It’s the End of the World…Again?

     Thomas Nordenheim calmly turned another page, her blue gaze serene as she scanned the fine text. In the living room before her, a fight which would have frightened anyone less used to the Rough Riders was in progress. Nathan Talbot was currently strangling Jack Ferrers with the cord to his Xbox controller, and Slate McCormick had one of the pack’s old PlayStations in his hand, preparing to smash it down on Nathan’s unsuspecting head. One of Marius’ adepts was huddled on the floor behind Thomas’s chair, her eyes wide with fear. Bianca clung to the Pander’s legs and whimpered as the yelling reached a new zenith.

     A warm breeze ruffled the fronds of the palm trees, shifting their shade over the two sunning demons below. Ax and Betre were both basking in the tropical sun, both slathered with suntan oil, both pleasantly sleepy. A small orange long-haired cat was on his back on a separate lounge chair, eyes closed, purring contentedly. Splashing in the ocean surf, with a lot of uncharacteristic laughter, was Honoria Wingate. In a white bikini, she was something spectacular to behold, and seemed to be enjoying herself. Another one of Marius’ students was stretched out on the white sand. Brad yawned happily, then closed his eyes and let the sound of the breeze lull him back to sleep.

     "YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! I’LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!!!!"

     The shriek of unadulterated rage rang through Varich’s head, making the sidhe lord groan and drop his face into his hands. Thumping feet raced past his study door, accompanied by the sounds of someone yelling in either fear or rage. He couldn’t tell at this point. Seraphie Malcom was lying on the floor before his fireplace, and she turned hate-filled emerald eyes on him.

     "Can’t you fucking get them to shut the hell up?" She hissed at him, with more venom than Varich had known the cheerful satyr kinain could muster. The fae were all suffering from the overwhelming effects of the Dreaming’s sudden…explosion was the only way he could think of it. Varich was remembering all too clearly the mistakes he’d committed before, and the more he thought, the worse he felt. Being stuck in one of his less comfortable winter strongholds with about fifty other changelings was more punishment than he felt he merited at this point.

     In a sunny grove in Greece, there was one very content cat. Kearna Tierney, stark naked and neatly oiled, lay on soft grass in an olive grove, completely at ease and very, very relaxed. She flipped her red hair over her head and adjusted her "pillow." The pillow, her panther Bagheera, growled in annoyance, then began purring as one cat kneaded another’s flanks. One thing Kearna loved doing was working on her tan, and with the excuse to make sure she didn’t get tan lines, she was taking advantage of it in every possible way. Her face clouded a bit as she rolled onto her stomach. The first tinglings of her quarterly "feline" cycle was beginning, and one thing Kearna hated was going into heat. However, cats are cats, and at this exact moment, the pretty feline was too sun-sated to do much more than groan softly, and begin to purr as the sun warmed her body.

     In isolated pockets of the world, people waited. On Marius’ island, all of the fae children of Concordia played with the master magi of the Traditions, while the vampires whiled away the hours in a remote Wyoming ranch. Changelings lusted and hated in one of house Varich’s deserted strongholds, and the city’s demons relaxed on the beach of a small island near South America. The city’s other magi and a handful of special mortals enjoyed games of tennis in a tiny settlement in northern Australia. Where they were, they were protected from the sudden explosion of chaotic energy that was the Dreaming. They were safe from the incursion of nightmare creatures from the depths of human mentality. But they were not safe from…themselves.

     It’s the end of the world (again), ladies and gentlemen. And everyone’s got their plans completely made.