[b]Canada![/b]

The Cat regards you for a long moment. Her tail lashes dangerously. Her shining eyes are steady on you, like the lights of an oncoming ghost-train. Goudan, behind you, quails and offers you no comforting hand.

“I have killed before,” she says, scraping her claws against the tiles. There is a short shower of sparks. (Is it your imagination that they fall into mirror shards and vanish?) “One has to eat, after all.” (Because it was her job? Or— oh, right. Because she’s a cat.) “And I will not say that your inclination to pacifism is not admirable. But there are things in this world that will not roll over and play dead because you ask them nicely. There are things that want to hurt you, Canada, and everyone you care about. They are [i]wicked.[/i]”

She comes to a decision. She is very good at that. “If you wish to be cured of your precious cowardice, if you wish to be shown the truth, meet me in the Sealed Tower. Bring seven flawless jewels.” Then with a flick of her tail she is gone.

“I think you should go,” Goudan says. “Like, look at it this way, right? Either you go and she convinces you to kick ass sometimes, or she shows you her big show and you decide to stick to your guns which you’re not gonna shoot. Either way... I think you’d be happier, Cannie.”

And there’s the kicker: both of them want you to be the best you you can be. This is just how they know how to express it.

***

[b]Anathet![/b]

BAM!

The door to Johann’s slams open. Like most of the doors down here, it’s hinged, not powered by Caphtor; the force with which it hits the dented metal wall is enough to make you jump. Then a man lunges out at you.

Wait, no, correction, now that you’ve dived out of the way: he was thrown out at you. Oh, gosh. People actually do that here? That’s, like, the sort of thing that happens in movies. The guy is a crumpled, whimpering mess on the stairs, one of his hands held at a very uncomfortable angle.

“Don’t bother coming back,” the bouncer(?) says. Her voice is low and raspy, and her knuckles are bloody. “Shithead.”

Then she notices you, tucked up against the wall in your oversized hat and robes, and squats down to eye level to get a better look at you. It only takes her a moment to make up her mind.

“You shouldn’t be down here, honey,” she says in a Talking To A Lost Kid voice, her hands on her thighs. (Thighs that, not to be insensitive to Mr. Shithead, could kill a man.) “Are you lost? I can show you how to get to the Complex.” Her accent is as thick as Marianne’s, and about as, uh, potent.

Did I mention her hair? Like, everybody who’s not an asshole knows you don’t touch people’s hair without their permission, but it’s like a dark halo around her head, framed perfectly in the doorway. Behind her is loud rock-and-roll and laughter and smoke. You definitely have time to scamper back up those stairs if you’re scared.

***

[b]Étoile![/b]

Tamytha is wearing what passes for athletic wear among Annunaki nobility: a wispy veil with a weighted hem, her hair pulled back into an elegant bun (by someone’s clever fingers), a tight shoulderless top showing off her (lack of) muscle, and a long loincloth similar in style to your own, revealing glimpses of priceless false-scorpion silk drinking in the light. She looks gangly, even for an Annunaki, like a scarecrow or a movie monster, all too-long too-thin arms. But when she takes that goblet and drinks through the straw (Annunaki straw technology is very advanced, naturally) she can’t help but let the corners of her mouth curl up.

(Annunaki emote more with their faces than you’d expect. The trick is that [i]they[/i] get the veils you can see through; [i]you[/i] don’t. You’re not pretty enough.)

The gratitude. The way she cups both hands around it like a dork. The wind flashing you a peek of those wickedly dark shorties. It’s enough to make a girl’s heart all twitterpated, isn’t it?

“Thank you, little star,” she says, handing the goblet back to you and taking the sidearm. It’s meant to hang a little impractically from her belt, you see. “Did you ever come here? If you did, I’ll let you lead. You’d know all the best places to hide, after all.” And she smiles at you like you’re the only girl in the whole wide world.