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“Ok, children, what are the rules for tonight?”
Miriam rolled her eyes, exchanging exasperated glances with Fundy. Still, she turned back to Quackity, adopting the sarcastic drawl she’d perfected recently.
“Don’t get hurt, don’t talk to strangers, don’t start shit.”
“Good- wait did Tommy tell you to say that?” Quackity eyes narrowed, arms crossed as he examined the two of them.
“What great thing have I done now? Heya, gremlins.”
Tommy strode into Quackity’s office, immediately making a beeline for Miriam, and ruffling her hair. Then he turned to Fundy, who narrowed his eyes and hissed, ears flat. Tommy hissed back, wings ruffling aggressively.
“Taught my little sister to swear.”
Quackity was giving Tommy an unimpressed look, but the raven seemed entirely immune, even preening a little with Quackity’s displeasure.
“Oh, yeah, I did do that, didn’t I? Tell him what I taught you, demon child.”
Miriam grinned, swinging her legs so her heels hit Quackity’s desk in the way she knew wound him up.
“Fuck, shit, bitch, c-“
“Ok, stop!” Quackity scowled, crossing the room to glare at Tommy up close. “Tommy.”
“Big Q.”
Tommy sniggered, and so did Miriam and Fundy, as they all realised Quackity was a solid four or five inches shorter than the raven. Tommy had gotten his brother’s height, and was almost as tall as Wilbur now.
Then again, Miriam had hopes she’d be taller than her big brother some day too. Maybe. If not, she’d just start wearing platforms like Quackity did.
“Right.” Quackity spoke through gritted teeth, then sighed. “Tommy, please leave.”
“Hey, no way. I’m escorting these gremlins.”
“Why did I agree to this…” Quackity rubbed the bridge of his nose, then held up his hands, chirping in a kind of defeat. “Alright. Fine. But you’re not to get them hurt, or start trouble, ok?”
“Start shit, y’mean?”
“Tommy…”
Quackity groaned quietly, and Miriam piped up, inner shrike trilling unhappily at seeing her brother looking so tired.
“Leave him alone, Tommy! He works really fucking hard!”
Fundy cackled, almost falling off Quackity’s desk as Miriam smiled smugly. Quackity just stared at her in a kind of exhausted disbelief, as Tommy smirked, towering over all of them.
“…I can’t believe I raised you. Wilbur’s getting custody for Christmas, I swear. Anyway-“ Quackity raised his eyebrows, daring anyone else to interrupt him. “Don’t you two need to get into your costumes?”
“Yep!” Fundy grinned, hopping off the desk and scampering out the office in an orange blur.
Miriam giggled, jumping to the floor in a way that befitted a civilised fourteen year old a little more. Then she paused, and tried for her best persuasive voice.
“Quackity…”
“I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?”
“Can Drista come with us?
Quackity froze, then groaned under his breath.
“I knew that was coming. You know how I feel about her, Miri.”
“Please? She doesn’t have anyone else, and it’s Halloween, and she can protect me!”
“I’m worried she’ll do something you need to be protected from.” Quackity sighed, then nodded, reluctantly as ever. “But yes, fine. I already let you two commit terrorism together, what’s one evening?”
Miriam squeaked with joy, launching in her brother in a fierce hug. Also- she was nearly as tall as him. There was only, like, maybe three inches in it. Which was a victory, in her books.
“She’s going to be here in half an hour!”
“WHAT?”
“Bye, Tio!”
Waving, Miriam dashed out, giggling as she glided down the hallways after Fundy.
——————
“Is this weird?”
Miriam turned, in all seriousness, to Fundy, the only other person she could ask.
Tommy had his own room now, apparently adults didn’t have to sleep in the kids’ room, especially when they spent most of their time in an apartment across the city. But Fundy and Miriam still shared, in the same brightly coloured room they’d both lived in for the last few years.
Fundy, who looked up, and shrugged.
“Maybe. I mean- kinda. You’re a cat, right?”
“Yep! A black cat, like a witch!”
“It’s cute. Feels like a power move, you know?” Fundy nodded thoughtfully, fiddling with some kind of black Alice-band he’d chosen. “Being your own predator.”
