, not traveling at her fastest pace--not by a long shot--but keeping an even stride. Soon they came up on a warehouse. Robin paused, hanging back a little from Otto. Better that the child see him first, before her.
Otto dropped in first, actuators shaking water from themselves. The blood had more or less washed off until they were left clean.

"Mouse?" he said, wiping water from his eyes. "Mouse, are you still here?"

Mouse peeked up from behind a crate, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She'd been tired from her day, and then had gotten comfortable with the blanket. But she was a light sleeper, and had woken at the sound of Otto and his actuators.

He was all wet. Of course, he would be wet, after going out in the rain. Which was silly of him, Mouse thought. She walked over and handed him the blanket. He needed it now. She was still damp, but he was far wetter than she was.

Movement from above caught her eye, and Mouse looked up. There was a woman there. She was squatted next to the skylight, watching them. Mouse moved a little closer to Otto, as the woman jumped down. She landed in a squat, then straightened. Mouse cocked her head at the strange sight. The actuators broke Otto's landing...how had the strange woman done it?

"Hello there," Robin greeted with a smile. Mouse squirmed back until she was behind Otto, frowning at her. The woman was dry, as if she'd been walking in the sun. How could she be dry when Otto was soaking wet?

Otto smiled his most reassuring at her. "It's alright, Mouse," he told her, displaying a gentleness he hadn't shown anyone since Rosie. "This is Robin Goodfellow. She's a friend." He arched an eyebrow at Goodfellow.

Robin smiled a little wider. "Of course I am." She dug around in her pocket, her arm going down further than it should have been able to. She pulled a chocolate bar out of the depths. Mouse's eyes went wide--it wasn't even squished. How had she done that?

The faerie kept eye contact with the girl, and held up the chocolate bar. Then she sat it on the crate nearest them and nudged it towards her. "You look like you deserve a treat," she said.

Most children would have known that taking candy from strangers was bad. But no one had ever told Mouse that. In her world, sharing food was how one fostered trust. She bit her lip, then snaked out a hand and took the chocolate. It disappeared into one of her pockets for later. But she gave Robin a small smile of her own.

Otto eyed the chocolate bar with momentary wariness, then nodded. Robin had just helped him take out the people who would hurt Mouse. It seemed improbable that she would turn around and try to poison her or something. Still, he gave the woman a stern look. If something did happen to Mouse, he would do to Robin Goodfellow what he'd done to the junkies.

"Mouse," he said softly, crouching to look at her with care for his bad leg, "Those men aren't going to hurt you again. You're safe from them now."

Mouse stared at him for a long moment. Safe was a relative term for her. Did this mean that they were gone? That she could go home and it would just be her and her mommy again?
The child hesitated, then put her arms around Otto's neck. She gave him as tight a hug as she could manage. Then she went over to his chair, and managed to nudge it a few inches in his direction. He seemed to be moving stiffly, and Mouse remembered his leg. He ought to be sitting.

Robin quirked a smile at the girl's actions. It was good to see that her spirit had not been completely broken by her life. Though it was curious...she was so quiet. Robin realized the child had not uttered a word since they had arrived. Strange, but it was not something she was going to call her on. It clearly wasn't out of the ordinary, given Otto's reaction.

Otto hugged her back and let her go when she withdrew. She was a sweet child.

"Thank you," he told her, then limped to the chair she indicated and sat in it. God, his leg ached. Supporting the four actuators while they'd been lashing about had been harder than he'd thought, and his leg was letting him know that it did not approve.

Robin crossed her arms, studying the man. He was in pain, that much was clear. She wasn't much of a healer, but she'd managed to relieve his pain earlier. Maybe a slightly stronger trick would do more good. A bit of Glamour sparked around her fingers as she mentally prepared the spell. She didn't send out a visible Glamour for fear that the machines may be jumpy after her trick. This was just enough to soothe his pains, hopefully enough for him to be able to rest.

The fire in his leg ebbed, too suddenly for it to have just stopped hurting on its own. For a moment Otto thought the actuators might have cut off his pain receptors, but Flo and the others seemed just as surprised as he was.

Robin. It had to be Robin. He looked up at her, frowning slightly. As welcome as the pain relief was, he wasn't sure how he felt about her messing with his body.

Mouse moved to where her belongings had been drying, and gathered them into her bag. If the bad men were gone, then she could go home now. Granted, it was raining...but maybe her mommy would fix her a bath, and read her a bedtime story. It would be like it was before her gran died. She whispered into Tonto's ear, and patted his head, putting him in the bag last. Ready, she put the bag over her shoulder, and wondered if she ought to tell Otto goodbye. She wouldn't need a hideout anymore now. But she could still try to come and see him sometimes.

Otto glanced towards Mouse at Larry's chirp. "Where are you going?" he asked her.

Mouse looked at him, a little confused. Surely he knew? The bad men were gone. She was going home.

Robin followed his gaze to the girl. Centuries of existence made her well adept at reading human behavior. She saw the hope that lurked in the girl's eyes. "Oh sweetie," Robin sighed. Damn, this was not going to be easy. And she felt worse for Otto, because even if Robin told her, it wouldn't ring true until it came from someone she trusted.

The faerie looked at the scientist, leaning against one of the crates. "She thinks she's going home," she explained softly.

Mouse caught the words, and the confusion on her face deepened. Why wouldn't she be going home?

"Oh." He hadn't thought of this. This honestly had not occurred to him. He felt a pang of guilt. Mouse's mother had left- he'd sent her away. How to tell Mouse this... should he tell her the truth, or lie a little?

"Mouse... I'm sorry, Mouse, but your mother won't be there."

Larry edged towards her, chirping softly and nuzzling at her hand.

Mouse petted Larry absently, still looking puzzled. Why wouldn't her mother be there? Unless...unless she had gone with Devon and the others. Yes, that made sense. But would she really just leave her alone? Or had Otto told her mother that he would take care of her?

The weight of what he had said hit her, and she let the bag fall as she sat down. She was stupid, Mouse knew that. For years the only words sent her way were what a worthless stupid retard she was. But rarely had these words come from her mother. Mouse lived for the pats on the head and rare shows of affection that her mommy showed her. She had always thought that it was just Devon and the powders and drugs that made her mommy ignore her. But maybe...maybe they had been right. Maybe her mommy didn't love her anymore--hadn't loved her since Devon had showed her that Mouse was stupid and clumsy and not worthy of being a real girl with a real home.

Tears prickled at her eyes, and Mouse ducked her head, letting her hair fall into her face. The tears fell silently, and for once she made no effort to push them away.

Robin felt a dull ache in her heart for the child. She had it in her power to make this easier for her--to make the memory of her mother fade. But she was hesitant to do that unless it was absolutely necessary.

Larry curled around her shoulders, still chirping. The actuator looked back at Otto. sad

Yes, she was very sad. Slowly, Otto went to her and knelt, hugging her. "I'm sorry, Mouse."

Mouse had flinched at the cold metal, but once she realized the actuator wasn't angry, she didn't try to move away. Then Otto was there, and she let him hug her, though she made no moves to reciprocate.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen now, and that was a scary thing. If she couldn't go home...if her mommy didn't want her anymore, then who would? Who could possibly want a stupid little mute brat of a child?

He had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn't safely keep a child here. How could he? Letting her stay for a few hours was one thing, but long term? The warehouse was no place for a little girl to live... And he wasn't exactly safe to be around. What if the police found him, or one of the local superheroes? Spiderman wasn't much of a problem anymore, though Otto would like to avoid him if he could, but what about Daredevil? This was Daredevil territory, after all.

But he wanted to keep her. He wanted to keep her with him, and keep her safe. But he couldn't... Damn it all to hell.

Otto drew back, pulling off his goggles and looking at her. It was just bright enough in here to make him squint, not quite bad enough to actually hurt.

"I want you to stay with me for a while," he said. He pulled out the two books Robin had found and held them out to Mouse. "Is that alright?"

Mouse looked up at him through tangled bits of hair, tears staining her face. She hesitantly reached out for the books. They were her books, the only two books she'd ever had of her own. She couldn't read them, though she liked to look at the pictures and make up the stories herself. Sometimes she remembered bits from when her gran would read to her. Nowadays, she mostly made them up.

He had fixed them somehow, made them prettier. But then, Otto was very clever. It didn't surprise her that he could find a way to fix her books. And he wanted her too. Why, she didn't know, but it was something. It was a start, and that was all she needed.

