Editing Warhammer High (section)

==A Day With Cora==
===A Morning With Cora===
Cora lazily reached for her alarm; thumbing the switch and opening her eyes. She grinned, she had pre-empted the alarm by five minutes, it was a small victory. She rolled over and considered if fifteen more minutes would be so bad. With a slight frown she dismissed the thought, there was a test today. She stirred herself and sat up on the side of her bed, sliding her feet into her waiting slippers. The first few buttons on her pajama shirt had come undone during the night and her dark hair was only slightly disheveled, she had avoided the worst of bed head. She stood up and shuffled sleepily to her dresser, nudging the backpack on her desk as she passed. The raven charm on its zipper chimed its bell as it swung and she opened her dresser. A quick observation and she weighed her options for today. Deciding quickly she grabbed her selection and walked out of the room, leaving the door half open.

She glanced at few of the pictures as she walked down the hall, mostly of her herself, her dad, and her grandfather and a few with some of the extended family. She tossed her clothes into the bathroom as she passed, letting them land and wait on the sink counter. She walked out into the living room and then into the kitchen. She noted the time and knew her dad would be getting back from his run in ten minutes, she would be ready. Cora hit the brew button on the coffee maker and sparred a glance outside the kitchen window. The morning sunset left a light red hue in the cloudless sky, as the trees in her yard rocked slowly with the wind. She spun her black fluffy slippers on the kitchen floor and walked for the front door. Three feet from it, she heard a thump on the other side and she frowned, it was early. She opened the door and stepped out into the cool morning air. She watched the car of the newspaper boy turn the corner and she pouted, she had been hoping to catch the paper and talk to him a bit. She noticed it seemed a little chilly this morning and she looked down at her fluffy slippers and white and blue striped panties. A small bug was crawling near the paper at her feet and-

She wasn’t wearing her pajama pants.

Her face contorted in an embarrassed grimace and she blushed as she ducked back inside, slamming the door. She was such a dunce, if the newspaper boy would have been on time she considered, she might have died of embarrassment. Small schedule deviations were sometimes blessings in disguise, she thought. She cracked the door open and quickly snatched the paper from the deck floor, scanning to see if anyone had seen. Satisfied none of her neighbors were up, she shut the door and set the paper on the kitchen table. She looked to the clock and lamented that she had lost all her extra time in the incident, but she was still on schedule she knew. She pulled one of the chairs out from the dining room table as she passed, angling it toward the bay window that looked out into her large backyard. She knew how much her dad liked to think as he watched the trees and birds. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy view. She saw a small flock of ravens beginning to form on one off the trees and she smiled. She enjoyed the birds too, she had even had a pet raven when she was younger. He had died two years ago now, she considered and her mood became more sullen. He had been very clever, a trickster to the core, and he had had the most beautiful jet black feathers, with just a hint of a blue hue. She had cried for a week after the accident, her father tried to comfort as best he could. He hated it when she was unhappy and she simply became more sad that she was hurting him.

She let the memory fade leaving the view behind to enter the bathroom. She set the water just as she liked it and quickly undressed, stepping into the shower. She felt relief as the warm water washed over her body and she began to lather up some soap. She thought about this morning’s incident and found herself laughing as she washed herself. She still wasn't sure how she had let herself get caught in such a position, being such an airhead sometimes. Still, a part of her wondered what would of happened had he not come early. He was certainly handsome enough and the few times she had chatted with him, he seemed very nice. She had been wanting to make an impression on him this morning, maybe greeting him in her underwear wouldn't have  been such a bad choice? She felt her pulse quickening as she rubbed the soap harder onto her skin. She felt a chill run up her spine and she began to rub herself more delicately, her hand subconsciously wandering lower. She felt it brush against her womanhood followed by a surge of ecstasy. Oh, how it would have been wonderful, she thought, to have gotten a much more special delivery from him. She went to feel again when she heard the front door of the house shut.

“Crap,” she said, surprised. She had gotten distracted, if if her dad was home she was now at least five minutes behind schedule. She quickly considered her options and adjusted plans. She opted to not condition her hair this morning, something she might hate herself for later. It would just have to be, she thought as she quickly rinsed and stepped from the shower. She slipped a fresh pair of panties, black with white frills, on and took a moment to look herself over. Her porcelain skin still gleamed from the shower and she took in her form. She was fit, nicely toned, the product of working out with her dad. She certainly wasn't the most athletic, or very muscular at all, but she certainly didn't have to worry about “the pudge” some of her friends were so frightened of. Her diet and exercise had always been sufficient for her figure and she was glad of it. Her breasts were a healthy C-cup, but she knew her money-maker was her hips, a feature further accentuated by her thin waist. She may not be the most gifted, physically, she allowed, but she knew how to use what she had. She giggled to herself as she brushed her teeth and continued to dress.

She had decided on a mid-length black skirt and loose jacket, with a white button-up shirt underneath. She put on a little make-up; a light dabbing with a subtle rosy blush, too much would be glaringly obvious with her light skin, and just a touch of blue mascara for her eyes. Her lashes had always been sufficiently curly for her taste and she had no vendetta against her eyebrows, making the rest easy. She fixed her raven hair, keeping it short and straight, with a very gentle curve, and placed her bangs in their proper place. She lightly applied her favorite perfume, a gentle cherry blossom scent, and gathered her mess. She fell back to her bedroom, noting with a slight annoyance her pajama pants lying oblivious to sense on the floor beneath the foot of her bed. She tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper and opened her closet. She looked over her various accessories and faced the toughest decision of the morning. She reached for her red scarf, passing over the blue and yellow in favor of a more direct color. She set the scarf on her bed for the moment and went to her jewelry box.

If she were to only have one fault, it would be her love for jewelry. Her collection, though not overly large, was quite impressive she thought. She often fought with herself over putting her allowance toward more jewelry or other, less important, expenses; Jewelry often won. She decided on the silver banded watch her father had given to her on her last birthday and a pair of silver earrings with small blue gems. She felt a little giddy as she put them on and wrapped her scarf around her neck, admiring her completed self in the mirror. She slipped on her shoes and spun theatrically, slipping her lead arm followed by the other into her waiting backpack and grabbed a pile of change from her desktop, dropping it in her coat pocket. She left her room and entered the dining room, smiling as she saw her freshly-showered father relaxing at the table sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. The flock outside was larger and she considered getting them a treat, but she decided against it. Fat ravens, though adorable, weren't often the fittest of the flock she thought. She walked up to her father and leaned over, kissing his cheek. He looked up from his paper at her and smiled, something she was very happy to see him do.

“Morning, you didn't want to exercise today?” he inquired.

“No, I have a Biology test today, so I needed the rest and focus,” she replied.

“Hmm, good luck with that one,” he said seriously. Neither bothered to hide the fact they were less than brilliant on the subject. Her father had always made sure she was smart when it came to things like math or history, but certain sciences were a weak point for him and he had unintentionally passed it down to his daughter. If she couldn't break a biological principle into chemistry, then into physics, and then into math, it was difficult for her to really appreciate what was going on. “Congratulations on last night by the way, I caught the end of the game on the vox on my way back planetside. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she beamed, the volleyball tournament was mostly a local affair and not involved in determining the state championship, but it had a lot of bragging rights between local rivals riding on it. She was the best Wing Spiker on the school volleyball team. While not given the respect of Isis for her captaincy, the lauding of Roberta for her genius ability, or even the awe and mysticism of Freya’s thighs, she was proud to know she was considered the best technical player and their ace in the hole. “Will you be able to come to the district matches next week?”

“I think so,” he smiled, “maybe you’ll be able to celebrate properly after your next win, instead of having a test to worry about.”

“Hopefully!” she laughed, “I should get going, I don't want to be late.”

“I understand, good luck again. I love you.”