“Hey, shrikes could totally kill cats. And foxes.” Miriam grinned, showing off her painted claws to Fundy, who laughed nervously.
“Let’s not find out. You look good.”
“You too!”
Fundy looked- well, Miriam wasn’t quite sure what Fundy was supposed to be yet. It was hard to make out, under Wilbur’s old coat that Fundy had sewn stripes on and wore everywhere.
She, however, looked great. Black cat ears, her own ear feathers buried in her hair, which was pulled up in a high ponytail- thank you, Anarchy, that was a style she’d wanted to steal- and whiskers glued onto her cheeks, she was actually pretty proud of her outfit.
Complete with another of Wilbur’s coats- this one jet black and menacing- to hide her wings, and a movable tail Fundy had made for her, she felt like an actual cat. Her claws had needed no alteration, aside from Quackity painting them black. Oh, and her scarf was knotted around her waist. Of course. Couldn’t do to go out without a trace of royal blue.
Drista was coming as Void-knew-what, but knowing her partner, Miriam was sure it would be amazing.
“How about me?”
Fundy stood up, and- oh, yeah, now Miriam got what he’d been doing. Still, she couldn’t help but giggle.
“Hey…” Fundy pouted, and moved his hips a little, smoothing down the ruffles of the apron he was wearing over the petticoat-ed skirt. “Q said it would be fun.”
“Yeah, zorro, you look… yeah.” Miriam tried not to snigger because… somehow Fundy was actually pulling off the maid dress. “Not bad.”
Fundy lit up, bouncing a little on the spot with excitement. Miriam watched, bemused, but glad her adoptive brother was having fun. He did look kind of cute, albeit somewhat ridiculous for a teenager, but she could hardly talk.
“Are you and Drista going to run away?”
“You bet, Funds.”
“So I get Tommy?”
Miriam shrugged, and nodded. Frankly, Tommy was nothing to write home about. She’d written to Wilbur about his menace of a brother, but apparently she wasn’t allowed to gut him, no matter how stupid his smile was. Drista liked him though, a weird amount.
“Whatever.” She waved dismissively, the epitome of teenage sass. She was practising, to try on Quackity. “We’re going to be causing trouble though, so stay out of our way.”
“Yessir, ma’am.” Fundy saluted, then winked, grinning. “Wilbur calls me a soldier.”
Miriam hummed, mostly disinterested. Fundy may be a solider, but she was a prophet. Idly, she checked in with her shrike, doing a bit of a rain check on if anything was going to go wrong.
Apparently not, but there was something about Drista that she shut down quick. She didn’t need to spoil her friend’s costume for herself.
When Miriam tuned back in to reality, Fundy was busying himself on the other side of the room, and she giggled at the giant bow on the back of his dress.
“Alright, zorro, I’m off. Tell Tommy where I’ve gone, ok?”
“Sure thing. What’s he dressed as?”
“Um…” Miriam closed her eyes, asking her shrike very nicely. “A demon. It’s kinda cool. Tubbo’s going to set him on fire.”
“Awesome. See you, sis.”
“See you!”
Fundy waved vaguely as Miriam skipped off, hurrying past Quackity office, just in case. Then she was dashing through the main casino floor, cloak flapping around her ankles, and- wow, she felt like a spy or something cooler. Wilbur was so onto something with these coats, these things were awesome.
Miriam waved cheerfully to Foolish, who looked like he was interrogating a group of costumed clients as to whether they were partygoers or actual heroes. Good luck to him, she could already see in her mind’s eye that it wasn’t going to end well.
And, while she was here, she could see Drista at the door, in just a couple of minutes. Look at her good timing, she was great. The perks of prophecy, eh?
Miriam lingered by the door, adjusting her cat tail, and checking Fundy’s electronics weren’t going to electrocute her ass. Her shrike was saying no, but the wary, human part of her was saying the fox hybrid was less than reliable, and this supposedly telepathically engineered tail didn’t seem feasible, let alone safe.
“Cass! Heya!”
Miriam’s head shot up, already grinning as Drista launched into a hug without any other greeting.
“My favourite murder shrike, happy Halloween!”