Running a hand over one of the covers, she sat the books aside, and sat up on her knees to give Otto a proper hug. It wasn't as tight as the first, but she put her arms as far around him as she could, feeling the metal harness under his clothes. She gave him a small hug of thanks, and pulled back to wipe away some of her tears.

Robin watched the scene, feeling every bit the outsider she usually was. She wanted to help them, somehow. She wasn't sure how yet, but she was going to find a way to help these two mortals. They belonged together. Sometimes family wasn't about who you were born into, but who you found. She knew that--it had happened with her and Oberon, hadn't it?

He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. He had to squint a little against the light, but at least he could look at her directly.

"We'll figure something out," he promised her. "I don't know what yet, but for now, I want you here. It's going to be alright."

Larry nuzzled her cheek in agreement. Mo, meanwhile, had turned back to watch Robin, looking as suspicious as it could.

Robin rolled her eyes at the actuator, and popped out of view for a few seconds. She rounded the warehouse in a flash, setting up a ward that would mask the scent of two humans living within it. It also marked the territory as taken. No free ground here, move along. For the weaker-minded supernaturals that lived in the area, it would keep them from investigating too closely.

She came back into, reappearing on the other side of the room, near Otto's desk. The faerie looked over the scientific doo-dads with interest, picking up a coil of wire and toying with it. "Well then," she said brightly. "Any way I can be of service to the two of you?"

Mouse looked sharply at the woman. She hadn't been there a moment ago. Then she frowned at her being at Otto's desk. No one was supposed to touch the things on Otto's desk. That was bad.

"Please don't touch any of that," Otto said to the- God forbid he actually admit it- faerie. He sat Mouse down in his chair and limped over to Robin. "Miss Goodfellow, I'm taking an abused child under my protection, in a warehouse, in the middle of a city full of cops, superheroes, and various assorted criminals and costumed vigilantes who would quite like to take a crack at my hide, few of whom would care that there is a child who could get caught in the crossfire. If you have any suggestions, please, I would love to hear them."

Robin paused, tossed the ball of wire in the air, making it disappear and reappear with a slight of hand that any magician would kill for. "Hmm..." she mused, pacing around a little. "That is a problem. I haven't much experience with costumed vigilantes or any of that sort...but I suppose your best option is to stay out of sight as best you can. I can help with that."

At his look of annoyance, she rolled her eyes, and sat the wire back on the table. She caught sight of the girl hiding a yawn behind her hand, and smiled. "We'll take a few days to think on it. I'll bring you what you need as far as the necessities go. I'm sure if we put our heads together we can come up with something." She winked at Mouse, and walked over to pat Otto's arm.

"In the meantime..." A bright swirl of Glamour was sent over to the area that appeared to be Mouse's. A small bed appeared in the space. Low to the ground, as the child was used to sleeping on the floor, but its wooden frame helped it look as though it belonged among the crates. A dusky pink blanket and two soft pillows sat at the head.

"Every little girl needs a comfy place to sleep," she said.

The scientist glanced down at the faerie who stood by him, her hand still on his arm. The actuators looked too.

matter from nothing cannot be done not without tremendous quantities of energy how does she do it

"That's not going to disappear at midnight, is it?" he asked dryly, one eyebrow raised as he dropped the goggles back over his eyes to shield them from the light. "Isn't that how these things work?"

Robin put a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow at the man. Scientists. Most disbelieving of any mortals. "Do I strike you as the type to give something to a little girl then take it away again?" she asked.

Granted, there were some of her kind who would, and laugh at the tears. But Robin liked children. She liked the innocence in their eyes, and this little girl had lost too much already. The Puck was finding that she wanted to put a bit of that spark back. And there was nothing like magic to do it.

"I don't know, Miss Goodfellow," he replied coolly. "I've only just met you, and you're reputed to be a notorious mischief maker. I know next to nothing about you and your kind. I am a scientist. When I do not know something, I either ask questions or conduct research into the problem. Given my lack of reliable research material and your presence, I concluded it would be best to ask you directly."

He pummeled his memory for a moment, trying to come up with anything he knew about faeries. It was scant, to say the least- he'd rarely listened in on discussions between Rosie's friends, one of whom was something of a scholar in folklore.

"Thank you, however. Is there some sort of ritual or something you require in exchange? Some token of thanks?"

Robin blinked at him, and tried very, very hard not to get offended. He was only a mortal, after all. "No. I'm doing this because I want to. I'm not some lowly brownie scraping up messes for cream and bread." Though, she did like cream. Most of her kind did.

Mouse hopped off the chair, and padded over to the bed. It was just the right height for her. She tentatively touched the soft bedspread. For her? Never mind how it had appeared...the lady was magic, like from the faerie tales. Maybe she was a fairy godmother, come to help her and Otto. He needed a fairy godmother too, after all.

"And I might be a mischief maker, but I do have standards. I do not perform such mischief upon children, especially not good ones." Though she had been known to make a few bullies cry in her time. It was only fair.

"As I said before, Miss Goodfellow, I know next to nothing of your kind. Very few universities these days have courses on faerie etiquette or a field guide to the various sorts. At least, none I attended or visited. But then, as a physicist I had remarkably little to do with history, literature, and folklore."

Mouse continued to stroke the soft bedcover. It was perfect. So perfect. She ran over to her bag, and pulled out Tonto. He was still a bit damp, but she didn't care. With exquisite care, she placed him in front of the top pillow. There. He looked as raggedy as she did, but he was right at home on the bed. He liked it, she could tell.

She looked over at Otto with a hopeful smile. She could keep it, right? It didn't take up much room, and it was in the part of the warehouse she normally occupied. It wouldn't be in his way at all.

He glanced at the hopeful-looking Mouse and nodded. Yes, she could keep it. Mo, meanwhile, was still inspecting the faerie. He gave her arm a nudge with his claw, as if testing to make sure she was solid.

"Behave," Otto told the actuator.

Robin lightly tapped the actuator on its head. "Oh, call me Robin. Miss Goodfellow sounds so...formal." And she did not do formal, unless it was for the Court. "Besides, a mortal course in folklore would do you little good. Legends get most things wrong."

She smiled as Mouse grinned broadly and climbed onto the bed. Robin sent out a gentle Glamour, slow sparks swirling over the child in a gentle brief glow. It finished drying her clothes, so that she would be more comfortable to sleep. Mouse looked down at her clothes, and gave Robin a shy smile of thanks.

"I never asked--what are these things of yours anyway?" Robin asked, lightly stroking Mo's head, as she had seen Mouse do to one of the others. "I'm not much good with machines, but these seem special."

Mo clicked softly, then submitted to the petting, murmuring to Otto that she had a knack for it.

"They are actuators," Otto explained, resting a hand on Flo's 'head' as she came up under it. The feminine actuator kept her gaze fixed on Robin, not quite so easily swayed by a bit of petting as her twin. "Intelligent, self-aware machines I designed to allow me to control nuclear fusion experiments. The one you have there is Mo, its twin is Flo, and the others are Larry and Harry." It was almost embarrassing, really, to have to say those names aloud. One did not look at one of these actuators and immediately think of it as a 'Larry'.

Robin cocked her head a little, mulling over what he was saying. "Actuators," she said slowly, tasting the word. She peered at the one under her hand. "Self-aware? Machines that think?"

Whatever was the world coming too? All this technology, sprung up in the last century. It made her head spin. "Come quite a long way from aqueducts and plows, haven't we?" she mulled, shaking her head. They even had names. Strange.

"Indeed we have." Otto's voice held more than a little pride as he petted Flo's 'head'. What wasn't to be proud of? These were his creation, after all. He'd dreamed them, designed them, built them, even taken time away from his nuclear research in order to help program them. They had exceeded every one of their original parameters and now... now they were almost alive. "They're smarter than most humans."

Mouse giggled softly as Larry snaked over to her. She had kicked off her boots, snuggling under the blanket on the bed. And the pillows were so soft. Tucking Tonto under one arm, she curled up on her side, so that she could still watch Robin and Otto. She chirped softly at Larry, and petted him.

Mo nudged Robin's hand. stopped petting why go back to it felt nice

"And they are worse than cats," Otto added. "Once you start petting them, you really have to distract them if you wish to stop."

Robin laughed. "Amazing. Absolutely amazing." Most of her kind were put off by technology--and for the most part, so was she. But these machines, acting and reacting and thinking as though they were alive...that was simply incredible.

She smiled at Mouse, getting comfy in her new bed. "Well, perhaps I ought to let the two of you get settled for the night." Time for mortals to sleep, but for her to play. She could get into all sorts of trouble in this city. And she intended to.

