Editing Bleeding Out (Warhammer High) (section)

===An Encouraging Sign===


Jake noted the black hovercar outside the lot near his home with a jump of his pulse.  Snatching up his bag, he parked in his usual spot and nearly leaped out, jogging back to his apartment.  Pushing the door open, he was greeted by the sight of his mother and Venus giggling their hearts out over a holomag, while father was hovering nearby and trying to look stern.  His heart sank.  “Uh, hi, everybody,” Jake said.

“Hee hee hee hee, hi, Jake,” Venus said, suppressing a laugh with great difficulty.  His mother coughed once, slapping a hand over her mouth to fight off her own giggles.  “How was it?”

“I thought I did perfectly,” Jake said, walking over to the group.  “Now I’m not sure.”

“Aw, I’m sure you did fine,” Sandra said.

“Thanks.  What’s so funny?” he asked self-consciously.

George sighed.  “I don’t think it’s funny.”

“You were laughing,” Venus accused.

“Yeah, but at least I had the good sense to be ashamed of it afterwards,” he grumbled.  Jake stared.

“What?”

“Here,” Venus said, handing him the holomag with a giggle.  “You look good.”

“Well, that’s a given, but…” Jake trailed off as the holomag picture came into focus.  It was him, in his school clothes, walking around the Palace gardens with Venus, not two days before.  “What?!”

“Must have been a long-range camera in one of the skycars near the Palace,” Venus said.  “It happens,” she said with another giggle.  “Look at the headline.”

Jake glanced it over with apprehension.  “‘…Mystery Consort?’  What the flailing fuck?!”

“Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!” his mother laughed, grabbing the edge of the counter for support.  “Oh my god the look on your face!”

“Mom, this isn’t funny!” Jake said angrily, dropping the holomag down on the polished plastic surface.  “I don’t want to be in a tabloid!”

“Oh, it’ll pass, once Vicky gets her latest fling, I’m sure,” Venus said.  “But for now, enjoy the envy of the rest of the planet while it lasts,” she said airily, tossing her hair back over her shoulder with a prim little flick.

“Sure,” Jake grumbled.  He paged through the article with one finger, skimming the contents.  “…so they don’t know where I live.  Good.”  He kept reading until he reached the end of the small article.  “How macabre.  Morticia’s still hospitalized, and they’re already voyeurizing her cousins.”

“Well, more specifically, you,” Venus said, batting her eyes innocently.

“Ugh.”  Jake pushed the mag away.  “Well…anyway.  As long the school year ends soon, I can live with it.  As long as they don’t follow us to Kouthry.”  He whipped his head around to stare at Venus.  “They won’t.  Right?”

“Of course they will.  It’s their jobs,” Venus said.

“They’re not going to harass us at the apartment, are they?” Jake asked, crestfallen.

Venus gave a sly little grin.  “Sure, for the first few days.  To their own embuggerment.  A few beehives and a Fire Drake or two will put that sort of behavior to rest in a hurry.”

“Well, that at least sounds fun,” Jake said.  George picked up the holomag and started reading it.  “I guess I can look forward to the show.”

“Heh.”  Venus stood from the seat at the counter and hiked her jacket across her shoulders.  “How did the presentation go, for real?”

“Well enough.  They liked the topic.  ‘Support Structures for the Mentally Disabled in Private Schools,’” Jake said.  “The speech was rough.  I was the only one who didn’t have a custom holographic diorama or something.  But they liked the envelopes.”

“Yeah, that was a nice touch,” Venus said.  “Mine was ‘Preservation Versus Removal of Statutes of Detention from Terran Civic Law.’”

“Very brave of you,” Sandra said.  “Nobody seems to want to talk about that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been one to shy from controversy.  Just ask my Mystery Consort,” she said sweetly.

“Oh, for fucks’ sake,” Jake growled.  “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope!” Venus said cheerfully.


Cora let her feet hang from the edge of the Spire, feeling the sun shine on her face.  Eyes closed under her shades, he listened to the omnipresent hum of passing vehicles, and wondered about when she would be obligated to step in.

Remilia hadn’t been in school today.  She had said she would have been, and she wasn’t.  What did it mean?  Had Freya’s typically blunt confrontation failed?  Had she hurt herself?  Or did she just not feel safe at school?

The hot spring winds swept across her skin, a sign of the hotter summer to come.  She tugged her jacket off, leaving her arms bare.  Her skin was as white as the clouds overhead, in contrast to the dappled grey, white, black, and navy blue décor of the Spire.  In the white vest and school skirt of Imperator, she was almost invisible against the white trim of the building, except for the long black hair she splayed around her head as she lay back down.