“Hi to you too, Eri.” Miriam patted Drista’s arm as they separated, then narrowed her eyes, taking in her partner’s costume. “Nice. Did you make that yourself?”
Drista was dressed as what Miriam was fairly sure was a golden retriever, with floppy, pale brown puppy ears, and light green dungarees over a skin tone t-shirt with paw prints drawn onto her hands. Her hair was loose, and slightly ruffled in a way that still looked styled, her makeup highlighting her emerald eyes and innocently eager look.
“Yep! Well- I put it together. It’s nothing too special, but, well…” Drista smirked, taking a step back and twirling on the spot. “I can change.”
Miriam watched, eyebrows raising as Drista came to a stop, now clothed in skintight, forest green leather and the same puppy ears, a collar around her neck and thigh-high boots along with bold eyeliner.
“Whoa. That’s so cool.”
“Jeez, Miri, who let you be a teenager? I miss when you’d just tell me I’m amazing.” Drista grinned, back to bouncing with excitement. “But can we go now? Do we have to wait for your lot, or…?”
“Nah.” Glancing over her shoulder, Miriam reassured herself, giving Drista a devious glance. “We should probably go now, actually.”
“Ooh, is my black cat of a partner being rebellious?”
“Hey, I’m allowed.” Miriam took a step down the stairs of the casino, looking back for Drista to follow. “Coming?”
“Hell yeah. We’re getting so much candy.”
“Ew, Americans.” Miriam pulled a face, falling into step alongside Drista. “Hey, slow down!”
Drista, it turned out, was tall. Miriam blamed the boots, but the fact of the matter was that she was having to skip to keep up with her partner, which was making her feel rather demeaned.
“Catch up, Miri!”
Laughing, Drista broke into a run- which just wasn’t fair at all, she was sixteen and tall. Miriam couldn’t even use her wings, under the coat she was rather fond of, actually, and would be stealing permanently.
Still, she was fast for a lighter build, and Drista took mercy after a block or so, slowing to a bouncing walk just as they left District 12.
“So, oracle girl… where we going?”
Miriam grinned, and consulted her shrike, closing her eyes and trusting Drista to tell her if she was about to walk into a streetlamp.
“District Three for some hero action, Seven for the best candy, and Tommy’s taking Fundy all the way to One.”
Her eyes flew open, and she looked up at Drista, waiting for her friend’s verdict.
“Any decent candy to be had in Three?”
“Definitely.” Miriam felt her shrike trill in excitement, mimicked by her own ear feathers shifting. “Travel by rooftop?”
“Read my mind.”
Laughing, Miriam raced off, bolting for a fire escape staircase as Drista gave chase, the two of them dashing to the top of the rickety metal stairs in what felt like three seconds flat, only to practically collapse onto each other on the rooftop, cackling with breath they didn’t have spare.
“Ok, ok, you’ve made your point. You’re fast.” Drista held up her hand, and snapped her fingers, conjuring a basket into existence. “Truce on running?”
Miriam accepted the basket graciously, watching it morph into a fake yarn ball in a shower of emerald sparks as it passed from Drista’s paw-printed hand to her claws.
“Hm... we’ll see. I’ll race you to Three?”
“Oh, you’re on, Cassie.”
Drista bounced to stand by her side, and Miriam counted down with her fingers as they both vibrated with eager energy.
“Go!”
Whooping, Miriam set off, feeling her tail and coat whip around her ankles as Drista immediately veered, leaping off the rooftop into the street below.
But she didn’t fall. Translucent, sage green platforms appeared beneath Drista’s feet, her puppy ears bouncing as she jumped from one glowing gemstone to another, disappearing in an endless shower of green sparks behind her, far above the halloween decorations in the street below.
Miriam watched her run, impressed, then turned back to her own route, determined not to be outdone. Her hands found her scarf, retightening the knot so she wouldn’t lose it to the night breeze.
Well, Drista wasn’t the only one taught parkour by her family. It was more of a hobby for Tommy, but he’d taught the fledgling shrike with all the authority of a world expert, and, as Quackity said, confidence was most of the game.
