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Hey, everybody!
I think I've been slacking a little on my output lately, so I whipped this up. It's a sequel to spier el's "No Turning Back: Death of Batgirl", so you should really make sure you've read that story before tackling this one.
Thanks to spier el for granting me permission to enter his awesome 'verse, and even more thanks for his assurance that he's working on new installments of the "No Turning Back" series too. On with the show!
No Turning Back: Caged Canary
Chapter 1
Black Canary frowned as she crept through the alley's dark shadows, making sure to keep as quiet and undetectable as possible. Her usual costume of black leather leotard, biker jacket, boots, and fishnets helped quite a bit with that; her years of martial arts training took care of the rest.
"Where are you, Batgirl?" the blond bombshell whispered to herself, her face lined with concern.
Gotham's Dominoed Daredoll had been missing for a week, now. No one - not policemen, not criminals - had seen hide or hair of her. That normally wouldn't have been too unusual; after all, people in their line of work sometimes spent entire months recovering from injuries, or going undercover.
But Batman himself had confirmed to Black Canary last night that Batgirl was indeed missing in action - her civilian identity (which he had understandably refused to disclose) had vanished from the radar as well. He and Robin had been sweeping all of Gotham in search of their comrade-in-arms, but unfortunately, an extraterrestrial Justice League mission had taken precedent.
Thus, the task had fallen to her: a super heroine with plenty of experience in crimefighting, and was actually quite familiar in Gotham. And she intended to put every ounce of effort into it. So far, her results had yielded very little - Gotham's pool halls and tap joints had given her plenty of rumors, but nothing concrete to go on. No matter how many noses she broke.
"Don't you worry, kid. I'll find you if I have to turn this whole city upside-down."
Little did the blond bombshell know, however, that two sets of eyes were watching her from afar. Two mischievous, green-colored sets of eyes, belonging to a pair of women holding binoculars.
"Mmm. So it looks like Black Canary's one the case now," one of the women said, lowering her binoculars and licking her lips. She stood around five-foot-seven, with a supermodel's curves and a gorgeous face. Her hair, smooth and red, fell to her upper back. Her sumptuous breasts were barely contained inside a tight leotard that seemed to have been made entirely out of poison ivy leaves; her long legs, meanwhile, were encased in skintight green tights that were decorated with an ivy pattern. On her feet, she wore green boots with four-inch heels. Her shoulders and hands were bare, but the rest of her arms were clad in tight green sleeves of the exact same color and pattern as her tights. Last, but not least, she wore a long cape of green and red, clasped around her neck and dropping all the way down to her feet. "I've been hankering for a blonde, anyways."
"Ooh," shuddered the other woman, lowering her binoculars as well. She was around five-foot-five, and her face and body, though attractive, weren't quite up to par with the other woman's. Her hair was also a beautiful shade of red, and decorated with a small mixture of various flowers near the scalp. Her torso was contained inside a silky green corset, which had a black flower design running up the sides. Under that was a red silky skirt with green leaves running along the trim. Her legs were clad in green thigh-high stockings, which fed into a pair of black boots that ended slightly above her knees. From hands to mid-forearms, she had on a pair of fingerless fishnet gloves, which left her bright green fingernails exposed; the rest of her arms were clad in silky green shoulder-length gloves. "I can't wait to clip her wings, Mistress Ivy."
"Patience, my little Venus Flytrap. She will fly into our clutches soon enough," Poison Ivy chuckled to her little assistant-slash-lover, patting the woman formerly known as Batgirl on the head.
END OF CHAPTER ONE.
Black Canary frowned as she crept through the alley's dark shadows, making sure to keep as quiet and undetectable as possible. Her usual costume of black leather leotard, biker jacket, boots, and fishnets helped quite a bit with that; her years of martial arts training took care of the rest.
"Where are you, Batgirl?" the blond bombshell whispered to herself, her face lined with concern.
Gotham's Dominoed Daredoll had been missing for a week, now. No one - not policemen, not criminals - had seen hide or hair of her. That normally wouldn't have been too unusual; after all, people in their line of work sometimes spent entire months recovering from injuries, or going undercover.
But Batman himself had confirmed to Black Canary last night that Batgirl was indeed missing in action - her civilian identity (which he had understandably refused to disclose) had vanished from the radar as well. He and Robin had been sweeping all of Gotham in search of their comrade-in-arms, but unfortunately, an extraterrestrial Justice League mission had taken precedent.