“Love you too, daddy!” she said as she walked out the front door. He was certainly in a better mood, she thought. She was almost certain he had gotten into another fight with Horus last night. He had seemed very troubled when he had gotten home, so much so she had let him quietly slip into his room, exchanging only a simple “Good night” before he retired for the evening. She understood though, he was very hurt by the arguing, he always wanted to understand everyone and have them understand him, but it was a tough goal to achieve. She took a last glance at her home and started her walk properly.

All things considered, the distance, pace, and traffic, she could expect to take twenty minutes to reach her school and additional five to become situated at her desk, ready for the test to begin. That is, if she stuck to just walking. As it would happen, she had prepared for a necessary delay. With a determined grin she walked confidently into a bagel shop along her route. An older lady greeted her from the counter and Cora hesitated and began to glance around expectantly. A few silent seconds passed before he appeared.

If she were to have only two faults, if would be jewelry and boys. He was a couple years older than her, working his way through one of the local colleges as a manager at a bagel shop. They had never spoken much, so she didn’t know much more than that, but she knew he was complete cutie and always the gentleman. He walked from out of the bakery in back, with a tired look on his face, but upon seeing here, lit up noticeably. He asked the old lady to take her meal break and she disappeared. Cora was about to say hello and order, like she usually would, when he raised his hand to stop her.

“Pardon me,” he said quietly, “but I can guess you want a whole grain bagel with strawberry cream-cheese and an apple juice box. Am I right?”

She smiled and nodded, unsure if she would be able to speak, rather than just squeal for joy. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the change from her desk, handing it to him without counting, the weight familiar enough for her to know it was correct. He took her change with a flourish, which made her giggle, putting the change into the register and handing her the bag with her purchase in a motion made of equal parts ballet and tango. She managed a thank you, before turning to leave. She spared a glance back and their eyes met, before she giggled again and walked out of the store. She let out a sigh and started to beat herself up for never saying more. She was a frequent customer not only for how good the bagels were, but for him. Maybe she would come up with an excuse to speak to him tomorrow. Perhaps she would “accidentally” leave something of hers there and come to him to help find it. Perhaps, she could simply forget to wear pants again and--

She braced for the shock.

Bounding from behind with a loud shout of “Surprise!” the attacker leapt upon Cora’s back. Cora nearly stumbled forward but, caught her footing and used her momentum to grasp the attackers arm and throw them from her back. Landing in a crouch, with a gentle touch, the attacker turned to Cora, revealing a gleam of anger in their eyes.

“How did you know I was coming?” Kiara said, pouting, her dark hair and skull pendants swinging with the motion of her head.

“Well...” Cora smiled, she straightened her jack and adjusted her scarf. She shielded her eyes and looked toward the sun, licked a finger and tested the air, and stomped on the concrete of the side walk three times. Considering certain atmospheric and geological conditions, the consistency of the sidewalk, and the fact you have, within the last fifteen minutes, woken up late after spending another night out in town I have most the information necessary. Additionally, the fact I counted the steps between here and your house the last time we walked together and factoring in that you never run before 0930 in the morning, I was able to predict your approximate arrival time with an error of plus or minus six seconds. As for your leaping attack, that just comes from playing hide and seek with you for the better part of two decades.”

Kiara looked at Cora with a startled expression, then one of confusion, followed by one of doubt, and lastly, one of suspicion, all within five seconds.

“You heard me,” she asked bluntly, “didn't you?”

“Yes,” Cora smiled, “but only because you let me, right?”

It was Kiara’s turn to smile. They were good friends, similar, yet different in many ways. While Cora was calm and calculating, Kiara was cool and cunning. Their styles were functional opposites, but seemed to compliment eachother . Where Cora was good at school and sports, Kiara was often a loner, preferring to keep middle of the pack approach in academics but she and Cora shared a connection that was special to both of them. They had grown up like sisters and, though their fathers would have little to do with the other, the two were nearly inseparable. Kiara stood up and joined Cora on her walk, which was now thirty seconds behind her calculated schedule.

“So, when are you going to ask him?” Kiara asked.

“Who,” Cora started, “What do you me-”

“I mean that guy your practically stalking. The bagel dude.”

“I am not,” Cora huffed, “Stalking him. I just like the bagels.”

“The sausage too, apparently.”

“Shut up!” Cora playfully pushed Kiara.

“I’m serious! Just ask him.”

“Ask him what!?”

“You know, ‘Do you want to go out with me?’ ‘Blondes or brunettes?’ ‘Do you prefer little boys?’ That kind of stuff.”

“How about ‘Hi! I’m obsessing over you and I know exactly what you do in the privacy of your bedroom every night at 0145.”

“….What does he do?”

“Kiara!” Cora groaned, “I’m being sarcastic. I’m not that obsessive! Well…He closes his curtains way before that at least…”

The two shared a laugh, then Kiara changed the subject.

“Take a look at this!” she said gleefully, holding up her hand. She was holding an obsidian pendant, inlaid with white and red gems in the form of a red eyed skull, on an obviously fine black leather collar. Cora had to stop herself from simply grabbing it, she settled instead for gawking dumbly.

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed as she leaned in to look closer at it’s workmanship and quality. It was simply stunning to her senses, so much so she didn’t see the curb, her foot landing awkwardly on the corner. Reacting a split second too late, her other foot shot forward to brace her, crossing her other leg. She fell sideways and directly into Kiara, who yelped in surprise. The two fell backwards, thankfully landing in the grass. Cora took a moment to gain her bearings. From the feeling and sight, it seemed she was on top of Kiara, face first in her breasts. It was soft and warm and smelled of--

She sat up quickly, getting off of Kiara.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Cora apologized.

“It’s alright,” Kiara laughed, she put on a devious smile, “Cherry Blossoms?”

“Cinnamon?” Cora asked, relieved.

The two laughed as the helped each other up. Cora noticed the skull pendant collar on the ground, with thankfully no visible damage.

“I’m so sorry about the pendant, I didn’t mean to-- I can pay to fix it if it’s broken! I didn’t-”

“Don’t worry,”Kiara stopped her, “It’s yours.”

Cora was dumbstruck.

“Don’t stare with your mouth open,” Kiara laughed, “People will think to put something in there.”

Cora snapped out of it, “Do you mean it? What for?”

“It’s a gift, in celebration of your amazingly elite volley-lobbing skills and our friendship!”

“I can’t word right now, but thankful am I.”

“It’s alright, I know how you can be. Just accept it already or we’ll be late to class.”

It dawned on Cora they were standing outside the school, 3 minutes from class time.

“Oh, crap!” Core cursed and bolted for the school door. She stopped before she entered, running back to Kiara. She hugged her and accepted the collar, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Thankyou-thank you-thank you,” she managed before running to her class, Kiara laughing at her panic.

Cora hurried into her classroom and got to her seat without a moment to lose, happily she put on the collar, feeling the cool leather on her neck. It was a perfect fit. Some of the other girls were lost in conversation or cramming last bits of precious information into their head. Cora noted Isis lost in thought and she nudged her elbow.

“It’s time,” Cora said.

“Hmmm?” Isis seemed a thousand miles away before waking up, “Oh.” She stood up and turned to the class. “Class, attention!” The all-girls school was big on formality, something it’s worldly teachers wanted to impart on the students. Isis, being the class leader, was responsible for such things, though everyone had their own way to do things. Cora was just happy to help. There was a general moan, but everyone stood up, as three seconds later the teacher entered.

“Good morning!” The class said in unison, as Morticia stifled a cough.

“Hello, everyone!” The teacher sad happily. “First off congratulations to the volleyball team on their defeat of the Green Tide last night! Freya, Cora you had some amazing combos! Isis and Roberta, splendid performance as always! Everyone else, as well!”

There was a small cheer from the students that cared and were actually paying attention.