Her vox was off.  Her implants were on low-power mode.  She was incommunicado, and she was on top of the tallest building around, with the exception of the hive wall against which the Spire was backed up.  She had the sky to herself.  More or less.

With a long-suffering sigh, she grabbed a few specks of gravel off of the top of the building, letting them run through her fingers back onto the building top.  She watched them fall through the nearly-opaque lenses of her glasses, seeing every tumble and turn with her gifted eyes.  Her father’s eyes.

Her jaw tightened a bit as her frustration returned.  She did her best thinking up here.  It was warm, it was beautiful, it was quieter, and best of all, thanks to the impermeable holoscreen of the building and low flight ceiling of the neighborhood, it was the best place to steal a quick rendezvous with her friends and sisters if needed, or a boyfriend if she was feeling more salacious.  Her lips twitched into a smile as she let herself remember the last time she had done that, and the thrill as she had surrendered to his gentle touch.  At the moment, though, she had the roof to herself, and her thoughts.  Unlike the vast patches of blue overhead, however, her thoughts were unclear.  She grabbed a few more specks of rock again, watched them fall back down.  Remilia’s quiet pain was distracting her.  She knew it.  She wanted her to get better.  They all did.  So what could she do?

“What would your father have said?” she asked the air.  “What would Rogal have done?”

The air didn’t answer.  She lay in silence, letting the light from the sun sink into her skin, never darkening it.  It couldn’t overcome her biology.

She sat up as inspiration struck.  Could she help Remilia that way?  Get her to overcome her own self-destructive tendencies?
A streak of grey and red appeared over the blurred lines of cars in the distance.  Cora squinted to make it out, grabbing nervously at her jacket…but then she relaxed.  She knew who it was.  The streak passed through the holoscreen with a suddenness that always startled her; the blur faded into total clarity in an instant.  Angela, complete with her custom rocket pack, resolved at the head of the exhaust trail, hovering to a halt above the Raven’s daughter.

“Nice entrance,” Cora said casually, coughing through the updraft of the engines.  Rocket pack travel was the pastime of the obscenely rich, even here in Startseite, but for Angela, it was more like a way of life.  Given her heritage, who was surprised?

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Angela said, disengaging the jets.  Cora, as one would expect of a Raven Guard’s daughter, had an appreciation for rocket packs.  She looked over the one Angela was wearing with undisguised envy, watching its flaps retract, the coils of smoke from the engines disappear on the wind.  Angela unclipped the harness and hefted the pack down on the roof, fluttering her wings to work out the cramps.  “How are you feeling?”

“A bit dusty, now, but largely ok.”  Cora cocked an eyebrow behind her mirrored shades.  “Yourself?”

“Great.  I had a morning speech, so it was cake,” Angela said brightly.  “I suspect I aced it.”

“Yeah?  Good for you,” Cora said, leaning back on the rooftop.  “Mine’s the very last one.  In the whole class.”

“Ouch.  That’s Friday?” Angela asked.

“Yep,” Cora sighed.  “My topic’s a boring one too.  I thought it would be fun, but it’s so dry!”

“What?”

“‘Effects of Pre-conditioned De-orbiting of Non-metallic Orbital Wreckage,’” Cora sighed.  “Also, less pretentiously, known as ‘Blowing up Shit in Space.’”

Angela laughed.  Cora smiled quite without meaning to.  Her cousin’s laugh was infectious.  “So, Angela, what brings you over?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were OK, and to see if you had any plans to drop back in on Morticia,” Angela said, sitting down beside her cousin.

“I’m fine.  Why wouldn’t I be?” Cora asked.

Angela shrugged, her feathers twitching in the wind.  “I dunno.  The thing with Morticia’s been hard on all of us, and I know you and Kelly were closer than she was to me.”

“I guess.”  Cora peaked a brow again.  “What about you?  You’re looking awfully saccharine.”

Angela flushed furiously, and looked away, into the wind.  Cora wondered what she could have said to provoke such a reaction.  Perhaps a touchy nerve?  “What?” she giggled.

“Nothing,” Angela said into the wind.

“Can’t hear you,” Cora lied.

Angela glanced back at her, tugging the red leather of her jacket’s collar a bit higher.  “Nothing.”

Cora’s eyes picked a line of tiny red spots on her cousin’s neck out against the glare, and smiled knowingly.  Angela flushed again.  “…It’s not that visible, is it?”

“Not unless you’re looking,” Cora said.  This time it was true.  “Lucky girl.”

“Cora…”

“What?  I’m happy for you.  But seriously, back to the topic at hand.  When are we dropping in next time?” Cora asked.

“We, uh, we aren’t.  Not as a group.  I meant individually.”