Thus, the task had fallen to her: a super heroine with plenty of experience in crimefighting, and was actually quite familiar in Gotham. And she intended to put every ounce of effort into it. So far, her results had yielded very little - Gotham's pool halls and tap joints had given her plenty of rumors, but nothing concrete to go on. No matter how many noses she broke.
"Don't you worry, kid. I'll find you if I have to turn this whole city upside-down."
Little did the blond bombshell know, however, that two sets of eyes were watching her from afar. Two mischievous, green-colored sets of eyes, belonging to a pair of women holding binoculars.
"Mmm. So it looks like Black Canary's one the case now," one of the women said, lowering her binoculars and licking her lips. She stood around five-foot-seven, with a supermodel's curves and a gorgeous face. Her hair, smooth and red, fell to her upper back. Her sumptuous breasts were barely contained inside a tight leotard that seemed to have been made entirely out of poison ivy leaves; her long legs, meanwhile, were encased in skintight green tights that were decorated with an ivy pattern. On her feet, she wore green boots with four-inch heels. Her shoulders and hands were bare, but the rest of her arms were clad in tight green sleeves of the exact same color and pattern as her tights. Last, but not least, she wore a long cape of green and red, clasped around her neck and dropping all the way down to her feet. "I've been hankering for a blonde, anyways."
"Ooh," shuddered the other woman, lowering her binoculars as well. She was around five-foot-five, and her face and body, though attractive, weren't quite up to par with the other woman's. Her hair was also a beautiful shade of red, and decorated with a small mixture of various flowers near the scalp. Her torso was contained inside a silky green corset, which had a black flower design running up the sides. Under that was a red silky skirt with green leaves running along the trim. Her legs were clad in green thigh-high stockings, which fed into a pair of black boots that ended slightly above her knees. From hands to mid-forearms, she had on a pair of fingerless fishnet gloves, which left her bright green fingernails exposed; the rest of her arms were clad in silky green shoulder-length gloves. "I can't wait to clip her wings, Mistress Ivy."
"Patience, my little Venus Flytrap. She will fly into our clutches soon enough," Poison Ivy chuckled to her little assistant-slash-lover, patting the woman formerly known as Batgirl on the head.
END OF CHAPTER ONE.
Excellent start!! Please continue.
Chapter 2
Black Canary checked the time on her cell phone. Two in the morning. She'd spent the whole night searching for Batgirl, without coming across a single lead. Just stupid, sourceless rumors around Gotham's bars and pool halls and other underworld dives.
"Damn it," the blond beauty grumbled, sliding the phone back into her boot. The stubborn part of her wanted to keep searching until the sun came up, but the more logical part warned her that her vision was already getting bleary. She really needed to get a couple hours of sacktime before she could continue her search.
Holding back a yawn, the super heroine began to make for her current lodgings: a hotel about four or five blocks away. Not exactly cheap, but it did offer the privacy that a super heroine needed in her off-time.
Black Canary made a quick calculation, and decided that a nearby alley would make for the best shortcut. She strode through that alley confidently, semi-hoping that some stupid mugger would try to jump her. A bit of pre-bedtime entertainment always did wonders for her.
What she got, however, was much more unexpected. And undignified.
"Hey- wha...!"
Thump.
"Oof!"
The great Black Canary, nationally recognized super heroine and expert martial artist, tripped up by some common bystander.
It was a testament to her tired state that she hadn't managed to catch herself in mid-fall. Instead, she crashed straight to the ground, with her sizable chest taking much of the impact.
Black Canary narrowed her eyes as she stood up and turned around to face the source of her humiliation: some fool sitting against the alley wall, legs stretched out to their full length. The fool in question was dressed in all black - trench coat, wide-brimmed hat, even sunglasses - which blended well against the night and the dirty walls. Even now, Black Canary struggled to make the figure out.
Scowling, the blond crimefighter bent down to look the black-clad figure in the face. She now recognized the figure as a woman, not that that made it any better. And was that green lipstick on her mouth? An odd shade, but somehow, it caught the heroine's eye. In fact, the forest green seemed downright soothing.
But then, she remembered her anger and redoubled it. Scowling, she demanded, "Hey, what's the big idea, buddy?"