“Ugh...Sir?” Freya chanced, putting on her most powerful puppy dog eyes, “In honor of our astounding victory, is there anyway we could cancel the test or at least guarantee a D- for the volleyball team?”

He was unmoved in his cheeriness.

“Unfortunately, Ms. Russ, Tests, like death are inevitable. And some of you seem to have the same amount of control over both!” He said it with a smile, though it did nothing to soften the blow. Freya exaggeratedly let her head fall to her desk with a clunk.

“So screwed…”

Cora checked her desk and retrieved two pencils and a block eraser. She sighed as he began to pass out the tests. She was banking on a decent ratio of problem questions and concept checks over rote memorization of principals. The teacher paused at her desk and she gave him a happy, hopeful look. His face became solemn and he shook his head. He gave her the test and continued on. Cora calmly wrote her name and began to read the first question.

With three words, she calculated her chance of passing to be less than 5 percent.

“Not as planned.”

===Lunch With Cora===
The lunch bell rang and she gave in to defeat. The test had drained her completely and Cora knew she would come up short As disappointing as it was, her mood was further darkened when she realized she was the last student in the room, the rest having long finished and enjoying some free time. With a sigh she turned the test to the front page and verified her name was on it. She inspected her pencils and judged them to be too worn or chewed to be of any future use. Quietly gathering her things, she tried to let her mind drift to happier thoughts, but was brought crashing back to the fact she was now in peril of failing the class overall. Why couldn’t she just study and pass this like any other class? Why was she allowing herself such a dark spot on her, otherwise, clean record? Her melancholy was rising and she felt a small headache coming on. A tear gently rolled down her cheek, which she quickly dried. Fighting back any further tears, she realized it was wasting her time to just stand and stare at her desk. She brushed some eraser shavings into her hand and carried her test to the front of the classroom.  

Mr. Bile was dozing at his desk and for a fraction of a moment she considered something underhanded. Cheating wasn’t unheard of here, but still Cora pushed the thought aside. Deciding there was no reason to make it worse than it had to be she attempted to place her test and make a quiet escape before he awoke. Her effort was in vain, no sooner had the test hit the desk then the biology teacher stirred.

“Ah,” he yawned, “Finished at last! How did it go?”  His tone was, as ever, cheery and friendly, which seemed to make it all the more demeaning as Cora thought of it. Fearing how she might respond, she simply shook her head and continued to avoid meeting his eyes. Wasn’t it bad enough they replayed this scene nearly every test, she wondered, why does he expect her to change? Dropping the pencils and eraser bits into the trash she started to walk away from his desk, as he started paging through her test.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say softly, as she placed her hand on the door handle, “I just don’t get it.”

“If you keep this up, we’ll have to take serious action,” he began, “I’m well within in rights to make recommendations. You might have to be suspended from your extra-curricular activities.” His face was no longer friendly, replaced by a serious expression with little empathy in it. Even though she had considered the possibility, the fact it was now being waved at her hit something deep within. She wanted to say how she would show them, that she would improve on her own, no matter the sacrifice and that they didn’t need to punish her. Yet, she felt more tears forming and she turned and left the classroom wordlessly, leaving the heavy atmosphere of the nearly empty room with tears on her cheeks.  Fabius Bile was left with the test and  set about to grade it. If she didn’t appreciate his warnings, he decided, she would understand the consequences.

Cora opened her locker and leaned inside, allowing her self to sob for a moment longer. Crying was no solution she knew, but it certainly seemed to be the most natural option at the moment. She dabbed her eyes with her sleeve and took a deep breath. Looking into her locker mirror she attempted to regroup herself. Her eyes focused on her pendant collar and she felt her mood turning. Finding a suitable thanks for Kiara would be a challenge, as she was notoriously hard to shop for. The problem swirled in her head as she finally pushed the test to the back of her mind. Improving her mood took a little effort, but Cora was proud that she could.  As if on cue, she felt a hand fall on her shoulder.  She opened the locker door further and caught the reflection in the mirror.

“Hey, Isis,” Cora smiled, “What’s up?”

“Nothing to much,” Isis said, as she leaned in close behind her. Their eyes caught as each of them looked into the mirror, their faces next to each other. “It seems as though one of my squaddies is having a hard time.” Isis brought her hand up, straightening one of Cora’s bangs and said, “A good captain always should keep up squad morale.”

Cora frowned, she had just gotten over this too. 

“I appreciate the offer,” she said, trying to hide her annoyance as she turned from the mirror to look at Isis’ face over her shoulder, “But, you should consider squad morale restored.”
“Until when?” Isis retorted, “Until they kick you off the team a handful of games from our championship?”

Cora felt a bit flush, but realized Isis wasn’t meaning malice. She sighed, “I suppose your right…”

“Come on, let’s discuss things over lunch.”

Cora relented and let herself be led to cafeteria. Being the peak of lunch, it was quite crowded and there was a great deal of activity. Farrah and Hana were having a discussion about gear drive balancers or something,  Victoria sat in the middle of her clique, apparently oblivious to Athena trying to get her attention, and then she spotted Freya and Remilia lunching with a few extra seats near them. Isis stepped into the food line and Cora motioned to where she was going to sit. Nodding, Isis turned and cursed something, apparently just realizing how long the line really was. Cora walked over and took a seat next to Freya, enjoying her home made lunch of a sizable magnitude. Despite some of her habitats, including her well known drinking, Freya was a bit of a health nut. Having grown up in a culture of binge drinking and near constant fast food when she was younger, but had taken a bit of a turn when her father went through a mild health crisis. She dove head first into healthier lifestyle, forcing her father to make some changes. How well he followed them was debatable, but he was too much of a softy for her to ever out rightly refuse.  Freya took a large bite from a delicious red apple and greeted Cora, with just little apple juice dribbling from the side of her mouth.

“’Sup, Cora? Bomb the test too?” she asked happily, already taking another bite.

“How did you guess?”  Cora asked as she sat down and opened her backpack.

“Eh, you seemed a bit more gloomier than your normal gloominess when you got your test.”

“I am not gloomy,” Cora tried to counter, she was more occupied with trying to find her lunch then defending herself.

Remilia chimed in, “That’s a pretty collar, where did you get it?” Freya looked up and tilted her head, before noticing Cora’s neck, apparently just seeing it. 

“Oh,” Cora giggled, “It was a gift from Kiara, she practically tackled me this morning to--” With a flash, her mind cut her off mid sentence and transferred her to mere hours ago as she was walking to school. Cora had just anticipated Kiara’s surprise attack and braced herself, one of her reactions being setting the small bag, with bagel lunch inside, carefully out of the way to avoid he foot movement as she flung Kiara with her own momentum. She had never bothered to pick it up. Now she was without a lunch. “Oh, no…” she said dejectedly.

“Not gloomy at all,” Freya quipped. Cora shot Freya a look but realized her eyes were closed. “Here,” she outstretched her hand, “Have an apple!”

Cora felt a bit guilty for having come so close to snapping at her, she was just being personable in her own way. With a short bow she thanked Freya and accepted the apple, realizing she was quite hungry, she guessed the test must of really drained her.

“How are you so happy, you probably failed too, right?”

“It’s just a test, besides, I earned enough extra credit with my ecology project that I can coast the rest of the quarter.”

“What happens then?”

“Then all the sports I care about are over and they really can’t do anything about it,” she said with a proud smile.

“Just enough to not get held back?” Remilia joked, pushing her finished tray to the side and leaning her head on her hand.  

“And not an effort more,” Freya concluded, still holding her proud expression. 

“I don’t think Freya’s master plan is a good guide for you,” Remilia turned to Cora, “But just remember the team is behind you.”

Cora smiled, “Thanks a lot.”

With her long-awaited lunch in hand, Isis joined the conversation sitting across from Cora. 

“And because of that,” Isis said straightly, “We want you to take a break from the team.”

