A Room at the Arms Hotel, Saturday Morning

[not_a_parakeet]

It had been late last night when Warren and Karla had returned to the island, fully intent to get a night's rest before setting off again in the morning. They had plans to visit Captain Chiba in Hawaii for their birthday tomorrow, after all, to get spoiled on his yacht while celebrating Karla's victory during her Offering without a good amount of

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[glacial_witch]

Normally, with Warren or otherwise, Karla woke up slowly. Mornings were not beloved creatures, nor were they to be tolerated without coffee, and that went doubly-true when she was snuggled up with Warren, cocooned in warmth and love she could feel even when she was asleep.

Normally, however, was not today. Not when that snarl held real menace and when the tension thrumming through the body next to hers had nothing to do with desire.

Karla sprang out of bed before she was even fully awake, Sapphire pendant thumping against her naked chest. Her Ebon-gray was in Banard's hands, being shaped into jewelry she could wear and Rings she could give to her Court. "Warren?" she asked--before getting a good look at just who had woken up in bed with her. "The Hell? Dammit, Fandom!"

[not_a_parakeet]

"Fandom?"

He was back on the island, then?

He was back on the island, and the woman in front of him, the Karla in front of him that was almost certainly more Raven than Karla, seemed put-out by that fact. There were so many questions that twisted through Warren's head at both of those realizations, even as his wings spread, blades extending from his back with the sound of metal scraping metal.

"What the hell am I doing back on Fandom Island? And who the hell are you?"

She couldn't be Karla.

They would never be Karla.

[glacial_witch]

The Karla-who-most-certainly-was-Karla-thank-you-very-much looked a little aggravated by that question. "Wait, you know Fandom but you don't know me?" she asked, incredulous. "Great! I get the one Warren in the multiverse that somehow missed meeting me at school."

Which might explain why this Warren so closely resembled another Warren of her memories. See? Going without a Karla was bad for Warrens. This was proof!

[not_a_parakeet]

"You look like Karla," Warren all but growled. "Hell, you sound like her. You're even doing a good job at touching on her temper."

He'd be convinced, if it wasn't for the fact that this was so damn impossible in the first place.

"You can't be her. You're too her. Like Raven in my head, taking everything I want and twisting it back on me. There's no fucking way you could be her. She was gone when I got back. She left."