The woman in black said nothing. Black Canary felt a vein throbbing.
"Hey, I'm talking to you-"
In an instant, the woman lunged, mashing her forest-green lips against Black Canary's in a fierce kiss. The blond heroine was caught completely off-guard, her conscious mind shutting down for a few seconds as her eyes widened and her body tensed. A warm, all-consuming sea of pleasure began to cloud her brain, turning everything upside-down...
No!
With no small effort, Black Canary pulled herself away from the green-lipped woman and furiously wiped at her mouth. She opened her mouth, rage overtaking her faster than ever-
And suddenly, it all died unborn. Her arms dropped to her sides, feeling heavier than lead. Her legs wobbled. Her eyelids began to drag themselves down, down, down, while black started to creep in on all sides of her vision. Her panicking brain kept working just long enough to realize that there might have been something more in the mystery woman's lipstick than just green dye.
"Noooooo..." was all she managed - more of a moan or a mewl than a scream of dismay - before she fell to the cold, hard ground once more. Before she knew it, her eyes had closed, and shunted her off to a deep, deep sleep.
The woman in black smiled as she watched the blond super heroine drift off to slumberland. After a quick look around, she began to shed her black clothing, revealing the bright red hair, green eyes, and green attire of the villainess known as Venus Flytrap.
With a deep breath, the villainess hooked her hands under the unconscious Black Canary's arms, and began to tow the unconscious super heroine through a nearby side door in the alley. It wasn't an easy task - Black Canary had a much larger frame, after all - but the former Batgirl was no weakling. She managed it in under a minute.
And from atop a nearby roof, the villainess' mentor, partner-in-crime and lover watched the entire scene unfold with a pair of trusty binoculars. She couldn't have been more pleased.
"You've down me proud, my little seedling," Poison Ivy cooed. "And such a pity that our Ms Canary hasn't read up on the behavior of Venus Flytraps..."
As Ivy spoke, one hand snaked down to the space between her thighs and began rubbing her groin through her leafy costume. Watching super heroine make-outs and knockouts did always get her so hot and bothered.
"Touch it once, it leaves you alone. But touch it twice... and your fate's set in stone!"
END OF CHAPTER TWO.
Black Canary checked the time on her cell phone. Two in the morning. She'd spent the whole night searching for Batgirl, without coming across a single lead. Just stupid, sourceless rumors around Gotham's bars and pool halls and other underworld dives.
"Damn it," the blond beauty grumbled, sliding the phone back into her boot. The stubborn part of her wanted to keep searching until the sun came up, but the more logical part warned her that her vision was already getting bleary. She really needed to get a couple hours of sacktime before she could continue her search.
Holding back a yawn, the super heroine began to make for her current lodgings: a hotel about four or five blocks away. Not exactly cheap, but it did offer the privacy that a super heroine needed in her off-time.
Black Canary made a quick calculation, and decided that a nearby alley would make for the best shortcut. She strode through that alley confidently, semi-hoping that some stupid mugger would try to jump her. A bit of pre-bedtime entertainment always did wonders for her.
What she got, however, was much more unexpected. And undignified.
"Hey- wha...!"
Thump.
"Oof!"
The great Black Canary, nationally recognized super heroine and expert martial artist, tripped up by some common bystander.
It was a testament to her tired state that she hadn't managed to catch herself in mid-fall. Instead, she crashed straight to the ground, with her sizable chest taking much of the impact.
Black Canary narrowed her eyes as she stood up and turned around to face the source of her humiliation: some fool sitting against the alley wall, legs stretched out to their full length. The fool in question was dressed in all black - trench coat, wide-brimmed hat, even sunglasses - which blended well against the night and the dirty walls. Even now, Black Canary struggled to make the figure out.
Scowling, the blond crimefighter bent down to look the black-clad figure in the face. She now recognized the figure as a woman, not that that made it any better. And was that green lipstick on her mouth? An odd shade, but somehow, it caught the heroine's eye. In fact, the forest green seemed downright soothing.
But then, she remembered her anger and redoubled it. Scowling, she demanded, "Hey, what's the big idea, buddy?"
The woman in black said nothing. Black Canary felt a vein throbbing.