Cora blinked, “What?” Isis’ face was serious and unmoving. She looked to Remilia, who tried diverting her eyes before giving her an empathetic nod. Freya seemed to be as surprised at Cora, albeit the sandwich in her mouth contorting her expression. “You can’t be serious. No way. Unacceptable.”

“It’s not a suggestion.”

“Yes, it is,” Remilia interrupted, with a more competent face. She ignored Isis‘ stare as she continued “The team wants to help you, but you have to be willing to show us you really care.”

“But,” Cora tried, “We’re just now starting the tournaments! I can’t just quit!”

“You don’t have to quit. You can still practice with us on the weekend, so you can keep up and you can support the team other ways. During the week has got to be your study time.”

Cora knew they were just trying to help, but she did not want to just give up, “Who would replace me?”

“We were thinking of moving Petra up--”

“And take away your backup as librero? We’ll be weak in the backcourt!”

“We could always try Furia,” Isis offered.

“She doesn’t play ‘low-contact’ sports, she’ll have a hard time too, because all of our opponents have been really focusing on my side. We need someone with experience--”

“I can make Furia an offer she can’t refuse,” Freya entered, “I could move to your spot, we put Furia in front of me, and the Golden Girl can easily pick up the slack on our side. Besides, it will give each of us a little breathing room from each other and we won’t fight over every volley…as much.”

“See,” Isis said, “We can cover for a few games, but we’ll need you down the stretch. I can’t risk losing you later, but I can compensate for now.”

“And you two,” Freya looked at Remilia and Isis, “When did the ‘team’ decide this? I don’t remember being asked.”

“We said there was a meeting, you said you had a party to get to and it could wait until tomorrow.”

“…Oh,” Freya slumped, “Sorry, Cora, I would of said something to make it easier…”

Cora was deep in thought, this was turning into some kind of day. A part of her wanted to believe it was all joke, another part angry that it had to be planned like some kind of conspiracy behind her back.

“Can I at least practice today?” she asked sadly, “I could kind of use the stress relief.”

“Fine,” Isis said, “but as your captain I want to remind you I’m looking out for the good of you and the team. Beat this problem with us, not against us.”

The school bell rang and lunch was starting to finish, Cora stood up

“Thanks for the apple Freya,” she paused, before looking at the others “And thanks for caring, I know it’s for the best, but I still think it sucks.”

“Noted, see you at practice.”

Cora walked away from the table and threw away her apple core.

Some kind of day.


===Intermission: The Bonds of Metal===
The loading dock door slowly opened out into the bay. With the stealth of a natural hunter, Freya slowly stalked from the shadows inside the school and out into the dimly lit alley. Eyes wide, already adjusting to the light, she scanned slowly as she slinked, searching for her target. There would be no one else out here, she knew, the janitors were all on lunch and any potential interlopers had already been dealt with. No, there would be no one else to watch she thought, as a wolfish grin formed on her face. Even though there was no sign for the moment,  it wouldn’t be long--

Freya sniffed the air. Her target was here, no doubt. The familiar smell of the preferred brand, no more than a few yards a way. She silently stepped against a large dumpster in front of her and edged carefully toward the other side. A small orange glow bobbed a bit through the darkness, delicately placed between two fingers of a not-so-delicate woman leaning against the dingy school wall, gazing in the opposite direction. A predatory glint shined in Freya’s eyes, the hunt was at an end and the battle was about to begin. In her head, she checked the plan one last time, reviewing each perfectly thought out step. Who said she couldn’t be brilliant, she thought proudly. The hairs on the back of her neck started to straighten upward and her hands clenched slightly, it was the adrenaline kicking in she knew, confrontation was unavoidable now. She inhaled deeply, quiet as a ghost and she crouched down to prepare.

“What is it, Russ?” Furia asked, still looking emotionless down the alley. 

Freya almost fell over as she ducked backward. With her cover blown she would have to alter her perfect plan, no matter though, it would still work. With a quick change in attitude she turned from predator to puppy. She stood and walked happily around the corner separating them.

“Heeeeeey, Furia! What’s goin’ on?!” she asked giddily. Furia didn’t even look in Freya’s direction. A moment of awkward silence passed between them. Realizing the delicacy of the situation, Freya decided to be direct.  

With a flash, Freya surged forward off her right leg, her well trained muscles propelling her with great take-off speed directly at Furia. She knew she would have one chance. Snarling, her hand shot for Furia’s face. Furia, realizing the situation, reacted. She turned her head, relatively slowly at least, to dodge the assault and to her satisfaction, Freya’s hand missed her face by two inches. Furia was about to comment when she noticed the absence. Her eyes looked down her nose, her cigarette was missing. Freya grinned, the precious stick in her hand, a shining, transluscent strand of spittle still attaching it to Furia's cracked lips. Furia realized that Freya hadn’t missed at all, she had planned that. Before she could realize anything else, Freya stood upright and flicked the cigarette into a dark, moist corner of the loading dock. The burning end bouncing pitifully before being extinguished by the puddle it landed in.

“You know,” Freya said, her face smiling, eyes shut, and index finger raised, “Smoking is very bad for young girls…”

Perhaps once in the existence of mankind there had lived a certain man, a man who straddled the fine line of genius and insanity. Perhaps this certain man had, in a fit of brilliance or demented delusion, envisioned a level of hell more horrible then any man before him had considered. Every terrible and burning detail was made plain to him in one fleeting moment, to the horror of his consciousness. In that evil place he had created, he found he had also created the master of it, a terrible daemon of sickening feature and unequalled rage and hatred. In that single moment, this man stared into the abyss and the abyss reached out to him. For a reason no one should ever wish to know, the doomed man had created so much terror in his minds eye that the place ceased being imagined and passed the dream divide into the  material. As blood tears ran from the crazed man’s eyes, the daemon king of his own creation ripped from him his sanity and consciousness with nothing but it’s hatred and malice of him. If such a rage had ever existed, it was but a bucket to the ocean of hate compared to the anger now building on Furia’s face.  Realizing the situation was now on the knife edge of a volcano, Freya revealed her trump card.

“…But metal isn’t!” she cried, withdrawing two paper stubs from her pocket and holding them in front of Furia’s face. For a moment, Furia considered ignoring words and just biting Freya’s hand off…and then the other. That was, until she realized what the stubs were. The killing haze faded from her eyes and her anger was temporarily abated.

“These are tickets to Metaldammerung…” Furia finally said.

“’Metaldammerung: The largest metal event ever conceived, every sound, every style, united in the ultimate metalhead experience!’ I GOTthem for the Nordic guys flying in, even Bjorn is going to be there! But you probably know everyone else who’ll be in attendance, I’d guess…”

“Those sold out in twenty minutes when they started selling. I broke some dude’s legs and he still wouldn’t give them up, cutting bastard…How did you…?”

“Pop’s an old friend of one of the headliners, I think you’re familiar with 13th Company?”

Furia was momentarily taken aback, she loved their sound, they were easily one of her-- The thought died and her anger returned.

“What’s the price or are you just showing off?” Furia spoke with a murderous tone.

“No price,” Freya shook her head, “Just a service.”

Furia stared icily.

“We need a temporary substitution on the volleyball team. I think you’ll do the trick,” Freya said.

“I don’t do non-contact.”

“Not even for tickets? Or for me?”

Furia almost laughed at that one.

“Oh, forgive me for not thinking of your feelings. Dean’s rule too. I can’t play sports where the school will get sued if I get too rough.”
“…woof..” Freya said, defeated, “I guess we’ll have to think of something else.”

“You do that. Leave me alone, before I break you.”

Freya looked gloomy for a moment, before she perked up and held the tickets out again. 

“You can have these anyways,” she smiled.

Furia hesitated, “W-What? Why?”