“Oh.  Well, after school on Friday I’m studying with Freya for finals, but after that I might go by.”

“Great!” Angela proclaimed.  She stood back up, effortlessly balancing her weight with her natural counterbalances.  “Sorry if I, um.  Made you uncomfortable.”

Cora waved it off.  “I brought it up.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Angela fidgeted.  “Sorry, you want privacy,” she said, picking her pack up.

“No,” Cora sighed.  “I want answers.  How do I stop Furia and Remilia from hurting themselves?”

Angela grimaced, setting the pack back down.  She stood in silence, then walked over to where Cora was still lying, sitting down next to her.  “I don’t know.  Furia…she’s already stopped.  Simon threatened to end it, right there, when he found out.  Said it was a slap in the face.  Her father nearly blew a gasket when he found out, too.”

“A slap in the face?” Cora asked.

“Simon’s little hospital journey.  Remember?  It was some drug peddler from-”

“Right, right.”  Cora thought that over.  She glanced up at her cousin from her back.  The sun was glinting off of the zip on Angela’s jacket, and the glare almost hid the look of intense concentration on her face.  “Hmph.  And Remilia?  She sucks at hiding it.  She didn’t even come to school today.”

“I think she’s stopped too, but…I don’t know why she wasn’t at school,” Angela said.

“You know who else wasn’t?  We had a substitute for Warp Studies.”

Angela looked down at her cousin.  “Yeah?  No Ahriman?”

“Nope.  Some random sub.”

“Huh.  He got in deep shit for that little stunt with Konrad,” Angela pointed out.  “Maybe he had somewhere else to be.”

“Maybe.  I bet Grandpa was livid,” Cora snorted.

“He was.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt him that angry,” Angela whispered.  “Not from that close.”

Cora looked up at her, blinked in surprise.  Angela’s face was haunted, her eyes focused on something far below.  “Were you there?” Cora asked.

“No, I was in the same wing of the Palace but nowhere near him,” Angela said.  “I went back to him to get some advice on something after the rest of you went home.”

“Wow.  What did it look like?” Cora asked earnestly.  Psychic phenomena fascinated her.  Some part of her envied Miranda’s and Angela’s powers, even though she knew the risks were still huge, even now.

“Scary.  Everything went all twisty,” Angela said.  “The lines that hold everything together got shaky.  They weren’t going to break, though, that was really obvious.  Still kinda scary.”  Cora nodded sympathetically, her cousin’s attempt to describe the Warp percolating through her head.

“Well, don’t let it spook you,” she advised.  She balled up her jacket and stuck it under her head like a pillow.

“I can’t even imagine what it would have looked like up close.  Miranda might have seen it in more detail,” Angela continued.  “She’s way more powerful than me, now.”

“Really?”

“I’m a beta, she’s an alpha-plus,” Angela explained.

“Holy shit.”  Cora propped herself up on her elbows to get a look at her cousin.  Angela squirmed a bit under the scrutiny.  “What does it feel like?”

“What?  Looking into the Warp?” Angela asked.  Cora nodded, speechless.  “Oddly comforting, sometimes.  When I’m near another psyker, it kinda feels good.  But if I’m not, or if there’s a huge outburst of emotion nearby, it’s really chaotic.”

“That’s so cool.”

“It can be, yeah,” Angela allowed.

“What do people look like?”

“People look sort of indistinct when I’m just looking at them.  Like, I can see them perfectly clearly, but…hmm.”  Angela struggled for a metaphor.  “Before my power manifested, I saw people normally.  Then my powers awakened, and people look the same…but if they have a little psychic power in them, they glow a bit.  I can hear them clearer, even if my normal ears are working fine.  And if they have anti-psychic power, they’re a little darker.  I can hear them fine, but they look a little dark.  Really emotional people glow in colors.  And a really powerful psyker like Dad or Miranda…they glow so bright that it’s impossible to ignore them.  But it’s not blinding either.  It actually feels more like…like…” Angela pursed her lips and rubbed her hands together.

“Like what?” Cora asked.  Angela glanced down and grinned.  Cora was up on both elbows, spellbound.

“Like…like a tiny hole in a piece of metal.  It lets some light through so you can see, but as long as you don’t stare into it as hard as you can, you’re not going to be blinded.  So like that, only it’s in every direction.”

“What does it feel like?  That must be distracting,” Cora put in.

“Not at all.  It’s more like if you’re trying to read something and someone turns a light on behind you.  It’s clearer.  It’s helpful.”

“What about Malcador or Grandpa?”