"Hey, I'm talking to you-"
In an instant, the woman lunged, mashing her forest-green lips against Black Canary's in a fierce kiss. The blond heroine was caught completely off-guard, her conscious mind shutting down for a few seconds as her eyes widened and her body tensed. A warm, all-consuming sea of pleasure began to cloud her brain, turning everything upside-down...
No!
With no small effort, Black Canary pulled herself away from the green-lipped woman and furiously wiped at her mouth. She opened her mouth, rage overtaking her faster than ever-
And suddenly, it all died unborn. Her arms dropped to her sides, feeling heavier than lead. Her legs wobbled. Her eyelids began to drag themselves down, down, down, while black started to creep in on all sides of her vision. Her panicking brain kept working just long enough to realize that there might have been something more in the mystery woman's lipstick than just green dye.
"Noooooo..." was all she managed - more of a moan or a mewl than a scream of dismay - before she fell to the cold, hard ground once more. Before she knew it, her eyes had closed, and shunted her off to a deep, deep sleep.
The woman in black smiled as she watched the blond super heroine drift off to slumberland. After a quick look around, she began to shed her black clothing, revealing the bright red hair, green eyes, and green attire of the villainess known as Venus Flytrap.
With a deep breath, the villainess hooked her hands under the unconscious Black Canary's arms, and began to tow the unconscious super heroine through a nearby side door in the alley. It wasn't an easy task - Black Canary had a much larger frame, after all - but the former Batgirl was no weakling. She managed it in under a minute.
And from atop a nearby roof, the villainess' mentor, partner-in-crime and lover watched the entire scene unfold with a pair of trusty binoculars. She couldn't have been more pleased.
"You've down me proud, my little seedling," Poison Ivy cooed. "And such a pity that our Ms Canary hasn't read up on the behavior of Venus Flytraps..."
As Ivy spoke, one hand snaked down to the space between her thighs and began rubbing her groin through her leafy costume. Watching super heroine make-outs and knockouts did always get her so hot and bothered.
"Touch it once, it leaves you alone. But touch it twice... and your fate's set in stone!"
END OF CHAPTER TWO.
Thankyou. Thankyou very much-uh.
Fun fact: Ivy's poem about Venus Flytraps is rooted in fact. Real-life flytraps only close on their prey if their trigger hairs are touched twice in quick succession. Otherwise, they'd be clamping down every time a speck of dust landed on them.
Fun fact: Ivy's poem about Venus Flytraps is rooted in fact. Real-life flytraps only close on their prey if their trigger hairs are touched twice in quick succession. Otherwise, they'd be clamping down every time a speck of dust landed on them.
Chapter 3
Black Canary awoke to find herself in the very last place she wanted to be: strapped to an operating table in the middle of a small, dark room that was probably some kind of mad scientist lab.
"Nggghhh..." the blond bombshell groaned. Her head felt like a hornet's nest. What the hell had that crazy woman done to her?
She then tested her arms and legs, and realized the obvious: her bonds were pretty high-end, and wouldn't come loose easily. There was even some kind of rope around her throat, probably as some kind of countermeasure to her Canary Cry.
"Ah!" chirped a pleased, feminine voice. "The prey awakens..."
"Prey...?" Black Canary groaned. Her tongue still wasn't working quite right.
A feminine figure clad in all green suddenly stepped into the captured crimefighter's line of sight. The blonde took this new woman's appearance in, red hair and all. This certainly didn't take the world's greatest detective to figure out...
"Poison Ivy," Black Canary surmised, even as she realized that the woman's face looked a little too familiar. "You're one of her little hench-wenches, aren't you?"
"You're a real smart cookie!" the redhead's voice was so disgustingly chipper that it was impossible to tell whether it was serious or not. "Well, except for the little part." Her voice grew deeper and huskier as she groped and heaved her sizable chest within the confines of her silky green corset. "Do these look little to you?"
"Uh-huh," Black Canary said dryly. "Listen, little girl. I'm on an important case right now, and I really don't feel like playing with your tree-hugging boss. So why don't we just do this peacefully..."
"Lemme guess," the green-clad criminal said with a devious smile. "Looking for Bratgirl?"
Black Canary's eyes widened. "How do you-?" Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Batgirl's disappearance. Was Ivy behind it?"
"You bet your sweet ass!" the redhead laughed. "I'm afraid that Bratgirl met her un-for-tu-nate demise just a week ago. Too bad you couldn't make the funeral."