Mo withdrew with a chirp and returned to curl over Otto's shoulder. Its host nodded.

"Thank you for everything," he said. He hesitated for a moment, then smiled slightly and added, "Robin."

Pretty name. To be perfectly honest, a pretty girl too. Rosie's loss still hurt like a knife in the gut, but Robin was quite lovely.

She smiled, and inclined her head to him. "You are most welcome, Otto Octavius," she said. Walking over to Mouse's bed, she perched on the side for a moment.

"Sleep well, little one," she said. Mouse sat up, and after a moment, reached up to hug the woman. She wasn't how Mouse imagined a fairy godmother would look like, but she was nice, all the same. Robin returned the hug, sending out a light sleep spell. It wouldn't take hold immediately, but in the next few moments. The child needed a good deep healing sleep, after all that she had been through.

When Mouse pulled back, Robin smoothed back some of her hair fondly. Then she patted Tonto on the head, and stood.

"Robin?" Otto said.

She turned to face him. "Yes, Otto?" she asked.

He smiled a little at the name. It had been a while since anyone had just called him Otto.

"Thank you. We'll see you again?"

Robin nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Count on it," she answered. She faded into Shadow, an in-between realm sometimes used for traveling. She could still watch the real world, but it made it easier to access buildings and such. For now, she gave Otto and his Mouse one long last look, before smiling and heading off. She had plans to make.

Mouse snuggled back into her new bed, sleep pulling at her. She watched Otto, and smiled. At least she had someone in this world she could count on. That was something.

Robin faded into thin air, earning only a slight arch of the eyebrows this time. Otto's capacity to be shocked had been pretty much drained over the course of the evening. After a slight nod to the spot where she had stood, he went to Mouse's new bedside and tucked the covers more firmly around her, rather like he recalled his own mother doing.

"Sleep well, Mouse," he murmured, then went back to his desk.

Description
Please note: This chapter contains some moderate swearing in English and Greek, as well as Otto losing his temper in a very, shall we say, messy fashion. Nothing particularly explicit, so this won't be under a mature filter, but still not recommended for those under fifteen. Rated for violence, language, and dealing with child abuse.

Chapter 4: Enter the Faerie

Mouse looked up at the dark sky, flinching back from the thunder and lightning of the afternoon storm. The heat of the summer had finally begun to dissipate in September, but they had been having some terrible storms. She slid back the board that would grant her access to the warehouse, and slipped inside, as the wind whipped through her.

The child was already drenched, her mismatching clothing sticking to her skin. The effect made her seem even smaller than usual. Fingerprint bruising could be seen up and down her thin arms, and there were more hidden under her clothing. A dark bruise ran along the upper part of her jaw line into her scalp, and under her short dark blond hair were the marks wearing someone had gripped her by the back of the neck. Such markings were usual for Mouse, but she winced slightly as she moved today. Nights had been bad lately. Devon was having some sort of trouble with his suppliers, and it was making him more irritable than usual. Which meant that anytime Mouse stumbled into his path, she was bound to be on the receiving end of his anger.

Pulling the boards shut behind her, Mouse wrung out her hair and weaved through the stacked crates to where Otto had set up shop. Today, she pulled a boxed sandwich and a broken wrapped cookie out of her bag, and sat them carefully on the crate just off to Otto's side. The packages were a bit damp, and Mouse looked down at her bag and scowled--like her, the thing was soaked through. Moving off to her area of the warehouse, she started pulling things out of the messenger bag--bottles and cans, which she turned in for money, her teddy bear Tonto, and a sketchpad and crayons. A bottle of water and half sandwich. She sat everything out on a crate to dry, then sat the bag on its own crate.

The notebook looked to be a lost cause. Mouse opened it carefully, frowning at the pages that threatened to come apart in her hand. She had liked this notebook, and didn't want to have to toss it out now. It was one of the ones Otto had given her, and she'd been trying to take good care of them. Now this one had gotten ruined.

He'd become accustomed to the little girl who came by on a regular basis now. It was nice to have another human being around, even if it was a child. The last several months had been acutely lonely.

Larry, who seemed to like little Mouse the most, chirped a greeting when she came in out of the rain. Otto looked up. The child was soaked to the skin, as were most of the things she was pulling out of the messenger bag she always carried. She also looked dirtier than usual, with dark smudges on her skin. That was odd. Wet as she was, she ought to be relatively clean.

He turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable behind his goggles. The actuators turned with him, peering to get a better look. Then Flo hissed.

dirt not dirt bruises

"What?"

Flo reached out and curled gently around the girl, herding her closer to Otto as he came to meet her halfway, crouching so that he was at her level. He gripped her chin and turned her head so that the marks on her jaw were more easily seen. They were indeed bruises, dark, ugly looking purple and blue blotches, very fresh. They hadn't been there last night. While the sight of bruises on the child was not an uncommon one, these seemed worse than usual.

Mouse allowed Flo to herd her closer, though she looked at the actuator nervously. When Otto gripped her chin she froze, shrinking into herself and stifling the urge to run. Had she done something to make him angry? Anger led to pain, and Mouse did not want to make more people angry. Especially not Otto, as the actuators could do so much more than just a human hand.

She could have been stone under his hand, still as a statue. Her mind instinctively prepared itself for pain, preparing to let go and sail away, to save her from the worst of things. It was what she did when Devon hit her, what she did when Stevie came looking for her at night. She would imagine the birds and clouds and pretend she was up there with them, soaring above the city.

Otto felt sick at the very thought. Someone had done this to her. Someone had hurt Mouse, a girl who was as about as offensive as her namesake- that is, not at all. Someone had hit her, handled her roughly, had perhaps...

He was a monster, yes, but this... this was just plain wrong.

"Turn down the lights," he ordered. Harry chirped and did so, dimming the illumination where he could take off his heavy goggles without screaming in pain. He did so, looking at Mouse with hard brown eyes. "Who did this to you, Mouse? Was it someone at home?"

Mouse shrank back even further, growing more nervous when the lights were turned down. She did not like the dark. Bad things happened in the dark. And in the city, bad things lived in the dark. She did not want to think that Otto could be a bad thing. He had been nicer to her than most people in her life.

She ducked her head, tears of fear and shame coming to her eyes. She did not let them fall--not yet. Crying tended to make things worse, if they saw you do it. Even silent tears made Devon more angry. Mouse swallowed hard, trying to push the tears away. Why couldn't he just ignore the bruises like her mother did? Just let them keep on as they had been? She didn't bother him, and she tried to be nice by bringing him food. And sometimes he did nice things for her too. Why was he angry? Was it because she'd gotten hurt?

Otto realized he was shaking. One of the actuators- Mo, he thought- flexed its claws into the floor, crushing the boards into splinters and leaving a Y-shaped gouge in them. Mouse flinched hard at the sound, but it snapped him out of the furious daze. He blinked, and saw the glimmer of tears welling up in Mouse's eyes. He was scaring her.

"I'm sorry, Mouse," he said softly, giving her a hug. "This isn't your fault."

It took several moments for his words and actions to register completely to her brain. When they did, she merely blinked at him, confused. How was this not her fault? It was always her fault.

He pulled back, the actuators drawing around him- all except Larry, who curled around Mouse and chittered. There was an angry note to the actuator's 'vocalization', which matched the angry tone of its 'voice' in his head. Larry was furious. Of all the actuators, it had taken the greatest liking to Mouse, and it wanted to tear the people who'd hurt her to pieces.

Frankly, Otto wanted to as well.

"This is not your fault," he repeated, looking into the little girl's face. "The people who hurt you were wrong to do that." So, it seemed that semester of psychology he'd been required to take had paid off a little. "You're staying here tonight. You're not going back there again if I have anything to say about it."

If the actuators had anything to say about it, there wouldn't be a 'back there' for her to go to. Not for long.

Mouse patted Larry a bit nervously, then slid out from under the actuator. The angry chittering of the machines were keeping her from relaxing. Despite Otto's words, she could tell he was angry. And it was because of her.

She slunk back to her corner, and picked up her teddy bear. He was soggy, but hugging him still made him feel better. Mouse tucked him under an arm and started putting her bottles and everything else back into her bag. When she had finished, she started to slink back to her entrance. She might not go home, but she didn't want to make Otto angry either. She would just go to one of her old hideouts for awhile. But Larry stopped her before she could go too far towards her entrance, powerful jaws clamping down on her arm delicately.