“They glow so bright it’s amazing.  And Uncle Magnus too.  It’s breathtaking.  Even Miranda, she’s so bright, but it doesn’t draw the eye, either.  It’s just sort of there.  Like how you might notice if someone has a new haircut, but then you don’t even notice after a few minutes.  And that’s all passive.  I don’t have to look to see it.  If I really stretch, actively look into the Warp, everything looks even weirder.  I really don’t think I can explain it.”

“What about that Eldar Ambassador?  What does he look like?” Cora asked.

“He’s super bright.  Like a bonfire.  Light pouring out everwhere.  But it’s more directed.  A human psyker is sending light out everywhere.  Eldar look more…focused.  They only send light where they want to.  It’s really alien.”

“They’re aliens,” Cora said sagely.

“Yeah.  But being near a human psyker with that kind of power feels really good.  Like stepping into a hot bath on a frigid day.  It’s incredibly comforting.  It’s…there’s a soul here, and it’s really complex, and it’s so bright.  It’s tempered by people’s emotions, too.  And when I’m near Grandpa, the whole world feels straighter.  Even the ripples in the Warp from the passage of time calm down.”

“That sounds like it can be a lot of fun,” Cora said wistfully.

Angela’s face darkened.  “Not when you’re near someone with bad waves going on,” she said.

“What?”

“Someone really angry.  Or scared.  Or nervous, or apprehensive, or bitter.  Or if you’re near someone who’s dying.  That’s terrifying.  It’s…there’s a little ball of light inside them, and it’s going out, and you want to grab it and put it back in, but it’s going, and you can’t stop it,” Angela said darkly.  “And if you look into the Warp at JUST right time, you can see the soul there.  The mind’s gone, the body’s meat, there’s just this tiny little ball of emotion and pain, and then it’s gone, swept away by wind.  If they’re lucky.  If they’re not, it lingers, lost, confused, terrified, hurt, so deeply hurt.  And if they’re really unlucky…CHOMP,” she said, slamming her hands together.  “Eaten intact.  And aware of it too.”

“…Holy hell, Angela, that’s awful,” Cora said, utterly aghast.  “Eaten by what?”

“Take a guess,” Angela said, a little horror creeping into her voice.  She looked down at her cousin, and somehow, a smile crept onto her lips.  “See, though, that feels good.  You saw I was getting scared, and you wanted me to feel better.  Subconsciously.  And you changed colors a little, and your soul moved a bit closer.  That feels really good.  The benefits outweigh the costs, believe me.”

Cora was a bit taken aback.  “All right…wait.  When did you see someone dying?”

“At the hospital, before,” Angela said.  “One floor up.  And when I was there to see Furia and Simon that one time.  That was in the room right next to Simon’s.  I don’t know how Uncle Magnus managed to stay focused.  That one wasn’t so bad since he…the guy who died, I mean…he knew it was his time.  Sedated.  He just kinda went out.  That’s not so bad.”

“Huh.”  Cora seemed to be thinking over the mountain of information Angela had given her, then suddenly blinked and recoiled a bit as she realized her deific cousin was staring down at her with a knowing grin.  “Er, keep it to yourself,” she mumbled.  “I mean, it’s none of my business.”

“I don’t mind,” Angela laughed.  “It’s really peaceful.  Blissfully relaxing.  Nearly fell asleep once.”

“What?” Cora giggled despite the mood.  “You nearly fell asleep mid-boink?”

“Yeah.  You think having an ARM fall asleep feels nasty,” Angela grumbled, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at her folded wings.  Cora pitched her head back and laughed.  Her voice carried over the edge of the colossal building, bouncing off the hive wall in a musical echo.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Angela said after her cousin’s hysterics faded.  That, naturally, launched her into another bout of giggles.

“See, now I don’t feel quite so envious,” Cora managed.

“Mmm.”  Angela looked down at her in mock exasperation as her laughter finally faded.  “Feel better?”

“Much,” Cora sighed happily.

“Mission Accomplished,” Angela declared.  She stood up again, snugging the rocket pack over her wings, and smiled down at her black-haired cousin.  “You know you can talk to me whenever, right?”

“I know,” Cora smiled gratefully up at her.  “It means a lot to me, but I’m not sure I’m ready yet.  You know?  It still kind of stings.”

“College,” Angela said, tugging her gloves on.  “It’ll salve the hurt.”

“Is that a prophecy?” Cora joked.

“Yes,” Angela said, shocking her cousin.  She took off without another word, plummeting several dozen stories down the side of the Spire, before leveling off and streaking into the distance.  Cora watched her until she suddenly lost resolution behind the holofield.  She smiled to herself, leaning back on the jacket bundle, and twirling a tiny sliver of gravel between her fingers.

“Thanks,” she whispered to the morning wind.