"No... you're lying!" Black Canary growled. Already, she was beginning to see red. Once she got free she was going to-
"Ah, ah, ah!" her captor held up one taunting finger. "Venus Flytrap never lies! Sure, I steal and rob and kill at Mistress Ivy's whim, but I always tell the truth.
"You'd better hope you're not," Black Canary snarled as she twisted and struggled in her bonds. "Because forget Batman, I'm going to ground you and your boss into mulch!"
The woman called Venus Flytrap just looked down at her with a contemptuous smile. "Sweet talk won't get you anywhere, my sweet little bird. Tonight, Mistress Ivy will clip your wings, and add you to her collection."
"Collection?!" Black Canary snapped, horrible images already forming in her mind. "What, did your sick freak of a boss have her stuffed and put on display?"
"Something like that," Venus Flytrap cooed as she leaned over Black Canary, her full lips and small nose hovering just a foot above the blond crimefighter's. "But enough about the past. Let's get to know each other better~"
Black Canary's eyes bulged in fury. The smug little bitch was too far away to headbutt, so she only had one weapon: the Canary Cry. And oh, was she going to enjoy using it.
Sucking in a deep breath, she prepared to expel all of her righteous anger in one sonic, skull-splitting-
"Ack!"
In an instant, all of her anger turned into panic. She cursed herself for forgetting Ivy's countermeasure as she felt the vine around her neck tightening, strangling the air right out of her and killing the Canary Cry in its crib. The vine didn't let go until she relaxed entirely, slowly letting the air in her lungs leak away. Black Canary was quickly left where she'd started: on the operating table, utterly helpless.
"Please don't try that again," Venus Flytrap cooed, playing with her silky blond hair. "Mistress Ivy would hate if her new toy broke herself before she could."
Something about the redhead's words sent a chill up Black Canary's spine. She'd heard lots of threats like that before, but Venus Flytrap looked downright orgasmic after making it. Was the little henchgirl seriously getting off on this?
Whatever. She'll have plenty of time to figure it out once she's in Arkham.
Her first priority remained the same: escape before Ivy came to dissect her or feed her to a man-eating plant or something. The Canary Cry was out, as was muscling her way through her bonds (since she was bound so tightly that she had no leverage). Thankfully, her captors didn't seem to have removed the hidden knives built into her boots.
All she had to do was wait to be left alone, and she could be out in under a minute. If she was lucky.
Venus Flytrap suddenly moved away from playing with her hair, grabbing the blond heroine's attention. Black Canary grimaced when the redheaded criminal suddenly climbed onto the operating table, and began to straddle her on all fours. She drew so close that Black Canary could feel their commingled body heat.
"Get off of me, you little pervert! I don't swing that way! I'm straight!"
"Only seventy-five percent," Venus Flytrap smirked.
Black Canary felt her blood running cold. That was a joke that she had made only once in her life. And only one other person had ever heard her make it...
And now that she really looked, the woman who called herself Venus Flytrap looked so familiar. The nose, the chin shape, the eyes, the small, lithe, but shapely build...
"Oh my God..." Black Canary whispered in horror.
"Hello, Dinah," Venus Flytrap said in the exact same voice that she had once used as Batgirl - bold and assertive, yet still professional. "Ready to play?"
END OF CHAPTER THREE
Black Canary awoke to find herself in the very last place she wanted to be: strapped to an operating table in the middle of a small, dark room that was probably some kind of mad scientist lab.
"Nggghhh..." the blond bombshell groaned. Her head felt like a hornet's nest. What the hell had that crazy woman done to her?
She then tested her arms and legs, and realized the obvious: her bonds were pretty high-end, and wouldn't come loose easily. There was even some kind of rope around her throat, probably as some kind of countermeasure to her Canary Cry.
"Ah!" chirped a pleased, feminine voice. "The prey awakens..."
"Prey...?" Black Canary groaned. Her tongue still wasn't working quite right.
A feminine figure clad in all green suddenly stepped into the captured crimefighter's line of sight. The blonde took this new woman's appearance in, red hair and all. This certainly didn't take the world's greatest detective to figure out...
"Poison Ivy," Black Canary surmised, even as she realized that the woman's face looked a little too familiar. "You're one of her little hench-wenches, aren't you?"