"No, Mouse," Otto said. "Please don't go. I need you to stay here. I am not angry with you."

Mouse whimpered a little, though Larry's grip on her didn't hurt. She was confused by Otto's actions--it took her a moment to realize that, while Otto was angry, he was not directing the anger at her.

"Stay here," he repeated once more. "You're going to be alright. No one is going to hurt you anymore, understand?"

Larry released its hold on her arm and nuzzled her, though it continued to make those agitated clicking sounds. get the ones that did this kill them rip them apart make them hurt too

'As soon as we get there,' Otto promised silently. Aloud, he said, "Stay here, stay dry. I'll be back soon."

Mouse bit her lip, and slowly sat her bag back on the crate. She hugged Tonto tightly, a little bit of water running out of the worn bear onto her shoes. Looking up at Otto, she nodded her understanding slowly. She would stay put, because he had told her too.

The girl started pulling her things back out of her bag, shivering a little as cool air breezed through the drafty warehouse. There was a loud clap of thunder, and she jumped, looking up at the ceiling, as though afraid the thunder would come crashing through. Otto nodded and directed Larry to drape a blanket over her shoulders. No use getting her away from that place if she was going to get sick. The actuator obeyed and gave her one final nuzzle before it rejoined its father and siblings. There was work to do.

Heavy metal claws made a distinctive clanking thud on the ground as Doctor Octopus went out into the thunderstorm. He was soaked within minutes, but he didn't care. The heat given off by the nuclear power packs in the actuators' harness kept him warm enough. More importantly, the actuators allowed him to take to the rooftops, and to see through the rainy dimness of the stormy late afternoon with ease. Following his mental map, he headed off in the direction of the crack house Mouse called a home.

Robin Goodfellow--also known as The Puck--had heard some very interesting things about some of the ghettos of Manahata--modern day Manhattan. She was on free reign from the Court, and had been bounding around the city for a few nights now. Now she was in Hell's Kitchen, looking for a bit of fun. Scaring the junkies had been fun—they usually thought her illusions were some sort of hallucination—but she'd just about had her fill of that. She needed some fresh mischief.

There was a loud thunking sound overhead. Robin looked up, shrugged, and followed it. Perhaps Hermes was sending something interesting her way.

Samantha Mercer had grown up in Hell's Kitchen. She'd gotten knocked up in high school, and had always resented that fact, just a bit. Her own mother had taken care of baby Maggie—quickly nicknamed Mouse, for her size. Evelyn Mercer was everything to her granddaughter that her daughter was not. Samantha had worked various dead-end jobs to support her child, but never felt the maternal instinct that Evelyn thought she should. She loved her child, to some extent. Once she had gotten a little bigger, Samantha had enjoyed playing games with her. Her Maggie Mouse was a cute little girl, and Samantha could dress her up like a doll. But at best, Mouse had been a source for entertainment. At worst, she felt like a ball and chain.

But then Evelyn had died, and the stress of taking care of a four year old on her own was too much. Samantha had never lost touch with some of the people she'd gone to high school with—few people left Hell's Kitchen. Reconnecting with Devon had been easy. He'd come over, brought some stuff...and for the first time in four years, she'd felt free. It was like falling off a cliff. When Devon and his friends had needed a place to stay, she let them move in. It had gone downhill from there, but she didn't care. She had sex, drugs, and felt better than she had in years. Her daughter faded into the background, and Samantha didn't care.

So she ignored the noises that came from her daughter's room at night, and if Devon was a little rough with her sometimes...well, then the girl ought to know to stay out of his way by now. Devon was right, after all…Mouse was a retard, and wouldn't amount to anything anyway. Why should she waste her time on a daughter who couldn't even talk?

A storm was raging outside, but it was all good inside. Devon passed her a joint, and Samantha took it with a smile. If the fact that her child was outside in such a storm bothered her, she didn't show it.

Otto looked down at the building, gloved hands clenched into fists. There it was. The crack house. Mouse's home. A run-down little place in the middle of a hellhole. He knew he could still walk away from this, give an anonymous tip to the police, and let them take care of it.

Like Hell he could. This was Hell's Kitchen. The police who were willing to actually do their jobs still wouldn't be worried about one neglected little girl. Besides, none of them knew what someone down there had done to Mouse. None of them would care.

Flo reared over him, parting its jaws wide to get the clearest view for its camera. The infrared feed showed him six hotspots, all on the same floor of the building. Six was two more than he could immediately handle, but he was counting on the fact that they would likely be stoned to the gills and not much of a threat.

He waited for a flicker of lightning to lick across the sky overhead before jumping. The actuators had been timing the storm, and so were able to direct the jump so that they landed as the thunder crashed, effectively hiding the sound of impact. Thunder did not, however, disguise the wrenching sound the door made when Mo ripped it from its hinges and tossed it inside.

Otto stalked inside, momentarily backlight by another flash of lightning that made him look like some tentacled, Cthulu-esque demon. The room was as run-down as the outside of the building, people scattered about on battered couches or armchairs or even just slumped in a corner. The stink of marijuana hit him immediately with almost palpable force.

"Which one of you," he snarled, "Which one of you sick bastards hurt her?" Flo and Mo and Larry curled over his shoulders, snapping and casting their bloody red lights over the scene as Harry planted itself on the floor for support.

A few of the junkies blinked at the man standing in the doorway. Devon had his arm around Samantha, and cocked his head. So, the famed Doc Ock lived and was right there in his house. One hand inched towards the gun in his waistband. "Gonna have to be more specific with that, brother," he said. "Who's 'her'?"

Robin perched on a fire escape railing, watching the strange man with metal arms rip into a house that reeked of drugs. Interesting indeed. She jumped down the four stories to the ground, and slunk closer. She was invisible to mortal eyes for now--all the better to watch the party. An old line ran through her head. 'An actor too perhaps if I see fit…'

who's her who's her indeed we'll show you who

Two actuators shot at the speaker, one clamping its jaws around his chest and the other tearing the woman from his side. Otto directed Flo to be more careful with her- he had a vague notion that Mouse's tormentor was more likely to be a male. At least, if his own father was any judge...

That did not, of course, mean that Flo was in any way gentle. It was just less rough as it shoved her into a moth-eaten armchair and curled back to watch the other junkies. They, at least, were too stoned to do much of anything.

"The girl," Otto said. Mo shook its captive like a terrier with a rat, though it was careful not to snap his neck by accident. That was the lovely thing about the actuators- they could fine-tune their strength to the occasion at hand. "Mouse."

Devon looked at the actuator holding him, too stoned to be truly afraid. He aimed the gun at Samantha. "Stupid bitch. Why didn't you drown that worthless brat at birth?"

Samantha eyed the gun and tossed the used joint on the floor. "Mouse is fine," she told the strange man. "If she got hurt, it's her own fault. She knows better than to get underfoot." One finger dipped into the powder Stevie had in a tin, and went into her nose. "What do you care anyway?"

Robin crept closer, standing in the doorway behind the man. So, a child had been hurt. This man was seeking vengeance. Good. She could do with a fight, and the cause was worthy enough to justify it to her lord. Perfect.

He thought he'd been angry before. Now, though...

gun gun he has a gun The actuators did not like guns- run-ins with armed police shooting at them tended to leave a machine with that impression.

"Then get rid of it," Otto said. He was shaking now.

gladly Mo reared up, then slammed its captive into the wall. There was a sharp bang as the handgun went off, but Otto heard no sudden cries of pain, so the bullet hadn't hit anyone. The gun dropped from the man's fingers as Mo slammed him into the wall again. Cheap wooden panels crumpled like paper. So did the man.

Otto ignored the man's pitiful cries and whirled to face the woman. "I care," he spat, "Because she is a child, and you-" Flo screeched, knocked the tin away, and smacked the woman to the floor. "Have allowed her to be hurt. You sicken me, woman. Your own daughter, damn you!"

Robin felt her blood start to boil with rage. Parents were meant to protect their children. Children were gifts, precious in every sense. This piece of skata had allowed her's to be injured?

Stevie, not quite as stoned as his friends, began to squirm. He slid away from Samantha, inching towards the door. Mouse didn't talk, not ever...but what if she had? He looked at the limp form of Devon, and decided he didn't want to take that chance.

Robin leaned against the doorway, and became visible just as the man neared her. "Where you goin'?" she asked casually, hands in her pockets. She could smell the sweet smell of a child on this man. In all the ways that she hated. In the old days, children had been sold as slaves or used as sacrifices for the gods. But the world had grown wiser since then. Even one with a libido such as hers would never dream of looking at a child in that manner.