“I was going to give them to you anyway,” Freya tilted her head, “Because I remembered how angry you were when you didn’t get them. Besides, I have a couple for myself still, I just thought you would appreciate it a little more than the other girls I hang out with. I just thought the chance to get something from you in return was too good an idea to pass up, but know I got to do some thinking again. Please, I know you want them.”

Furia took the tickets as Freya beamed another smile. Furia looked at them closely, they were good for the Pit too… 

“I accept your apology, but to make this even you owe me a free one.”

“Eh?” Freya looked dumbly, “Oh, I suppose that’s fair…but only if it’s my face.”

“Got it,” Furia said, before unleashing her rage. Her fist connected like a train to a school bus against Freya’s face, sending her reeling backwards. She stumbled a bit as she stood up and tried to shake it off.

“Naht bad…Be happy…I’m…falling down now….” Freya said as she hit the ground face first, apparently unconscious. Furia looked at the tickets and then Freya, her head was probably the hardest thing within a lightyear or nine of Earth, she’d be fine after a nap. She stepped over Freya and walked back into the school, turning at the door, back at Freya.

“…Thanks…”

She left Freya, thankful she hadn't heard and maybe just a little sad she didn't...

===Another morning with Cora (optional sequel)===
As she climbed out of her bed, Cora was eager to do something today, something she hadn’t dared to do for too long: Talking with the cute boy at the bagel shop. To be in time, she had set her alarm some minutes earlier. Everything should work out just as planned. She would walk in, talk to him for a while and then ask him casually if he had any spare time soon.

Nodding to herself in the mirror, she put on a nice black dress to go with a pair of dark blue jeans, and, as it was a bit cold in the morning, her green scarf.

After a shower and her breakfast, she waved her father goodbye and left the black Ravenspire, surrounded by a flock of ravens that were searching for food.

The pallid girl entered the bakery at the planned time, and seeing only the boy, she decided to be straightforward. Yet, somehow her feet weren’t really obeying her, and she walked slowly, with shaking legs, towards her aim.

The young man greeted her, smiling widely, and said: “The same procedure as every day?”

She bit her lip and only managed to say a mumbled “Yeah.”

As he put her order together, Cora slammed her fist on the counter to get her thoughts clear, a bit too hard to be unnoticed by the young man, and he spun on his heel, surprised and confused.  

“Um… is there a problem, Miss?”

Realizing how it must have looked, she blushed hard and tried to sink deeper into her scarf, her delicate white face becoming an embarrassed red.

After an extremely uncomfortable moment of awkward silence, she said hastily: “Ohmygod I’msosorry! Ididn’tmean to…”

Seeing Cora shrinking in front of him, the young man walked around the counter and held his hands up before her. “It’s okay, no problem, Miss. How couldn’t I forgive you? Err, I mean… uh…”

Now it was his turn to blush, as Cora could see when she removed her scarf from her face. Letting the meaning of his sentence sink in, she suddenly pulled together all her courage and said: “Well… hi, I… I’m Cora.”

She could see him trying to calm down, as he answered carefully: “Hey, my name is Zacharias… but would you mind calling me Zac?”

She managed a slight smile and extended his hand towards him. “Sure. Pleased to meet you, Zac.”

He nodded and took her hand, breathing an elegant kiss on it. “The pleasure is all mine, Cora.”

Hadn’t she been already head over heels for him before that, she would be right then. To her own surprise, she suddenly stepped towards him and gave him a short kiss on the cheek.
While he looked completely stunned, Cora noticed a knock on the door. As she turned around, she saw Kiara grinning widely through the glass door, causing Cora to turn red again.
Behind her, Zac said: “Well, uh, I guess you have to go...”

She turned around and sighed. “Yeah... my schedule is vicious”, she grinned and tried to shoo Kiara away with a gesticulation, which – of course – didn’t work out.

“But maybe we could meet somewhere outside the shop, maybe go to the cinema?” Zac suggested hesitantly. 

With another elegant move, he handed her the bagel and the box of apple juice. He grinned and said: “So I guess that’s on me today. But what about today at eight o’ clock?”

“Well, I live down the street, the huge, black tower... you can’t really miss it”, Cora smiled and couldn’t stop giggling in anticipation. 

“Well, until then, milady.” He waved at her as she left the bakery.

“Goodbye!”

Outside, on their way to the school, Kiara said casually: “So you’ve got a date, huh? Hopefully it’s not only because he wants you to stop stalking him.”

“Hey! I am SO not stalking him, you meanie”, Cora pouted. “Besides, don’t talk to me about stalking with YOUR dad, honey.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kiara said, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, there’s this story about some people seeing someone with a bat mask at night in the city...”

“And what about these nightly raids your father does with his friends?”

“Nah, as I asked him about that, he only quoth “Nevermore!” and went away...”

===Yet another morning with Cora===

Cora opened her locker, whistling a cheerful melody, and took out her biology book. No matter how much she hated having that subject, she was too glad to be annoyed about it at the moment. Well, it still itched her that the team had decided that she should learn rather than playing volleyball during the week, but now, she had another activity to make up for it. Finally, she had had a date with Zac, although she had felt the presence of her observers at any time. Oh, this overambitious Kayvaan!

As she looked in the mirror in her locker, she noticed a familiar shape standing behind her, grinning maliciously. Her joyful facial expression changed into a stern look, clearly showing the cunning behind her ice-blue eyes. 

“So, the little emo girl finally had a date, huh? And you went to this run-down café named “Eldrad’s Exquisite Establishment” with him? How pathetic,” sneered the girl with the beautiful, cruel face behind her.

Cora turned around, waving her raven hair out of her face. “Well, Miss “I’m so proud of how slutty I am”, not everyone lures innocent guys (and girls) into an expensive-as-hell nightclub, hits on six other people there and finally leaves the date without paying anything.”

Victoria shot Corax’ daughter a disdainful look, turned away and strutted down the floor, mumbling something like “You’re just jealous!”.

Sighing, Cora closed the locker after looking one last time in the mirror. She ducked down, turned around and dodged the attack from behind, lifting her attacker over her against the closed locker door – a rather painful experience, but she knew that Kiara would recover soon.
At first, however, she collided face-first with the metal door, and Cora could hear a muffled “Ow!”.

The Night Hunter girl stood slowly up and wiped the blood from her nose. Still dazed, Kiara grabbed Cora’s shoulder to stand still. 

“Damn it! So that’s how you thank me for the collar?”

Cora grinned. “Well, blood diamonds they are...”

Kiara shrugged and said with a much more friendly voice that was filled with curiosity: “So... how was it?! You should have told me this morning already...”

“Sorry, school started later today for me...” Cora interjected.

“... but nevertheless, how was it? I demand to know what happened!” Kiara said in an imperative tone. 

The raven haired girl smiled widely and licked her lips. “Well, it sure was delicious; this Mr. Eldrad definitely knows how to cook a thing.”

She winked, seeing Kiara glaring angrily made her continue hastily though.

“He is such a gentleman! I’ve never felt so cared for! Oh...” Cora put her hands against her cheeks and sighed adoringly.

“Eldrad? Really? And I thought he was a scheming dog,” Kiara answered, laughing at her friend.

Cora pouted. “Well, if you don’t want to...”

“TELL IT! NAO!”

“Okay, okay. Fine. So we went to this café, ate cake and talked about this and that. It turned out that he likes the same music as I do! And he was very eager to watch a volleyball match of our team!”

“Now THAT I can imagine, with dozens of round things jumping up and down...” Kiara grinned. 

Cora rolled her eyes. “I’m still wondering why I’m telling you anything.”

“Oh, don’t be so whiney, you know how boys are. It’s not like you’ve never... oh, wait a second...” Kiara eyed her friend suspiciously. “You... you never had a boyfriend before?”