Miriam rolled smoothly onto the next rooftop, claws shining in the moonlight as she balanced herself, and raced off, feeling as light on her feet as a real cat, whiskers pressed back by her own slipstream.
They made quite a pair, racing across the city.
Drista, with luminescent platforms reminiscent of giant chunks of peridot, a fluffy beige tail bouncing against tight leather as she bounded high above the costumed children and parents below her.
Miriam, with a sleek black cat tail, silhouetted with a charcoal coat and silvery whiskers against the moonlight, movements fluid as she took every obstacle in stride.
District 3 was coming up fast, and Miriam ket glancing at Drista, who seemed to still be keeping pace with her. Maybe even pulling ahead. Well, she wasn’t having that.
Gritting her teeth, Miriam pushed herself harder, forcing herself to speed up. Her shrike chimed in, helpfully chirping warnings of any obstacles that would particularly slow her down in her rooftop race.
She leapt onto the first rooftop of District 3- clearly lit, by themed decorations each district had clearly spent countless committee hours organising- half a second before Drista, but it was enough.
Her partner came skidding to a stop, accidentally plowing into Miriam before she had a chance to slow down, out of breath and grinning with joy.
“Wow.”
“I win!” Miriam preened, tail swishing in triumph as she beamed. “I so beat you.”
“Yep. Annoying, to be beaten by a fourteen year old, but I’ll accept it.” Drista sighed, dragging herself to her feet in dramatised exhaustion. “Where to now?”
It was pretty fun, directing someone two years her senior. Miriam basked in it for a moment, then made her way to the edge of the rooftop, and pointed down, to a parade her shrike had mentioned would be happening.
“We’re crashing that.”
“Ah, I see.” Drista joined her, nodding wisely. “Be the villains in their story?’
“You bet.” Miriam gazed down, at the heroes waving to children and handing out sweets, eyes alight with a fire that always scared her flock. “Blade’s not there.’
“Shame. He’s cool.”
Miriam gave Drista a scathing look, and she held up her hands, apologetic look exaggerated by her puppy eye makeup.
“Hey, my brother likes him. And you can’t deny he’s good.”
Miriam just hissed, turning back to the heroes, who, in fact, she didn’t recognise any of. They were all in their usual costumes, most of them with a small crowd of children dressed in terrible imitations.
Then- she paused. Drista noticed it too, and leaned closer, frowning.
“Watcha looking at, Cass?”
“There.” Miriam pointed, eyes narrowed as she tracked the group of children across the square. “Look…”
“Oh. That’s- they’re meant to be Siren, right?”
Miriam nodded. And there was a little girl in Quackity’s tailcoat, her own wings held proud. And two more, dressed in Niki’s black and gold, and Eret’s grey and rainbow layering.
They walked across the square, and Miriam saw one of the heroes pause, and lean over to nudge their partner, clearly pointing at the children, all of whom had a stripe of royal blue messily dyed into their hair.
It made her feel… something. A lump in her throat, something in her eye that felt not quite like tears. Pride, and sadness. She was just like them, really. A little girl, playing dress up of legends.
“Want to go help them?” Drista’s hand found hers, her emerald eyes soft as she nodded down. “Give the heroes a bit of a scare?”
They weren’t meant to be here as villains. Miriam’s scarf wasn’t a symbol of rebellion, not tonight, just a sign of who she stood by.
But her claws tightened around Drista’s hand, and she nodded, cold fire in her heart.
Drista waved her hand, conjuring an elaborate spiral staircase that disappeared as they descended, attracting the gaze of every hero and civilian and child milling in the square.
Miriam lead the way, glancing back to smilie in gratitude in her partner, who just nodded encouragingly, royal blue having subtly streaked it through her own dirty blond hair. Her own sign of loyalty, and impending action, given her winky-face mask had materialised. Miriam knew loyalty didn’t come easily, to people like Drista.
“Hey-!” A hero called out, jumping off their stage and marching over to them, halo flashing in indignation. “Who are you two?”
Miriam smiled coldly, claws sharp and teeth sharper as Drista stood beside her, arms crossed and puppy ears standing straight up.
There was a strangely unnatural air to the scene, a malleableness to reality that had settled on all of them. Miriam could see it, in her mind’s eye, or her shrike’s, circling up to soak in the atmosphere.