One hand shot out, connecting with the nervous man's chest. Robin effortlessly pushed him back into the room, throwing him at the feet of the man-machine. "This a private party?" she asked. "Or can anyone join in?"

Two actuators whirled to eye the newcomer. She was petite, brown-haired, wearing dark jeans and tank top under an army-green jacket that was vaguely reminiscent of the one Otto wore now, though it was shorter. A brief analysis of Otto's memories classified her as being of a type he favored, though what he would make of the fact that she'd tossed a grown man nearly a foot taller than she was across the room without even blinking they had no idea.

who is she yes this is a private party what is she doing here perhaps could make exception to invitation-only rule strength may not be her only power damn mutants

Otto glanced up at the newcomer to look for himself, light glinting off the dark lenses of his goggles. A dozen questions flashed through his mind- chief among them 'Who the hell are you?'- but he quashed them. "Be my guest," he said, and looked back down at the woman. "Get out of my sight," he snapped at her. "If I ever see you again, I will peel the flesh from your bones and leave what's left in the sewers for the rats."

Samantha rose and headed for the door, before some spark of material instinct sounded in her head. "Where is she?" she asked, sounding a little lost herself. Surely she couldn't just leave her child.

"You don't deserve to know that," Otto informed Mouse's mother. "She's safe, which is more than she ever was with you. Now get out."

Robin eyed the woman with an impassive eye. The man on the floor was trying to crawl away. She rolled her eyes, and pushed him down with a foot. "If you're looking for someone who's been after a child," she started, "you might ought to deal with this one next. He absolutely reeks of child." She leaned down, her green eyes flashing dangerously as she got in Stevie's face. "Why don't you tell the nice man just what you like about little girls, you sorry piece of skata from the depths of Hades?"

Larry studied the younger woman for a moment, then extended the eighteen-inch spike it carried, pressing it delicately and quite deliberately against the pedophile's groin. The actuator knew Otto's revulsion for what the woman had implied and they were extensions of Otto's will. And Otto wanted to hurt this man.

"Why bother letting him talk?" Otto snarled. "The poison will only get on you too." He gave Larry the order, and the actuator savagely bore down on its captive.

A smile slowly spread over Robin's face as she watched the man writhe in pain. "Most impressive," she commented. She wasn't supposed to hurt mortals when it could be avoided, but that didn't mean she couldn't put them in situations to be injured. Or killed, as this sihama would more than likely bleed to death before he got any help.

Samantha was lingering in the doorway, guilt in her eyes. Robin snarled, and stalked to her, grabbing her arm. Leaning in, she began whispering in a harsh tone in her ear. This went on for several minutes, the mortal's eyes growing large and fearful. At last, Robin released her, and the woman finally fled from the house.

Robin turned to eye the remaining junkies in the room. The one that had been thrown into the wall was beginning to stir. She put her hands on her hips, surveying the room. "Which ones do you want?" she asked.

"The ones that hurt Mouse," Otto replied. He looked dispassionately down at the man writhing on the floor. The groin area had quite a few large blood vessels around it. His victim would probably bleed to death. He hesitated a moment, debating whether to make the death quick or slow.

The memory of Mouse, the way the skin on her face and arms had darkened with bruising, the way she flinched when he, an adult male, got upset or even happened to stare into space in her direction for too long, stayed his hand. This man did not deserve a swift demise. Let him bleed.

She assumed that Mouse was the child. Sniffing the air, she pointed at the one against the wall, and the one on the ground. "I think they're it," she said. Stalking over to where two others were huddled in a drug-induced haze, she crouched and bared her teeth at them. "Want to play a game?" she asked innocently.

The pair looked at each other, looked at her, and stumbled to their feet, running for the door. She straightened and let them go.

Leaving the metal man to his fun, she breezed through the house, tracking the scent of the child to a room with a dirty mattress, old blanket and a pillow that might have been mistaken for a pancake. Robin shook her head, and picked up two worn children's books and two sketchpads from the floor next to the makeshift bed. She gave the bed one last glance, enraged at the things she smelled there. But she reminded herself of the man dying downstairs. There was no true justice for stealing the innocence of a child, but at least he would not go easy.

She headed back down the stairs, books in hand, to see the man's handiwork. The Puck had never seen anything quite like the four metal arms, and was quite fascinated by them.

Otto had allowed the actuators free reign with the remaining men who had hurt Mouse. He simply stood there and let them enact his dark desires for them.

To his distant surprise, he noticed that the actuators crushed none of their victims, either with their claws or by constricting around them like pythons. He'd thought that they might try it, but instead they snapped the neck of one man by twisting his head around, and lashed the other one about in a cruel parody of a child's 'crack the whip' game, snapping tendons and bones alike and leaving him screaming on the floor before Larry stabbed him through the throat.

"Never again," Otto growled. "Never again will you hurt her."

Robin stood on the last step of the staircase, watching the show. How interesting. She'd heard rumors of strange men, running about the city in costumes and the like. But this one seemed...different. He wasn't trying to be a hero, he was just correcting a wrong. In a savage way that very much appealed to her hobgoblin nature.

There was one last junkie, huddled near the stairs. The scent of the child on him made Robin's head turn sharply, her eyes flashing Glamour green. Cocking her head, she moved towards him, trying to determine if the scent was from living in the same space or if he had hurt her. "What about you then, boyo?" she asked, leaning a hand against the wall by his head. "You make some fun of your own?"

The man quivered, and the acid scent of urine filled the air. "I ain't never touched that child," he said in a shaking voice. "Little kid came and went. What did I care, so long as she stayed out of the way?" Hell, he'd even made her a sandwich once, when he'd caught her lingering near the kitchen and he'd been making his own.

Robin sniffed again, but found no lie in his eyes. Fear, yes, but no lies. She jerked a packet of powder from his hands, frowning at it. Chemicals. The strange chemicals that mortals insisted on poisoning themselves with. Opiates and the gods only knew what else. She tossed it aside with a growl.

"Do yourself a favor, and clean yourself up," she snarled, her eyes glowing bright green. "Stop wasting the pathetic life the gods gave you." The man nodded, and as she stepped back, ran for the back door. Robin turned to see if the man was finished. Well...there certainly wasn't much more he could do to the damned souls. She nodded her approval. Let Hades cast them into the deepest circles of Tartarus, to receive their punishments.

She approached the man with one eye on the metal snakes around him. Robin knew that she was faster than they were, but one had to be aware to have the advantage. She extended the books to him. "Thought your little friend might want these back," she said with a shrug. The books were old and stained, though the sketchbooks appeared brand new. She could feel the child's presence on them. They had been handled lovingly, almost reverently. Yes, she would want them in her new home, wherever that may be.

He was still trembling a little, though most of his rage had been spent with the lives of the junkies. They were dead, and would never be able to hurt Mouse again.

Flo shook herself, complaining that it would take ages to clean the blood from her claws and joints. Funny, how they hadn't complained after the hospital.

Turning, he looked closer at the young woman who'd shown up and so eerily pinpointed who deserved to die. She was holding out two worn picture books. Through Flo's camera he could read the titles- The Velveteen Rabbit and, he thought rather appropriately, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. Otto took them from her, brow knitted slightly. "Who are you?"

Robin smiled, sticking her hands in her back pockets. "The Puck," she said. "Also known as Robin Goodfellow. And who might you be? Not every day I run across a part-mechanical avenger of wrongs."

She watched as a few of the tentacles swooped closer to track her. Cocking her head at the strange machines, she waggled a few fingers at the bright red lights. Perhaps a camera of sorts, as they seemed able to see on their own. Most new technology was beyond her, but some of it she still grasped.

what the hell is she puck what kind of name is puck is she not human readings do not match too hot what is that energy field around her what the hell

The actuators continued with their confused relay of their analyses, chattering and craning about to look at her from all angles and available spectra. She called herself Puck. He knew that name- Rosie had dragged him to a couple performances, both in Central Park and ones put on by the ESU drama department. A Midsummer Night's Dream was one of her favorite Shakespearian plays.

"You're Puck," he said flatly, one eyebrow raised. "Really, girl, do you honestly expect me to believe you're the Puck? 'Shrewd and knavish sprite' and all that? Do I look that gullible?"

Robin sighed. "At least you know the name. That's something." So many didn't, not anymore. "To think there was a time when every peasant in Britannia knew me." She shook her head. "Here. Might as well make those a little more presentable for a little girl."