Cora shifted and seemed to be embarrassed. “Well... uh... there was this boy in the kindergarten... oh damn it, I never had the courage to do anything! And those guys who asked me out were insensitive pricks!”

Kiara’s face was a mixture of amazement and amusement. “Then you’ll find out soon enough, little princess. But speaking of insensitive pricks...”

She pointed down the hallway, where a bunch of girls walked towards them: Victoria, smiling arrogantly, followed by Petra, Alpharia, Omegan, and Athena.
Fulgrim’s daughter spoke first, looking disgustedly at the blood on Kiara’s palm: “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt your cutting session, please go on; I won’t disturb you killing yourself.”

She proceeded and left the two girls, while her fellowship shot dismissive glances at Cora and Kiara. 

Kiara moaned. “Imbeciles. However, you’ll learn that every white knight is also a macho deep within, the difference is just how good he’s able to hide that. But as I know that Miss Macha and Miss Taldeer work at the café, it seems like he’s pretty good at hiding it. Or you just can’t spot it yet.”

“How can you say such a generalising thing? I...” Cora was interrupted by a loud voice from outside the building, which she recognised in an instant: Only Furia had a voice like a megaphone and anger in every decibel.

The two girls decided to look outside, where Furia definitely was up to something that would get her in trouble – not that she wasn’t used to it.
Outside, besides an impressive white motorbike and a red monster on wheels, stood Furia and Hana, arguing about a little scratch in Hana’s bike.

“Damn you,” she shouted, “I’m totally sure that this scratch wasn’t there before you couldn’t handle your rusty piece of junk and crashed into my baby!”

“That’s a lie, you whiney irritant! You’re just too dumb to realize when you’ve hit something, and now you want to blame it on me!” Furia growled, inhaling deep from her lho-stick.

Hana stepped forward, slapping Furia’s cheek with her fist and said contently: “I realized that I hit you, if that is good enough for you, you choleric barker!”

Suddenly, the air seemed to heat up, and Cora thought that she had heard something snap, like the little rest of self-control Furia had had. Now she clenched her fists and put down her helmet, her eyes narrow and her face a mask of uncontrollable rage.

“That’s enough! You’re so going to regret this!” she yelled, hatred pouring almost visibly out of her. 

She stepped forward and hammered her right fist into Hana’s ribcage, making her gasp in pain.

“First, I’ll tear you apart, then I’ll smash your bike to scrap!” Furia yelled, leaping forward again and placing her left fist on Hana’s cheek, sending her sprawling across the muddy ground. She recovered quickly, however, dodging the next blow and kicking the steel toe of her boots against Furia’s leg, which caused her to fold over into the mud as well, cursing rudely. She wiped the dirt off of her face, but there was no time to prepare for the next attack. The biker girl jumped towards Furia, smashing her fists into the short-haired girl’s groin. 

“You! Will! Pay! For! This! Scratch!” Hana shouted.

Furia suddenly grabbed Hana’s fists, spun her around and punched her elbow into the leather-clad girl’s back.

“I! Will! Crush! You! And your damned bike, too!” Furia hissed through gritted teeth, foam dripping out of her mouth.

Then, she jumped on Hana, wrestling her to the ground and biting pieces out of Hana’s black leather jacket in frenzy. 

Cora stood at the side, her mouth opened, but she was unable to do anything. Somewhere in her mind, she found the idea of two girls wrestling on the ground, ripping off their clothes, strangely arousing. By looking around, she noticed that she probably wasn’t the only one: At least half the boys of the school thought the same way and cheered for Furia or Hana to fight on.

Furia stopped only when Hana managed to land a blow on her chest, rolling down from the biker girl, but taking a fighting stance in an instant, although she was panting heavily. As Hana leaped towards her to punch her in the face, she was abruptly stopped mid-air by a white gauntlet.

“It’s enough, sister. You do not need to embarrass the White Scars further,” Temujin Khan said, his voice calm, but with a scornful undertone.

“Oh come on, man, it just started to get funny. Furia would have beaten the crap out of your sister, Tem,” Ragio, Furia’s brother, shouted, protesting against the end of a good fight. “But you,” he addressed the crowd, “piss off, and don’t stare at my sister, you weaklings!”

Temujin sighed. “Come on, Hana, time to go. There’s still plenty of skull white colour to paint over that scratch.”

Cora looked at Kiara, who just shrugged. 

“Well,” Kiara said, “seems like the safety-car ended the rage.”

Cora nodded. “Yeah, that’ll give some penalty points.”

===Practice with Cora===
The rest of the afternoon had passed in haze after the events of the morning and the news that lunch brought. The raven-haired girl looked up into her open gym locker and sighed. She finished tying her sneakers and stood up, adjusting her practice jersey with a few gentle tugs. A quick gaze around the locker room revealed that only a few girls had yet to finish changing, practice would be starting soon. Quickly folding her clothes, she placed them inside and shut the locker door. Cora hurried out the locker room door and jogged out onto the gymnasium floor. Most of the girls had assembled on the far end of the court, while a few were still joking around while they waited. It seemed the cheerleaders were practicing today too, Cora noted, seeing Victoria and the rest in their own training gear stretching near the band section. Cora quietly fell in at the end of the line, no one had yet said anything to her, save for a smile from Freya as she approached.

“Doin’ alright?” the daughter of Russ tempted.

“I’ll be better when we start,” Cora responded, a bit more coldly then she meant. She sighed and then noticed Freya‘s shiner, “Sorry, how did you get that black eye?”

“Eh, I got hit by a Thunder Hawk, I won though-- ANYWAY, Miss Gloomy, you won’t be waiting long, at least,” she said nodding to the top of the nearby bleachers. Had she not known who was there, Cora would of looked. As it was, she simply started stretching.

“LISTEN UP, MAGGOTS,” came the blaring call of the assistant coach, “STRETCH ROUTINE, BEGIN!”

Perhaps not the most subtle of assistant coaches, Kell certainly had the volume to command respect. The old stiff-neck was as unforgiving as he was loud and never seemed to lose any enthusiasm for both faucets of his leadership style. Starkly opposite to Kell was the head coach, who was directly to his left. Since taking over the program, Ursarkar E. Creed had made every state tournament, won numerous championships, and had never failed to make a surprise entrance. As far as Cora could guess, the coach had probably rigged some kind of rappelling gear from the ventilation ducts high above. That, or he had been hiding under an unassuming backpack in the bleachers everyone had failed to see, each was equally likely given the circumstances. Creed cracked his trademark smile as he bit down on a new cigar, unlit for the moment. The two then seated themselves at the top of the bleachers, preferring to watch from the vantage point, Creed always claimed it gave him a tactical edge. For a moment, Cora wondered if the coaches were even aware of her punishment.

Turning to the fore of the gym, Cora noticed Isis had taken her position in front of the team and had begun to call out different stretches for them to copy. Together, the team counted out the familiar motions, they followed the routine to the letter almost everyday with few exceptions. After a short while, the players paired up for more involved stretching. Freya and Cora took turns stretching out the other’s calves and hamstrings. As Freya lied on her back upon the gym floor with one leg raised, Cora pressed it forward gently, noticing that the cheerleaders had started to practice their tumbling. Changing off with Freya, it was Cora’s turn to be stretched. The stretching was feeling very good to Cora, after a rather tense day she felt herself slowly unwinding and the familiarity of the routine was, itself, comforting. The weight on her shoulders seemed to slowly be lifting and she was playing with the idea of just falling asleep there.

A blaring whistle robbed her of any possibility.

“ON THE LINE, MAGGOTS!”

