Tales of the Ice Harpy from Glacia

The lightening sky wasn't doing anyone any favors. It just brought the slaughter out in stark relief. The pale white bodies seemed to glow, inevitably drawing one's eyes. It was impossible to pretend that they were just sleeping. The signs of violence were too numerous to ignore.

One by one, people began appearing on the hillside next to the small, huddled party that had already arrived. Some, Karla knew. Others possibly, she didn't. It didn't matter to her. All that mattered was that they were here. They were going to help her try to stop this madness. Friend or annoyance or complete stranger, they all had her gratitude

When they had all arrived, the purple portals closing into a tired-looking Raven, she raised her hands--

--And that was when the unicorns struck.

( When Unicorns Attack! )

"If you're not sure if the person you bump into is a friend, say you're with the Lady again. If they have no response, they're probably here to murder more unicorns. Feel free to dispatch them as you see fit."

"She means kill them," Lucivar growled.

"No I don't," Karla corrected. "...Much. Look, so long as you protect the unicorns, I don't care how you do it."

[Much of this was taken from, you guessed it, Anne Bishop's Heir to the Darkness, origami'd for our own playground. Please hold for OCD and copious sobbing as I try to figure it all out OCD up if minimal.]

Beep. Beeeeeeeep

Normally, Karla could sleep right through her phone's text notification, especially if it came in the silvery light of pre-dawn on a night when Winsol celebrations had kept them awake until just a few hours before. Which wasn't to say that Karla could be generally counted upon to wake up for her phone, but it was even less likely under those specific circumstances.

This morning, however (if it could even be called morning if the sun wasn't yet up, an argument Karla would make another time), Karla was leaping up to snatch at her phone before it had finished its first ring. Worry could do that to a person.

She was hoping very much that she'd be getting a sheepish text explaining that there had been some kind of drunken tequila binge with Angelo and that he'd lost a few days on a dirty bathroom floor in Madripoor. If she got that, she wouldn't even yell! Or scold! Or even kick him for missing the holidays! Nope, she'd be understanding and amused and most of all, grateful he was safe.

The island off San Francisco. Help.

Karla sank down on the side of the huge bed she shared with Warren. It wasn't even the words that were making her feel like she'd been gutted. No. It was the picture that accompanied them. She stared at it a moment more, before briskly shaking her head and setting the phone aside. She could have a reaction later. More importantly, however, Jono needed her.

Time to call the cavalry.

[NFB. If you think Karla would have called you to go yell at X-Men for awhile, feel free to ping in!]