A black cat and a golden puppy, standing side by side, staring at an angel who was summoning some kind of light energy around their clenched fists.
Cobwebs and pumpkins adorned every building towering above them in the dimly lit square, giant spiders crawling across storefront windows. Red and black lightning around them, courtesy of fairy lights strung between glowing street lamps.
What felt like a thousand eyes rested on the three of them, adults in half-hearted costumes, friends in matching outfits, children in messy ensembles of heroes and villains and monsters they would only dare to face tonight. Civilians, heroes, two villains and the hundred silent supporters Miriam could feel at their backs, flashes of royal blue in a teenager’s hair, in a young couple’s bracelets, in a little boy’s cape.
“We’re kids. Like them.” Drista tilted her chin up, emerald smoke curling across her temples as she took a threatening step towards the hero dressed as an angel. “Do you have a problem with any of us?”
“You’re villains.” They sounded offended, mostly, looking around for backup. “Get out of here.”
Miriam had slipped away, smiling down at the little girl dressed as Ace, complete with his logo messily stitched over her heart. The boy in Siren’s mask was beside her in an instant, staring up at her in wonder.
Miriam crouched down slightly, eyes alight with mischief.
“What are you two doing, dressed like that?”
“We… uh, we…” The girl swallowed, and nodded firmly, crossing her arms as her wings flared. “We’re with you. We don’t like the heroes.”
The boy nodded silently, still looking star struck. Miriam nodded seriously, and straightened, looking back at the hero.
“Did you hear them?”
“They’re inciting-“
“They are inciting nothing-“ Drista took another step forward, scowling now, looking slightly ethereal as green energy gathered around her. “That you didn’t yourselves.”
The hero looked between the two of them, and gritted their teeth, raising their glowing fists with a decidedly un-angelic snarl.
“This-“
“Isn’t allowed?” Miriam completed their sentence coolly, cocking her head. “Children aren’t allowed to dress up as legends anymore?”
The hero was losing. They could clearly tell, looking over their shoulder increasingly frantically for backup. But Drista shoved their shoulder lightly, growling.
“Leave them alone. You wanted monsters. You just want to pretend they’re only in your nightmares, so you can forget us in the morning-“
“But you can’t.” Miriam stepped in, taking the little girl’s hand and glaring at the heroes still on the stage, clearly not used to having their spotlight stolen. “We’re not here for a fight. We’re here to be kids, and to enjoy being monsters for once.”
“Exactly.” Drista smiled sweetly, and sniffed. “Now go back to your party, and don’t give kids shit for being themselves.”
“You- you can’t-“
“Go.” Miriam glared, her shrike purring protectively. “My brother isn’t the one you should be scared of.”
The hero fumbled for another few seconds, then made a noise of frustration, and stormed off.
Miriam and Drista exchanged glances, then the girl dressed as Ace piped up, entirely unconcerned with the fight that had just been brewing.
“Are you two Siren and Smile? You look so cool!”
“Oh-“ Drista laughed, sounding mildly offended. “Nope. Just his sister. I’m way cooler anyway. Call me Eris.”
“And I’m Cassandra.” Miriam grinned at them, nodding. “Siren’s my brother’s partner.”
“Whoa…” The boy in Siren’s costume was still staring, and now the Anarchy and Loki children had joined them, looking slightly terrified.
“Well, I think we’ve got to run.” Drista checked a non-existent watch professionally, clearly nervous around so many small children. “Cass?”
“Mhm. Hey, Ace.” Miriam waved to the little girl, who nodded, eyes wide with attentiveness. “You’re going to do amazing things, ok?”
“O- ok!”
Miriam grinned, and nodded to Drista.
“Ok. Ready to go.”
“Awesome.”
They left the square together, immune to the dirty and worried looks heroes were shooting them. Not so many from the parents, though.
Drista’s hand found hers again, her voice dropping to a worried stage-whisper.
“Cass, we- we did good there, right? Or- the evil thing, or whatever.”
“Yep.” Miriam smiled, nudging her friend’s shoulder. “We did good.”
It really was a night for monsters to be afoot.