"You're a real smart cookie!" the redhead's voice was so disgustingly chipper that it was impossible to tell whether it was serious or not. "Well, except for the little part." Her voice grew deeper and huskier as she groped and heaved her sizable chest within the confines of her silky green corset. "Do these look little to you?"
"Uh-huh," Black Canary said dryly. "Listen, little girl. I'm on an important case right now, and I really don't feel like playing with your tree-hugging boss. So why don't we just do this peacefully..."
"Lemme guess," the green-clad criminal said with a devious smile. "Looking for Bratgirl?"
Black Canary's eyes widened. "How do you-?" Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Batgirl's disappearance. Was Ivy behind it?"
"You bet your sweet ass!" the redhead laughed. "I'm afraid that Bratgirl met her un-for-tu-nate demise just a week ago. Too bad you couldn't make the funeral."
"No... you're lying!" Black Canary growled. Already, she was beginning to see red. Once she got free she was going to-
"Ah, ah, ah!" her captor held up one taunting finger. "Venus Flytrap never lies! Sure, I steal and rob and kill at Mistress Ivy's whim, but I always tell the truth.
"You'd better hope you're not," Black Canary snarled as she twisted and struggled in her bonds. "Because forget Batman, I'm going to ground you and your boss into mulch!"
The woman called Venus Flytrap just looked down at her with a contemptuous smile. "Sweet talk won't get you anywhere, my sweet little bird. Tonight, Mistress Ivy will clip your wings, and add you to her collection."
"Collection?!" Black Canary snapped, horrible images already forming in her mind. "What, did your sick freak of a boss have her stuffed and put on display?"
"Something like that," Venus Flytrap cooed as she leaned over Black Canary, her full lips and small nose hovering just a foot above the blond crimefighter's. "But enough about the past. Let's get to know each other better~"
Black Canary's eyes bulged in fury. The smug little bitch was too far away to headbutt, so she only had one weapon: the Canary Cry. And oh, was she going to enjoy using it.
Sucking in a deep breath, she prepared to expel all of her righteous anger in one sonic, skull-splitting-
"Ack!"
In an instant, all of her anger turned into panic. She cursed herself for forgetting Ivy's countermeasure as she felt the vine around her neck tightening, strangling the air right out of her and killing the Canary Cry in its crib. The vine didn't let go until she relaxed entirely, slowly letting the air in her lungs leak away. Black Canary was quickly left where she'd started: on the operating table, utterly helpless.
"Please don't try that again," Venus Flytrap cooed, playing with her silky blond hair. "Mistress Ivy would hate if her new toy broke herself before she could."
Something about the redhead's words sent a chill up Black Canary's spine. She'd heard lots of threats like that before, but Venus Flytrap looked downright orgasmic after making it. Was the little henchgirl seriously getting off on this?
Whatever. She'll have plenty of time to figure it out once she's in Arkham.
Her first priority remained the same: escape before Ivy came to dissect her or feed her to a man-eating plant or something. The Canary Cry was out, as was muscling her way through her bonds (since she was bound so tightly that she had no leverage). Thankfully, her captors didn't seem to have removed the hidden knives built into her boots.
All she had to do was wait to be left alone, and she could be out in under a minute. If she was lucky.
Venus Flytrap suddenly moved away from playing with her hair, grabbing the blond heroine's attention. Black Canary grimaced when the redheaded criminal suddenly climbed onto the operating table, and began to straddle her on all fours. She drew so close that Black Canary could feel their commingled body heat.
"Get off of me, you little pervert! I don't swing that way! I'm straight!"
"Only seventy-five percent," Venus Flytrap smirked.
Black Canary felt her blood running cold. That was a joke that she had made only once in her life. And only one other person had ever heard her make it...
And now that she really looked, the woman who called herself Venus Flytrap looked so familiar. The nose, the chin shape, the eyes, the small, lithe, but shapely build...
"Oh my God..." Black Canary whispered in horror.
"Hello, Dinah," Venus Flytrap said in the exact same voice that she had once used as Batgirl - bold and assertive, yet still professional. "Ready to play?"
END OF CHAPTER THREE
When Spier El updates his No Turning Back story.Liar wrote:When is more coming? I need my fix yo!
(More seriously, I'm working on a Wonder Woman Christmas story right now, so probably not for a while.)