Snap snap snap.
The sound of the camera clicks breaks me from my reverie. Another day, another deluge of demanding interviews for the adoring public. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my fans but sometimes…I wanted to just transform and maul a reporter for asking me what color of underwear I was wearing. I look around and see that the conference room was a stark contrast to the stages I used to. The harsh, humming fluorescent lights hung heavily, a brutal reminder of the times when I couldn’t perform. I could hear the scratch of pens on paper, smell the mix of coffee, perfume, and lingering sweat. My sequined dress felt stiff and hot. Reporters shuffled their notes, their questions already testing my patience.
Snap snap snap.
“Miss Villanueva, your concert is scheduled for tomorrow night, do you have any plans after that? Perhaps a date?” I smile prettily at the reporter, all teeth and fluttering lashes before I give him my answer with a flirtatious wink.
“No, but maybe you can change my mind~.” Both lies, the man wasn’t my type, but the blush on his face would be enough to silence him. As for my plans after the concert, well, it’s best the media didn’t go snooping around for what I had planned.
One down, twenty to go. I point a perfectly pretty and bedazzled manicured finger towards a middle-aged african-american woman with a short afro-hairstyle.
Snap snap snap.
“I’m Sherri from ZMT. Miss Villanueva, you’re the first Biovive to earn the Brammy Music Award. How does that make you feel?”
“While I’d loooove to bore you with the speech I gave at the awards ceremony, I’d instead say that I feel overwhelmed and incredibly lucky. The reception to my album topping the charts…it’s…a lot, to say the least.” I say this with sincerity as I brush a stray lock of my wine-red hair away from my face.
Snap snap snap.
“Over here Miss Villanueva! Your advocacy for anti-segregation with regards to Biovives such as yourself have been met with mixed results. How do you plan on retaliating?” My manager moved to answer the question, but I raised a hand in a slight gesture. I could handle the paparazzi, especially whoever this reporter was. Sadly, I could see that this gesture did not go appreciated by said manager as she pursed her lips.
The reporter was handsome, but there were parts of him that made him look untrustworthy from the weasel-like look in his eyes which held a sly glint to the cocky smile he held.
“Retaliating? Perhaps you’d like to rephrase your question. I’m not an advocate for war. I only seek to bridge the gap between Biovives such as myself, and humans like you.” I put on a hurt look with just enough acting to garner the sympathy of fans worldwide. Whoever this reporter was thought that they were clever. Sadly, not clever enough.
Snap snap snap.
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The rest of the pre-concert interview goes off without a hitch after that, though before I think myself safe and left to my own devices, I realize I had just left myself alone with one Aska Khakster. A bit shorter than most, but her presence makes her seem taller. Her suit is sleek, sharp, and sophisticated, giving her an air of quiet confidence. Her ash-grey hair is pulled into a double braided bun, with a single jet-black streak running through it, framing her horns. One is broken, its jagged stump stark against the polished curve of the other, which twists slightly in an uneven spiral. Her glowing amber eyes are striking, their sharp gaze impossible to ignore.
To those of you who don’t know, Aska is my longtime friend, Manager, and Bodyguard. A Warmblood Biovive with a mean streak and enough verbal knowhow to make a bitch squirm. I hurriedly attempted to fish my phone out of my purse in an attempt to pretend that I was unafraid and ignoring her, however she swiftly sears me with a sharp, seething glare.
“Why bother paying me, when clearly you can handle the bio-bigots yourself. You did a damn ass job of pretending to be hurt by the way. There’s a new meme of you spreading with the hashtag ‘Biovive Butthurt’.” That…didn’t bode well. Still,
“Aska…” I say this as I feel the bioluminescent petals that were my ears falter from a warm, proud glow to a slight glimmer. She was pissed…
“Don’t you ‘Aska’ me, Ringo. That was terrible. Humans like you? Gods above, how am I going to explain this to the studi-!” Aska’s terrifying tirade is suddenly cut off by the rushing of footsteps combined with the acrid scent of sweat. The sight of a fan breaking past the barriers makes me worry, not for myself nor Aska, but for well…
“Ringo Villanueva, I’m your number one faaaaaaaaaaaaaa-!” Aska’s horns take on a sinister blue glow as she grits her teeth and promptly smashes a would-be stalker into the wall. A snap and a crack and yeah, that guy’s jaw is broken…
“Oh~...How am I supposed to explain THIS to the studio huh?!” I playfully retort. Twirling one of the bioluminescent thorn vines that was mixed with my hair.
“Legend will go down that Aska the Bodyguard smited her foe with the strength of Thor to protect the fair maiden known as Ringo!” I roll my eyes at the level of seriousness in Aska’s voice. She was such a chuuni sometimes.
“I should really cut off contact between you and my little brothers. You three watch too much TeekTook.” I say this with an exasperated sigh as I brush off the nonexistent dust off of my sequined dress before fishing out a handkerchief from my Goocci purse.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Aska says this with a gaunt glower as she wipes the fan-grime off of her wrist before pocketing the kerchief.
“You’re right, I’d never risk making my little bros upset. Sigh…” I once again sigh in exaggerated exasperation as the other staff began to call for an ambulance.
We strutted together in silence after that, making our way to the pick-up point where the limo was waiting. All the while I noticed that Aska fished out a cigarette from her coat pocket, a habit she picked up from god-knows-where. She then lights the cigarette on her broken, ashen horns before taking a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a perfect smoke circle.
“Next time just…let me handle the troublemakers okay?” She says this sternly as she opens the door and gestures for me to get in.
I nod sheepishly as I give her a sincere smile before I enter the car.
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During April 13, 1917, a clandestine experiment within a secret Austrian laboratory went awry. An explosion shook the very earth as the remnants of inhumane experimentation seeped into the earth’s atmosphere causing various humans all over the globe to experience bioluminescent mutation.
This mutagen, which would later come to be known as Evolvium, created a new species of humans with bio-supernatural powers. Initially hated and persecuted, these beings, who came to be known as Biovives, went into hiding. Many thought that these beings were unholy, and various religions from all over the globe labelled these unnatural creatures as devils and demons.
It wasn’t until October 31st of 1919, that the first recorded ‘death’ of a Biovive was witnessed. A Biovive woman by the name of Sable Arkham was declared a witch for her uncanny ability to calm those around her. She was burned at the stake not only for her crime of witchcraft but also because of the bioluminescent mushrooms that crowned her head.
In her famous “last” moments she embarrassed her soon-to-be ex-husband as she revealed that he was an adulterer. Iconically going down in history for listing down all the maidens he husband deflowered.
This was not the “end” of Sable’s story however, as she finally succumbed to the flames, something else took over. Her skin formed burned spores as her entire form grew grotesque mushrooms and malformed sporecaps. What once was a fair and beautiful servant woman was now a mycelial monstrosity bound for vengeance.
Death was not the end for Biovives it seemed, as Sable exhaled caustic spores all over her small village, causing all who breathed it in to commit various acts of suicide. This event, which came to be known as The Spore Witch’s Revenge, revealed that death was merely a gateway for Biovives to transform into more monstrous forms. A fact that many militaries and governments around the globe took note of by the time World War 2 came around.