The team stood up and ran to the nearest court line. Another whistle marked the start and each girl immediately began to sprint forward. The cyclic running lasted for about ten minutes when the “last round” whistle blew. Each player redoubled her efforts and tried to make the last run their fastest. Though no slouch, Cora certainly wasn’t the fastest of the team. That title probably went to Angela or Isis, but Roberta was always quick to claim that she was a better distance runner and, if the rumors were true about her toned legs, Freya could run as long as she could stay awake. As the team finished their running for a short breather, the cheerleading squad took the opportunity to run through a new routine, which was rather impressive and completed with only a few minor mistakes. The timing and coordination of all the flips, throws, and jumps was very involved and something Victoria was always very proud to claim as due to her natural ability in the subject. By the look on her face now, however, Victoria seemed quite displeased and berated a few of her squad for their sloppy timing. In truth, Cora could agree with the reasoning, but not with the execution, it just wasn’t the way she would run a squad.


As the break finished, Cora noticed the volleyball nets had finished being erected by a couple of the teams managerial servitors and the girls began to split up into the sections, divided by the more senior and junior players and then further by starters and the rest. The starters would take their places on one side of the net and the others on the opposite, cycling through so the starters always faced relatively fresh opponents. In theory, a starter could be challenged for her spot, but the lineup had been solid since the start of the year, the other girls content to sub in or start when a player was indisposed for a game. Cora had to keep reminding herself not to go to her usually spot, which Freya now took. Furia hadn’t shown, as Cora had expected, honestly, and Petra filled in the open position with Roberta to her left. It certainly wasn’t a weak team without her, Cora calculated, but it wasn’t optimal. Russ was a natural athlete, but she was better up front and Petra was the stronger pairing for Remilia and wasn’t as experienced up close. For all this, it seemed that the coach was at least willing to rubber stamp the lineup, he had hardly even made eye-contact with Cora since practice had begun and she wondered if it was intentional. In the back of her head, she knew what she had to do, even though it would probably do more harm then good.

She had to prove the numbers wrong, the team was far weaker without her, more so than Isis had considered.

The whistle sounded and the scrimmage began. The starters always had the disadvantage and Cora caught the ball passed to her, it was her serve. With a quick wink from Farah and a nod from Venus, she knew she had a solid team of her own, but this was going to take a lot of effort on her part. She quickly glanced over the starters for her first target, settling on the most obvious. Petra was a fine player, but she was the interloper in this sense and was missing her knee pads for some reason. The plan formed in Cora’s head and she immediately put it to action. She tossed the volleyball high and stepped forward jumping to meet it before it had begun to come down. With a hammer blow she sent it rocketing downward over the net and outward toward the line. Petra anticipated, but hesitated, certain it would go wide. The ball slammed the ground a hairs width from the line.

Ace.

A few of the starters traded looks and Petra seemed to realize her mistake. Freya was visibly stirred, her instincts unsure how Petra had let that one go. The ball was returned to Cora and she readied herself. Another leaping hit and the ball, again, soared in Petra’s direction. To her credit, she didn’t hesitate twice, but instead dropped to her knees, a move she would regret, and hit the ball into the net. Petra rubbed her knees as she stood up and Freya fumed, she was showing very little patience for her replacement. As if on cue, Cora watched Freya take a few steps forward, attempting to shore up the deficiency in her eyes. Such was according to plan. The stare on Cora’s face was as cold as Valhallan ice when she lined up and it was directed straight at Petra, who, despite the setbacks, seemed only more determined than ever. Their eyes locked for a moment and Cora repeated the motions again. The ball shot forward, Petra dropped, and Russ moved to back her up, realizing the trap too late. Freya knew the ball would over shoot her and Remilia hadn’t yet noticed her being so far out of position. With trained precision, Freya spun on a dime and dove to keep the ball in play. She reached out, but was mere inches short and the ball bounced off of the court. Petra regained herself and shot a look at Cora, Freya was now visibly miffed. Cora considered another shot, but decided against it, it was better to let Freya stew and keep Petra on her toes. Reverting to a more docile attack stance, the next volley was less hostile, lasting several bouts until Isis finished with a fantastic spike on a perfect set from Angela.

A few points traded back and forth later, Cora had perfected her next plan. Freya was set to serve and Cora knew what was coming. A thunderous blow that could shatter bones sent the sphere hurtling toward the spot between her eyes. Reacting fluidly she deflected the shot high and motioned to Venus, who knew her part. With a set the match of any other person on the team, Venus left the ball hovering lazily near the net. Angela moved to block and Cora charged the net. Angela was, perhaps, the most gifted of any of the girls in terms of sports prowess, Cora would need a bit of luck to pull this off. As it was, she knew Angela was prone to go with her gut instincts more often than she ought and preferred up-front confrontation, Cora was not going to allow this. As Cora jumped to spike, Angela leapt to block, perfectly in the way of the ball’s path. At the last moment Cora did the unexpected, she tapped the ball with her hand upwards, just above Angela’s natural reach. The angelic visage turned to one of agony as he stretched her fingers, only managing to graze the ball on the way past. Isis was sent reeling and only barely managed keep the ball from the ground, but sending it back over the net. A strong hit from Farah followed by another set from Venus and Cora again charged. The starters were off balance, but braced for the impact. Cora spiked the ball and caught Remilia on her off foot, a rare mistake for the defensive star, but one Cora couldn’t pass up. The ball hit the ground. Another point.

Substitutions were called and Cora jogged off the court. A couple of the starters seemed relieved to see her go, a few more than just a bit angry, and one simply stared. Compared to her victory conditions, things were going well enough, she supposed. She toned down her assault but kept the pressure on every time she was called in, scoring a few more points and earning several sour looks. However, her main goal was still left to be achieved.

Isis hadn’t become the team captain by accident. Her abilities were enhanced by natural gifts and trained to a keen edge. Where Cora could count on her finesse, Angela her raw talent, or Freya her athleticism, Isis was a blend of each and, though she wasn’t entirely certain, Cora would not have been surprised if she exceeded each of them. Simply watching Isis play was a learning experience, like watching a sword master dismantle an opponents defenses or an artisan crafting a masterpiece. Her shape, her very movement was beautiful, but not in a classical sense. Certainly, Cora thought, it was the same beauty one might see in a fine blade or bolter, elegant, yet rigid. Beautiful, but deadly. She had yet to be truly bested on the court, her instincts were rarely wrong and she had enough natural ability to cover any mistakes with ease. Thinking very long and hard, Cora locked in to studying her, nearly missing her call to re-enter the game.

The clock on the wall revealed that this would probably be the last volley and Cora’s last chance to complete her mission. The last obstacle would be the greatest she knew. Despite playing solidly for the entire scrimmage, Isis showed no sign of wear, only a light perspiration from her extortions could be seen on her face. She swayed as a predatory animal might before assaulting its prey and her movements were as crisp as ever. Ideas swirling in her head, Cora tried to find an approach that could possibly work. Knowing she didn’t have enough hours in a day to wear Isis out or even enough room to order a lance strike safely, her options were rapidly deteriorating. This was turning out to be more of a mental exercise than a physical one, she chuckled to herself, it was enthralling. After a long day of uncontrolled experiences, this duel of wills was a blessing in disguise. She took her spot, still focused on Isis, as Freya stepped forward to serve. The berserker champion of the team was no more tired than she was when the game began and the serve rocketed toward Cora with all the force of the first. Her mind raced and her body reacted batting the ball into high arch. Venus adjusted her footing and squared off for a set. Venus nodded to Farah who immediately prepared to charge. To Cora’s surprise, Isis reacted. The team captain came forward to the net, abandoning her position to block the inevitable spike and finish the scrimmage on her own note. The iron-fisted spike of Farah was among the most brutally powerful of the team and the captain was allowing no chance for it’s success.

It was then Cora found her answer and, as much as she hated it, she knew it would work.

Bounding off her back foot she charged forward toward the net. As Farah jumped, she was followed shortly by Isis, and, by less than a blink, Cora. The great plan depended on two factors: One, she was faster than Farah, and Two, Isis held Cora’s devotion to the team in high regard. On the first, Cora was almost positive, the second wasn’t as clear, other factors were at play and it was too late to properly guess their effect. The last moments of the scrimmage was a do-or-die scenario, not optimal, but acceptable.