Sparkling green pinwheels of Glamour came from her hand, and were sent over to cover the books in his hands. The tears and soiled spots were fixed, though she left marks that showed the books were well-worn and loved. The pages were still soft, not stiff and new. Raising an eyebrow at him, she allowed a small quirk of a smile at his expression. Priceless, that.

Otto stared at the flare of green light, though it was bright enough to hurt his eyes a little, even through his goggles. The tears and stains on the books were gone, just like that, just like...

like magic magic does not exist cannot exist some application of unknown energy field how the hell did she do that

He and two actuators looked up at the girl. "How the hell did you do that?" he asked.

Robin gave him a smile. "Magic," she said simply. "I am a faerie, after all. Or is further demonstration required?"

She could do with a bit of showing off. The Puck always liked to perform, after all. And when the audience was such a fascinating one as this...

a faerie what clap your hands if you believe

Otto laughed harshly, the sound more appropriate to Doctor Octopus than to Otto Octavius himself. "A faerie. My dear girl, you will have to demonstrate very thoroughly to get me to believe that you are a faerie and not some delusional mutant. I have never believed in faeries."

Robin clutched her chest for a moment, as if stabbed. Then she smirked, and rolled her eyes. "Good thing Barrie's mumbo-jumbo is false, or we would have all died out ages ago." She rubbed her hands together, an impish smile blooming on her face. Her brilliance sometimes amazed even herself.

"Alright then, maestro. You want a demonstration? I'll give you a demonstration."

More green Glamour cartwheeled around her hands, as she thrust them towards him. The lights swirled around him for a moment, before a new man emerged. No strange metal arms this time. The machines were hidden, and the man's ragged attire replaced with something more...approachable. He looked perfectly normal--and rather handsome, now that she saw him properly.

what

The actuators just had time for that panicked exclamation before there was a swirling of lights and then- nothing. No voices in his head, no metal arms attached to his back, nothing to help keep his weight off his bad leg, which was hurting more than usual after all the fun. Otto grimaced and hurriedly shifted to the other side as pain flared up his right leg and into his spine.

"What did you do?" he demanded, looking at her with something between shock and horror.

Robin smiled, and conjured up a full length mirror. She held it before the man, so that he could see himself properly. "Do you believe me yet?" she asked.

He seemed to be in some pain, so she extended a general soothing Glamour--no lights for this one, they were mostly for show. Just a little something to help with the pain. She watched the man examine himself, waiting for him to either declare the whole thing mad or find some other explanation for what she had done.

The pain faded as she gestured again. That, perhaps more than the disappearance of the actuators or the sudden change of his clothing, made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. She may or may not be a faerie, as she claimed, but she definitely had power of some kind.

"You're something," he admitted. "I don't know what."

Robin rolled her eyes, and extended a hand. With a snap of her fingers, the illusion was broken. The mirror gone, the man's original appearance intact. He staggered a little, the actuators scritching and snapping in agitation. They did not like being made to disappear. They really did not like that. And yet they did not strike at her, instead maintaining a safe distance. There was something new in their manner- fear. They were afraid. For the first time, they had come up against something they could not fight, couldn't comprehend. And that scared him.

"Look at me," Robin said, indicating her clothing. "It's storming outside, yeah? Pouring cats and dogs, as they say. If I'm not a faerie--or some other kind of creature with ties to nature--then what am I?" Her clothes were dry, after all. She was not the least bit damp. She could control the elements, to some extent, which might that if she wanted to stay dry, then she did.

"I- more illusions," he said. "You could be a mutant with very powerful skills at illusion creation."

She cocked her head at him. "Mutant?" she asked, confused. She stirred the word around in her head for a few moments...was that what they were calling the humans who were turning up with powers? The evolved ones? It sounded right. Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair. "Sweet and mighty Zeus. Ah well." She rubbed her forehead and shrugged. "No one does denial like mortals. It's rather sweet, I suppose." At least, until that ignorance got you eaten.

Robin gave the man a smile and a shrug. "You ought to get back to your friend. Going to be dark soon--not a safe time to be out and about. Nasty things live in the dark."

Flo snapped at the air, jaws coming together with a clang of metal. They could handle anything in the dark that would dare try and cross their path. Anything like this self-proclaimed 'faerie' would get struck down before it had a chance to make them disappear.

"I know that," Otto said. "Not much is scarier than I am, Miss Goodfellow. Not in this city." He tucked the books into his pocket. Glancing at her through his goggles, he hesitated a moment. Perhaps he ought to extend some sort of courtesy? She had power. And she had helped him...

she made us disappear

Better to make friends with the person who could make his greatest weapons an allies vanish at the snap of her fingers than to make an enemy of her.

He extended his hand. "Doctor Otto Octavius."

Robin inclined her head to him, accepting his hand. "Well met, Otto Octavius," she answered. She sniffed the air, taking in the parts of his scent.

"And perhaps there is not much tougher than you, but there are creatures who troll warehouses and the like. If they catch the scent of a little girl alone..." she let the warning hang in the air. All sorts of supernatural predators lurked in urban areas. Revenants, wolves, incubi, succubi...they came in all breeds, and most of them fed on humans. No, they would not pass up the chance to feed on a child left unattended.

He had the distinct impression that she was sniffing him. It was a distinctly odd feeling. Humans didn't do that. Could she, possibly, be what she claimed?

ridiculous no such thing as faeries

Mo curved over his shoulder, looking directly into the girl's face, examining her closely.

ears pointed ears look

They were, slightly pointed where most other people's would curve.

He shivered slightly and withdrew his hand. "Thank you for your assistance. Do you wish to meet the child you helped avenge?"

Robin blinked at him, tucking a strand of hair behind a slightly pointed ear. "Uh...sure. I suppose. Why not?" Might as well make sure the child was in better straits now than at the crack house. Though it would be hard for things to get much worse for her.

Otto nodded. "Come on then." Mo looked back at him dubiously. They had to go over rooftops. She wouldn't be able to, which meant they would have to carry her. They didn't want to carry her. What if she made them disappear again?

He shooed Mo away and led Robin outside, three actuators gripping the wall. The fourth extended towards her grudgingly at his order. "May I?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I can keep up," she said. In the blink of an eye, she was up the side of the building and on the roof, looking down at him.

"Are you coming?" she called down with a smile.

Otto blinked. One moment she was there, the next she was at the top of the building. That was... impressive.

He smiled a little. Very impressive. Maybe she was what she claimed. He climbed up after her.

"So," he said. "A faerie."

Robin grinned at him. "Now you're gettin' it," she said. A little toying with the air around her kept the rain cascading around her body, coming within a hair's width of her, but not actually touching.

He took the lead, and she followed him, not traveling at her fastest pace--not by a long shot--but keeping an even stride. Soon they came up on a warehouse. Robin paused, hanging back a little from Otto. Better that the child see him first, before her.
Otto dropped in first, actuators shaking water from themselves. The blood had more or less washed off until they were left clean.

"Mouse?" he said, wiping water from his eyes. "Mouse, are you still here?"

Mouse peeked up from behind a crate, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She'd been tired from her day, and then had gotten comfortable with the blanket. But she was a light sleeper, and had woken at the sound of Otto and his actuators.

He was all wet. Of course, he would be wet, after going out in the rain. Which was silly of him, Mouse thought. She walked over and handed him the blanket. He needed it now. She was still damp, but he was far wetter than she was.

Movement from above caught her eye, and Mouse looked up. There was a woman there. She was squatted next to the skylight, watching them. Mouse moved a little closer to Otto, as the woman jumped down. She landed in a squat, then straightened. Mouse cocked her head at the strange sight. The actuators broke Otto's landing...how had the strange woman done it?

"Hello there," Robin greeted with a smile. Mouse squirmed back until she was behind Otto, frowning at her. The woman was dry, as if she'd been walking in the sun. How could she be dry when Otto was soaking wet?

Otto smiled his most reassuring at her. "It's alright, Mouse," he told her, displaying a gentleness he hadn't shown anyone since Rosie. "This is Robin Goodfellow. She's a friend." He arched an eyebrow at Goodfellow.

Robin smiled a little wider. "Of course I am." She dug around in her pocket, her arm going down further than it should have been able to. She pulled a chocolate bar out of the depths. Mouse's eyes went wide--it wasn't even squished. How had she done that?

The faerie kept eye contact with the girl, and held up the chocolate bar. Then she sat it on the crate nearest them and nudged it towards her. "You look like you deserve a treat," she said.

