[shadow=purple,left,300]
I better have a bigger part in here, okay? XPNever mind what I said. >_>;;[/shadow]
[glow=red,2,300]You've got a part, but you're not gonna liiiiiiike it. ^_^
And Stal... I hate you for being so
correct about it. XD[/glow]
Chapter Two
“What a party,” Ikkin said, yawning and stretching. “I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
“Indeed.” Rider lay against the door that separated Memory Lane from Mod Squad, watching the shining quotes dangling from the ceiling on fine fishing line, criss-crossing the ceiling like Christmas lights and hanging like baubles. Quotes in the NTWF were made of liquid memories, mostly ones of laughter or tenderness. Any mod with a bit of paper and pencil could harvest the memory by writing the words of the quote down and soaking them in the slight, liquid residue left by the person or people who said the quote. Therefore, while the handwriting might belong to Leoness or Ikkin or Rider, the quote was purely Bag or Thundy or Gav or Sammy. Overnight, the residue hardened and formed colored crystals. White for happiness, yellow for fear, deep red for anger, light blue for sadness and worry… but the years had been kind to the NTWF, and most of the crystals were a dazzling white. As the crystals aged, they became tinged with deep blue, an iridescent nostalgia.
Rider wished she could take all of the residue from her memories with her daughter, all of the sweat and tears over seventeen years and preserve it in the same way. She would make a cavern in a rainbow of colors, and it would be a treasure to her.
She could feel time escaping her. Hu would leave, whether for the dojo or for… no, it was too unpleasant to think about. Not today. Today was supposed to be a happy day.
All of the memories above twinkled like stars in the night sky. Rider was… exhausted. She shifted so that she was lying flat on the floor, away from the door and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Smiling and watching the crystals above, Ikkin retreated to Mod Squad. “Good night, Rider,” she whispered. “Sweet dreams.”
* * *
Fire, fire everywhere. Phoenix fire. Phoenixes in rain and wind, with no hope of rebirth. A sun that would never rise again. A world shrouded in eternal night.
The rose garden. The bushes, made of bones instead of branches and topped with rose heads. Pure white life stretching upward, above stark white death. The ground, covered in soot. A tree, covered in soot. An owl, perched in the tree. “Who…”
“Hu?”
The owl, white as any rose or bone, staring blankly through eyes of silver. “Who…”
One by one, a murder of crows flew in to perch on the blackened trees. Great, demonic ravens joined. The result was like extinguishing the moon and stars. Sharp-razor beaks opened and closed, throat let out harsh shrieks, never drowning out the constant, quiet “Who?”
Silver eyes regarded Rider, knowing they were more than a match for her. She would be a feast the like of which had not been seen since the Daemon Revolutions. But she was not the one they wanted.
“Who… who…”
The black feathers swam in an ocean of withheld tears. “Hu!”
* * *
“Rider! Rider! Wake up!”
“No, mum… five more minutes…”
“Rider, wake up. We have a major crisis on our hands.”
The sleepy mod just rolled over. “I don’t wanna go to school…”
“Rider, this is serious.”
“It can wait…”
Leoness sighed, knowing only one thing could wake her daughter up this early in the morning. “Rider, the White Weewoo has burned down.”
“WHAT?”
* * *
“Stalos, report your findings.”
Stal saluted Tracy and began reading off of a paper. “Nothing else broken, nothing taken. Well, except for…”
“Except for Kat and Scar.” Spot interrupted. “And obviously Ikkin.”
A heavy air descended over Mod Squad like a fog. Rider had, after making sure that the Weewoo was okay and that it was all a cruel ploy, learned that at around 5:30 AM, Wandy had walked into Mod Squad for a pot of coffee, when he stepped in something that burned the sole right off his shoe. He yelped and turned the light on.
A broken glass vial was on the floor, oozing glowing-white liquid. The carpet was half-overturned. There were signs of a struggle. A broken coffee mug, Ikkin’s mug.
Ikkin was nowhere to be found.
Rider stared silently at the vial before her, wishing this was a dream, a nightmare.
Thank goodness Tracy could remain professional. “Kat and Scar… where were they?”
“Splatterboard,” Stal said. “Entrance to the Underdeep.”
Crystal swore. “Why were they sleeping there?”
“I don’t think they were sleeping.”
A pause, then Rider. “Should I alert Aeri?”
“It’s not like that, Rider,” Spot said, “I’m not sure what it was. Maybe they couldn’t sleep; maybe they saw something at the door. The Underdeep does strange things to people’s minds.”
“There was no sign of a struggle at the entrance,” Wandy said. Their scents are so heavy there, and there’s no trail leading away.”
“Odd… Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Kidnapped?” Tracy asked. Somber nods all around.
“We have to go and find them,” Rider said. “Everyone. Now.”
“As much as I hate listening to the panic-mod, she’s right,” Stal said. “Ches, when are you gonna get out of that corner?”
“When you guys stop talking kamikaze.”
Rider sighed and rubbed her forehead, wondering why she had put up with Cheshire for so long. Oh yes, that’s right. Because he cross-dressed to save her daughter.
“Do you have a safer plan?”
“Ikkin, Kat and Scar are tough cookies,” Ches said. He was in his cat-boy form, and his hair was subconsciously standing on end. “Let them sort it out themselves.”
“We’re concerned because they’re tough,” Spot said, anxiously licking a paw. “I mean, what could have the power to negate chronomancy? It’s unstoppable anywhere in this dimension.”
“Aye,” Rider said quietly. “In this dimension.”
Quietly, Stal opened the door to Mod Squad. “If they’re outside the limits of Scar’s power,” he said, “then they’re outside the limits of ours. But we might as well do what we can. We’ll start by questioning the forumers. Maybe there were witnesses. Cheshire, are you coming?”
Ches’s tail didn’t so much as twitch. The cat-boy continued to stare at the wall just above Stal’s head.
“… Suit yourself. Nimras, you take Neopets General. Rider, Times Lobby. Meowth, I doubt there’s anyone in Staff Call or Collabs this early, but I want you to check, then make inquiries at Forum Events…”
And they followed him out the door, and Cheshire watched them leave. Someone had left the thermostat up, and the sounds of water rushing in the Splatterboard kitchen were so soothing…. Unable to help himself, the cat-boy drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The mysterious liquid on the floor continued to hiss in a sinister manner. Small footsteps, and a silver-white arm reached out of the shadows…
Ches didn’t have time to wake or scream.
Yay for new sequel ^_^
Furgo 
Michael. 
The western way of figuring birthdays is that you don't turn an age until you've finished it off. So you don't turn 18 years old until you've actually lived through 18 years. When it comes to babies that haven't hit the one year mark, they have age expressed by months. 