Even as the iron hand of Farah was beginning to descend, Isis knew where the ball was going to go. She knew because she had seen it play out in her mind over and over. Farah was strong, but crude in her form. Perhaps she wouldn’t go as far as to call it simple, but it was predictable. Her hands together and as flat as she could make them, Isis was in the perfect position to block. There were no surprises left, nothing that could change the outcome. All was to her will and soon it would be finished, in her favor. Cora’s little vendetta would fizzle and the captaincy secure an unquestioned. She smiled, it was just the way as it was intended to be.

While thoughts of victory filled Isis’ head, Cora focused only on the ball. The time to strike had come. With a precise impact, Cora knocked Farah aside, the iron hand still descending for the ball. With a lightning fast strike, Cora contacted the ball and gave it forward motion. It was directly beside Isis’ head when the team captain realized she had been out-maneuvered. Never, not in a thousand years, would she have guessed Cora to go to such lengths just to prove her wrong. She watched as Farah’s hand came down hard on Cora’s back and the two fell awkwardly, crashing to the ground. Managing to turn her head from the scene, she saw the impossible. The volleyball impacted the ground exactly where Isis had been standing not five seconds before and bounced away, the other starters as astounded as her. Her own landing was awkward and she stumbled, trying to catch herself, taking another incredulous look to the other side of the net.

Cora hadn’t seen the result, she even missed the look on Isis’ face. The daze of Farah’s hit was still smarting and she tried to help Farah up after regaining her feet. Perhaps the most confused of all, Farah accepted the help and then begrudgingly took her hand away when she began to realize what had happened, so hurt by the act that tears had started to form in her eyes in anger. Cora searched for an apology to say, but was cut short by the end of practice whistle. The team seemed hardly to notice, until they began to walk to the locker in ones and twos. Farah turned and left in anger as Venus chased after her, sparing a look at Cora that seemed to ask “Why?” Isis seemed in a daze and slowly walked to the other side of the gym, sparing not a word to anyone. Roberta was the first to speak to Cora.

“What are you trying to pull?! Do you think you’re special or something?!”

“I just wanted,” Cora started, “to sho-”

“Shut up! Are you a moron or something!? Isis went out of her way for you! Bile wanted you off the team and she stuck her neck out for you! She stopped him from just kicking you off the team outright! She cared enough about you to risk our entire season!”

“’I didn’t know that! She never told me-”

“Do you really think she would!? After all the crap your dad’s went through, after all the fights you two have had, do you think you really would have believed her? On top of all that, you disrespect her and the teams decision and nearly hurt a teammate to do what? To prove you’re good at volleyball? Newsflash, moron: We knew that! Had I been the captain, I would have used you until they removed you from sports entirely, but you know what? Isis should have done the same damn thing for all the crap you pulled today!”

Cora was stunned, she didn’t know how to respond. As Roberta stormed off, Cora was left speechless.

The silence was only barely broken by Coach Creed.

Who was right behind Cora.

The old coach leaned forward and whispered so only she heard, “Do you think you accomplished anything?”

“I don’t know,“ she said. Cora felt tears coming on. The dawning realization that she had made a terrible mistake all the more clear.

“I’ve commanded many armies, coached many teams, mentored many people. Sometimes, the ends justify the means, but rarely does it make the fallout any easier.”

The young girl swallowed hard, almost not realizing the coach was already gone.

“How the crap does he do that?” Freya asked, ducking under the net and approaching Cora.

“I’m sorry…” was all Cora could managed as she looked down at the floor, her tears starting streak her cheeks and falling to the ground.

“Ah, no big deal,” Freya beamed.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” Cora asked, unbelieving.

“I know you were right about this whole thing sucking. I think it sucks too and, personally, Isis having her feelings hurt doesn’t bug me that much. Farah’s a tough girl, her pride is the only thing that’s hurt, just give her a Baneblade or a Land Raider to play around with and she’ll probably forget the whole thing happened. As for Miss Perfect, she’s just upset the ball hit her in the face, that was funny.”

“You’re wrong, I was wrong…very wrong…” Cora started to cry.

“Come on,” Freya comforted her, placing her arms around Cora, “it’ll be fine.”

Cora embraced Freya and squeezed tightly. Despite her over-simplification of everything, Freya was being truly empathetic and it was very comforting to Cora. She spent another good minute crying before she could compose herself.

“That’s better!” Freya smiled, “I know what you need, how about a good 40k run to relax a bit?”

“Maybe not that far…hey!” was all Cora could manage before Freya started dragging her around the court.

The two ran together for sometime, long after everyone else had left, Cora was sure. To her surprise, it was strangely relaxing, it at least let her mind focus on other things. She felt very at ease around Freya, she was happy to have her close by. It was similar to the way she felt with Kiara or Morticia, but neither of them practiced or played sports with her. Freya had shown her true kindness and friendship in her own special way and Cora was glad to count her as a friend. Cora realized it was getting to be late and she would need to go. Freya was showing no desire to stop and she felt a little bad ducking out before 20k were finished, but she needed a break. She leaned in close to Freya.

“Thank you.”

She split off as Freya continued making laps and jogged for the locker room. She entered to see that locker room was as deserted as she expected, her bag and locker untouched, thankfully. The sound of running water came from the showers, but she expected it had just been left on from the rest. She quietly undressed, removing her practice gear down to her undergarments. It had been a good workout, but a shower was very much in order she giggled to herself. She removed her bra and slipped off her panties, placing them into her gym bag. She was about to grab her hygiene products when she heard the running water abruptly stop. Cora instinctively turned and looked toward the showers. She watched as the door slowly opened and Isis stepped out staring numbly ahead. Cora was instantly struck by her appearance. It wasn’t the first time she had seen one of her teammates naked, but it was usually short and fused with an air of humor or embarrassment. As it was, Isis had little to be embarrassed about. Her still wet body was amazingly perfect, her smooth skin, tan skin unblemished, the well toned legs and arms connected by her thin, flat stomach and shapely breasts and full hips. She seemed to lose herself for a moment before realizing Isis was looking at her and her own pale, exposed body. She felt herself turning red and she reached for her towel on the bench, quickly covering herself. Isis made no comment and began to dry herself, seemingly content to not say a word to Cora.

Her embarrassment was replaced by sadness and Cora felt the urge to say something, anything to her, even if just to try. She searched for words but, again, found herself lacking. Her eyes fell to the floor and she felt like crying again. When she looked up, Isis was in front of her, garbed in only her towel.

“You surprised me,” Isis spoke, not coldly or cynically, but sounding genuinely hurt.

Cora’s mouth trembled, “I’m sorry…I didn’t kno- I didn’t think…”

“I suppose we’re both to blame though, aren’t we? I backed you into a corner and you lashed out in defense. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing, I just didn’t expect you to do the same.” Isis reached out a placed a soft hand below Cora’s chin, slowly lifting her head to meet her eyes, “There’s a tough girl behind the tears after all.”

Cora felt ashamed and a lone tear slowly drew down her cheek. Isis gently wiped it away and moved a lock of Cora’s hair from her face to behind her ear, gently stroking her head.

“If you’re really sorry,” Isis began, “Study hard. Get help, if you have to. Stop Bile from meddling in things that aren’t his business. If you can do that, I can have you on my team again, we can be a team again.”

Cora felt excited as Isis drew her in and the two embraced. They released each other and Isis began to change as Cora walked to the shower, neither saying another word. By the time she had finished, Cora saw that Isis was long gone. She quickly changed and voxed a short message to Kiara and Morticia.

She needed to unwind from the day’s events and she needed her most trusted friends to do so.