Most children would have known that taking candy from strangers was bad. But no one had ever told Mouse that. In her world, sharing food was how one fostered trust. She bit her lip, then snaked out a hand and took the chocolate. It disappeared into one of her pockets for later. But she gave Robin a small smile of her own.

Otto eyed the chocolate bar with momentary wariness, then nodded. Robin had just helped him take out the people who would hurt Mouse. It seemed improbable that she would turn around and try to poison her or something. Still, he gave the woman a stern look. If something did happen to Mouse, he would do to Robin Goodfellow what he'd done to the junkies.

"Mouse," he said softly, crouching to look at her with care for his bad leg, "Those men aren't going to hurt you again. You're safe from them now."

Mouse stared at him for a long moment. Safe was a relative term for her. Did this mean that they were gone? That she could go home and it would just be her and her mommy again?
The child hesitated, then put her arms around Otto's neck. She gave him as tight a hug as she could manage. Then she went over to his chair, and managed to nudge it a few inches in his direction. He seemed to be moving stiffly, and Mouse remembered his leg. He ought to be sitting.

Robin quirked a smile at the girl's actions. It was good to see that her spirit had not been completely broken by her life. Though it was curious...she was so quiet. Robin realized the child had not uttered a word since they had arrived. Strange, but it was not something she was going to call her on. It clearly wasn't out of the ordinary, given Otto's reaction.

Otto hugged her back and let her go when she withdrew. She was a sweet child.

"Thank you," he told her, then limped to the chair she indicated and sat in it. God, his leg ached. Supporting the four actuators while they'd been lashing about had been harder than he'd thought, and his leg was letting him know that it did not approve.

Robin crossed her arms, studying the man. He was in pain, that much was clear. She wasn't much of a healer, but she'd managed to relieve his pain earlier. Maybe a slightly stronger trick would do more good. A bit of Glamour sparked around her fingers as she mentally prepared the spell. She didn't send out a visible Glamour for fear that the machines may be jumpy after her trick. This was just enough to soothe his pains, hopefully enough for him to be able to rest.

The fire in his leg ebbed, too suddenly for it to have just stopped hurting on its own. For a moment Otto thought the actuators might have cut off his pain receptors, but Flo and the others seemed just as surprised as he was.

Robin. It had to be Robin. He looked up at her, frowning slightly. As welcome as the pain relief was, he wasn't sure how he felt about her messing with his body.

Mouse moved to where her belongings had been drying, and gathered them into her bag. If the bad men were gone, then she could go home now. Granted, it was raining...but maybe her mommy would fix her a bath, and read her a bedtime story. It would be like it was before her gran died. She whispered into Tonto's ear, and patted his head, putting him in the bag last. Ready, she put the bag over her shoulder, and wondered if she ought to tell Otto goodbye. She wouldn't need a hideout anymore now. But she could still try to come and see him sometimes.

Otto glanced towards Mouse at Larry's chirp. "Where are you going?" he asked her.

Mouse looked at him, a little confused. Surely he knew? The bad men were gone. She was going home.

Robin followed his gaze to the girl. Centuries of existence made her well adept at reading human behavior. She saw the hope that lurked in the girl's eyes. "Oh sweetie," Robin sighed. Damn, this was not going to be easy. And she felt worse for Otto, because even if Robin told her, it wouldn't ring true until it came from someone she trusted.

The faerie looked at the scientist, leaning against one of the crates. "She thinks she's going home," she explained softly.

Mouse caught the words, and the confusion on her face deepened. Why wouldn't she be going home?

"Oh." He hadn't thought of this. This honestly had not occurred to him. He felt a pang of guilt. Mouse's mother had left- he'd sent her away. How to tell Mouse this... should he tell her the truth, or lie a little?

"Mouse... I'm sorry, Mouse, but your mother won't be there."

Larry edged towards her, chirping softly and nuzzling at her hand.

Mouse petted Larry absently, still looking puzzled. Why wouldn't her mother be there? Unless...unless she had gone with Devon and the others. Yes, that made sense. But would she really just leave her alone? Or had Otto told her mother that he would take care of her?

The weight of what he had said hit her, and she let the bag fall as she sat down. She was stupid, Mouse knew that. For years the only words sent her way were what a worthless stupid retard she was. But rarely had these words come from her mother. Mouse lived for the pats on the head and rare shows of affection that her mommy showed her. She had always thought that it was just Devon and the powders and drugs that made her mommy ignore her. But maybe...maybe they had been right. Maybe her mommy didn't love her anymore--hadn't loved her since Devon had showed her that Mouse was stupid and clumsy and not worthy of being a real girl with a real home.

Tears prickled at her eyes, and Mouse ducked her head, letting her hair fall into her face. The tears fell silently, and for once she made no effort to push them away.

Robin felt a dull ache in her heart for the child. She had it in her power to make this easier for her--to make the memory of her mother fade. But she was hesitant to do that unless it was absolutely necessary.

Larry curled around her shoulders, still chirping. The actuator looked back at Otto. sad

Yes, she was very sad. Slowly, Otto went to her and knelt, hugging her. "I'm sorry, Mouse."

Mouse had flinched at the cold metal, but once she realized the actuator wasn't angry, she didn't try to move away. Then Otto was there, and she let him hug her, though she made no moves to reciprocate.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen now, and that was a scary thing. If she couldn't go home...if her mommy didn't want her anymore, then who would? Who could possibly want a stupid little mute brat of a child?

He had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn't safely keep a child here. How could he? Letting her stay for a few hours was one thing, but long term? The warehouse was no place for a little girl to live... And he wasn't exactly safe to be around. What if the police found him, or one of the local superheroes? Spiderman wasn't much of a problem anymore, though Otto would like to avoid him if he could, but what about Daredevil? This was Daredevil territory, after all.

But he wanted to keep her. He wanted to keep her with him, and keep her safe. But he couldn't... Damn it all to hell.

Otto drew back, pulling off his goggles and looking at her. It was just bright enough in here to make him squint, not quite bad enough to actually hurt.

"I want you to stay with me for a while," he said. He pulled out the two books Robin had found and held them out to Mouse. "Is that alright?"

Mouse looked up at him through tangled bits of hair, tears staining her face. She hesitantly reached out for the books. They were her books, the only two books she'd ever had of her own. She couldn't read them, though she liked to look at the pictures and make up the stories herself. Sometimes she remembered bits from when her gran would read to her. Nowadays, she mostly made them up.

He had fixed them somehow, made them prettier. But then, Otto was very clever. It didn't surprise her that he could find a way to fix her books. And he wanted her too. Why, she didn't know, but it was something. It was a start, and that was all she needed.

Running a hand over one of the covers, she sat the books aside, and sat up on her knees to give Otto a proper hug. It wasn't as tight as the first, but she put her arms as far around him as she could, feeling the metal harness under his clothes. She gave him a small hug of thanks, and pulled back to wipe away some of her tears.

Robin watched the scene, feeling every bit the outsider she usually was. She wanted to help them, somehow. She wasn't sure how yet, but she was going to find a way to help these two mortals. They belonged together. Sometimes family wasn't about who you were born into, but who you found. She knew that--it had happened with her and Oberon, hadn't it?

He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. He had to squint a little against the light, but at least he could look at her directly.

"We'll figure something out," he promised her. "I don't know what yet, but for now, I want you here. It's going to be alright."

Larry nuzzled her cheek in agreement. Mo, meanwhile, had turned back to watch Robin, looking as suspicious as it could.

Robin rolled her eyes at the actuator, and popped out of view for a few seconds. She rounded the warehouse in a flash, setting up a ward that would mask the scent of two humans living within it. It also marked the territory as taken. No free ground here, move along. For the weaker-minded supernaturals that lived in the area, it would keep them from investigating too closely.

She came back into, reappearing on the other side of the room, near Otto's desk. The faerie looked over the scientific doo-dads with interest, picking up a coil of wire and toying with it. "Well then," she said brightly. "Any way I can be of service to the two of you?"

Mouse looked sharply at the woman. She hadn't been there a moment ago. Then she frowned at her being at Otto's desk. No one was supposed to touch the things on Otto's desk. That was bad.

"Please don't touch any of that," Otto said to the- God forbid he actually admit it- faerie. He sat Mouse down in his chair and limped over to Robin. "Miss Goodfellow, I'm taking an abused child under my protection, in a warehouse, in the middle of a city full of cops, superheroes, and various assorted criminals and costumed vigilantes who would quite like to take a crack at my hide, few of whom would care that there is a child who could get caught in the crossfire. If you have any suggestions, please, I would love to hear them."

Robin paused, tossed the ball of wire in the air, making it disappear and reappear with a slight of hand that any magician would kill for. "Hmm..." she mused, pacing around a little. "That is a problem. I haven't much experience with costumed vigilantes or any of that sort...but I suppose your best option is to stay out of sight as best you can. I can help with that."

At his look of annoyance, she rolled her eyes, and sat the wire back on the table. She caught sight of the girl hiding a yawn behind her hand, and smiled. "We'll take a few days to think on it. I'll bring you what you need as far as the necessities go. I'm sure if we put our heads together we can come up with something." She winked at Mouse, and walked over to pat Otto's arm.

"In the meantime..." A bright swirl of Glamour was sent over to the area that appeared to be Mouse's. A small bed appeared in the space. Low to the ground, as the child was used to sleeping on the floor, but its wooden frame helped it look as though it belonged among the crates. A dusky pink blanket and two soft pillows sat at the head.

"Every little girl needs a comfy place to sleep," she said.

The scientist glanced down at the faerie who stood by him, her hand still on his arm. The actuators looked too.

matter from nothing cannot be done not without tremendous quantities of energy how does she do it

"That's not going to disappear at midnight, is it?" he asked dryly, one eyebrow raised as he dropped the goggles back over his eyes to shield them from the light. "Isn't that how these things work?"

Robin put a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow at the man. Scientists. Most disbelieving of any mortals. "Do I strike you as the type to give something to a little girl then take it away again?" she asked.

Granted, there were some of her kind who would, and laugh at the tears. But Robin liked children. She liked the innocence in their eyes, and this little girl had lost too much already. The Puck was finding that she wanted to put a bit of that spark back. And there was nothing like magic to do it.

"I don't know, Miss Goodfellow," he replied coolly. "I've only just met you, and you're reputed to be a notorious mischief maker. I know next to nothing about you and your kind. I am a scientist. When I do not know something, I either ask questions or conduct research into the problem. Given my lack of reliable research material and your presence, I concluded it would be best to ask you directly."

He pummeled his memory for a moment, trying to come up with anything he knew about faeries. It was scant, to say the least- he'd rarely listened in on discussions between Rosie's friends, one of whom was something of a scholar in folklore.

"Thank you, however. Is there some sort of ritual or something you require in exchange? Some token of thanks?"

Robin blinked at him, and tried very, very hard not to get offended. He was only a mortal, after all. "No. I'm doing this because I want to. I'm not some lowly brownie scraping up messes for cream and bread." Though, she did like cream. Most of her kind did.

Mouse hopped off the chair, and padded over to the bed. It was just the right height for her. She tentatively touched the soft bedspread. For her? Never mind how it had appeared...the lady was magic, like from the faerie tales. Maybe she was a fairy godmother, come to help her and Otto. He needed a fairy godmother too, after all.

"And I might be a mischief maker, but I do have standards. I do not perform such mischief upon children, especially not good ones." Though she had been known to make a few bullies cry in her time. It was only fair.

"As I said before, Miss Goodfellow, I know next to nothing of your kind. Very few universities these days have courses on faerie etiquette or a field guide to the various sorts. At least, none I attended or visited. But then, as a physicist I had remarkably little to do with history, literature, and folklore."

Mouse continued to stroke the soft bedcover. It was perfect. So perfect. She ran over to her bag, and pulled out Tonto. He was still a bit damp, but she didn't care. With exquisite care, she placed him in front of the top pillow. There. He looked as raggedy as she did, but he was right at home on the bed. He liked it, she could tell.

She looked over at Otto with a hopeful smile. She could keep it, right? It didn't take up much room, and it was in the part of the warehouse she normally occupied. It wouldn't be in his way at all.

He glanced at the hopeful-looking Mouse and nodded. Yes, she could keep it. Mo, meanwhile, was still inspecting the faerie. He gave her arm a nudge with his claw, as if testing to make sure she was solid.

"Behave," Otto told the actuator.

Robin lightly tapped the actuator on its head. "Oh, call me Robin. Miss Goodfellow sounds so...formal." And she did not do formal, unless it was for the Court. "Besides, a mortal course in folklore would do you little good. Legends get most things wrong."

She smiled as Mouse grinned broadly and climbed onto the bed. Robin sent out a gentle Glamour, slow sparks swirling over the child in a gentle brief glow. It finished drying her clothes, so that she would be more comfortable to sleep. Mouse looked down at her clothes, and gave Robin a shy smile of thanks.

"I never asked--what are these things of yours anyway?" Robin asked, lightly stroking Mo's head, as she had seen Mouse do to one of the others. "I'm not much good with machines, but these seem special."

Mo clicked softly, then submitted to the petting, murmuring to Otto that she had a knack for it.

"They are actuators," Otto explained, resting a hand on Flo's 'head' as she came up under it. The feminine actuator kept her gaze fixed on Robin, not quite so easily swayed by a bit of petting as her twin. "Intelligent, self-aware machines I designed to allow me to control nuclear fusion experiments. The one you have there is Mo, its twin is Flo, and the others are Larry and Harry." It was almost embarrassing, really, to have to say those names aloud. One did not look at one of these actuators and immediately think of it as a 'Larry'.

Robin cocked her head a little, mulling over what he was saying. "Actuators," she said slowly, tasting the word. She peered at the one under her hand. "Self-aware? Machines that think?"

Whatever was the world coming too? All this technology, sprung up in the last century. It made her head spin. "Come quite a long way from aqueducts and plows, haven't we?" she mulled, shaking her head. They even had names. Strange.

"Indeed we have." Otto's voice held more than a little pride as he petted Flo's 'head'. What wasn't to be proud of? These were his creation, after all. He'd dreamed them, designed them, built them, even taken time away from his nuclear research in order to help program them. They had exceeded every one of their original parameters and now... now they were almost alive. "They're smarter than most humans."

Mouse giggled softly as Larry snaked over to her. She had kicked off her boots, snuggling under the blanket on the bed. And the pillows were so soft. Tucking Tonto under one arm, she curled up on her side, so that she could still watch Robin and Otto. She chirped softly at Larry, and petted him.

Mo nudged Robin's hand. stopped petting why go back to it felt nice

"And they are worse than cats," Otto added. "Once you start petting them, you really have to distract them if you wish to stop."

Robin laughed. "Amazing. Absolutely amazing." Most of her kind were put off by technology--and for the most part, so was she. But these machines, acting and reacting and thinking as though they were alive...that was simply incredible.

She smiled at Mouse, getting comfy in her new bed. "Well, perhaps I ought to let the two of you get settled for the night." Time for mortals to sleep, but for her to play. She could get into all sorts of trouble in this city. And she intended to.

Mo withdrew with a chirp and returned to curl over Otto's shoulder. Its host nodded.

"Thank you for everything," he said. He hesitated for a moment, then smiled slightly and added, "Robin."

Pretty name. To be perfectly honest, a pretty girl too. Rosie's loss still hurt like a knife in the gut, but Robin was quite lovely.

She smiled, and inclined her head to him. "You are most welcome, Otto Octavius," she said. Walking over to Mouse's bed, she perched on the side for a moment.

"Sleep well, little one," she said. Mouse sat up, and after a moment, reached up to hug the woman. She wasn't how Mouse imagined a fairy godmother would look like, but she was nice, all the same. Robin returned the hug, sending out a light sleep spell. It wouldn't take hold immediately, but in the next few moments. The child needed a good deep healing sleep, after all that she had been through.

When Mouse pulled back, Robin smoothed back some of her hair fondly. Then she patted Tonto on the head, and stood.

"Robin?" Otto said.

She turned to face him. "Yes, Otto?" she asked.

He smiled a little at the name. It had been a while since anyone had just called him Otto.

"Thank you. We'll see you again?"

Robin nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Count on it," she answered. She faded into Shadow, an in-between realm sometimes used for traveling. She could still watch the real world, but it made it easier to access buildings and such. For now, she gave Otto and his Mouse one long last look, before smiling and heading off. She had plans to make.

Mouse snuggled back into her new bed, sleep pulling at her. She watched Otto, and smiled. At least she had someone in this world she could count on. That was something.

Robin faded into thin air, earning only a slight arch of the eyebrows this time. Otto's capacity to be shocked had been pretty much drained over the course of the evening. After a slight nod to the spot where she had stood, he went to Mouse's new bedside and tucked the covers more firmly around her, rather like he recalled his own mother doing.

"Sleep well, Mouse," he murmured, then went back to his desk.