Shadow Hearts From the New World - The Mark

Author's Note: I wrote this a few years ago. I haven't written anything new in a couple weeks, and I noticed that X-Blades' mascot has been getting a lot of attention yet Shania gets almost none (design-wise, X-Blades' mascot is pretty much a copy of Shania with a few tweaks), so I decided to add this to other sites. The main inspiration was that if SHFTNW were historically accurate to social trends, Shania's choice of clothing would be EXTREMELY scandalous.
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"Are you sure you'll be alright alone?" Johnny asked. Natan silently leaned against the wall inside Johnny's New York apartment. Lenny kept at the menial tasks that went with his position as Johnny's servant. The rest of the group was too busy chatting inside Johnny's pitiful excuse for an office, its attempt at professionalism ruined by the bedroom just above it and the living room mere feet away.

"Of course I'll be fine, or do you think the spirits dwelling inside me aren't enough power?" Shania answered in a caustic tone. "And remember, my people trained me to defend myself even without my spirit contracts."

"Okay, yeesh, sorry to ask," Johnny remarked.

As the young teen turned back toward the office, Shania briefly saw through the bit of Malice that clouded her thoughts and realized exactly how onerous she sounded. Silently, she reached out to the youth, her wavering voice withheld as Johnny joined the others. Her arm fell. Her eyes shifted back to Natan, the hulk of a bodyguard not granting the Native American princess even a passing glance. Underneath it, she knew Natan cared and worried, that he wanted to join her in her search, yet she wanted- no, had to do it alone. She had to find Lady and kill her. Any time waiting in Johnny's apartment was time wasted, and the others would only hold her back. She turned away from her teammates and headed out the door, the creak of its hinges trailing behind her.

The door of the front steps banged after her as she exited the Garland Detective Agency. She noticed the midday sun shining down on the streets, the children happily laughing and playing on the sidewalks, the honking cars.

"There's the woman."

"Huh?" Shania peered around. Of all the things she expected when she left the building, recognition wasn't anywhere among them. The sensation of her arms being pulled behind her back, of cool metal sliding against her wrists, and a light clinking sound came as more of a shock to her, especially when combined with the rough thrust of her body against a car.

"She has a couple hatchets on her belt, I'll put them in the trunk before we leave," she heard someone behind her state.

"Hey, you can't-!" Shania managed to spout before she felt the weight of her weapons lift off her hips. "What the hell is going on?!"

"Miss, you're under arrest for public indecency," she heard to her left. When she glanced over, she saw a uniformed police officer with a notepad and pen in hands, and she could guess well that she had a second officer behind her.

"What do you mean by 'public indecency'?!" Shania demanded. As she said it, she consciously fought the urge to struggle. Her logical mind knew the need to follow the laws, but her heart and the taint of Malice told her to resist.

"Don't pretend you're naive," the officer reprimanded. "You know the proper style of dress in public, and street prostitution is illegal in New York."

"STREET PROSTITUTION?!" Shania shrieked. The situation started coming off more insane by the second.

"Our anonymous tipster told us about your little 'service', but until we gather more evidence, we have to settle with public indecency."

Shania foamed at the accusation as they put her in the back seat of the police car and shut the door after her. She looked up at the window of the apartment as the car drove away, hoping that her allies would come soon to take care of this awkward mess.

***

Ugh, do they ever have anything interesting to say?" Shania thought-griped. The ride to the station was uneventful. The officers in the front seats talked about mundane affairs of their lives the whole way, things that made Shania feel like she'd die of boredom. When she was first arrested, she never thought she'd be so happy to see the station when they reached it. The car halted in front of the building, and one of the officers opened the door for her. She shimmied over and saw the officer's hand extended to her as she placed her feet on the ground.

"Don't bother," Shania huffed as she stood and walked toward the entrance. With both men leading her inside, she tensed, her head slightly bowed and blonde locks draping her face. The bustle of the station rang in her ears as the entered, telephones ringing and chatter between cops pervading the air. Her own uniformed escorts took her to the front desk, where a bulky, balding man stopped in the middle of his paperwork to greet them.

"Ah, I see you got another one of them. The chief will be pleased to hear we're making progress," the man said.

Unable to bear the insinuation much longer, Shania half-growled, "I'm NOT a prostitute!"

"That's what they all say," the man smugly retorted. "Then we show them the evidence and, well, they can't act like they're innocent when we have that much detailed paperwork on file about their dealings."

"Urrgh!" Shania let out a frustrated groan, body shaking from the anger consuming her senses as the desk officer gave a key to the men that arrested her. They led her down the middle hallway of the jail, where she suffered from the verbal abuse of the felons and convicts locked within their cells. Their comments about her 'luscious tits' and 'hooker ass', among other statements, made her more furious than the accusations leveled at her by the police. At least in their case, they were misinformed; the crooks had something else in mind.

The slow, agonizing walk brought her to a lone cell. Once opened, she stepped inside and turned to watch as they locked her in and started to walk off.

"HEY! What about these things?!" Shania shouted as she rushed to the bars that held her.

"Miss, bribing us with your body isn't going to help your case," one of the men answered. The man's ignorance was almost enough for Shania to ditch civility and change into her Thunderbird form right then and there.

"No, THESE! The cuffs."

"Oh, those," the man added. "Our tipster told us you might be dangerous if we removed them. Don't worry, we'll take them off when we're sure it's safe."

Shania protested, but the men wouldn't hear her out, their steps growing distant until she couldn't hear a single trace of them.

***

The hours passed slowly in her cell, the sunlight falling low through the window. It brought an orangish hue to her normally dull gray surroundings, a vision that made the unnerving silence of her jail cell a little more bearable. When she heard the sound of a padlock unlocking to one end of the hallway, she leapt up and rushed to the bars. Her face and breasts mashed into them. She didn't care. She struggled for a good view of the far end, spotting a shadow of a man splattered against one of the walls.

"So you're the one my boys brought in today," she heard coming from the distance. The masculine voice was soon accompanied by the imposing figure of well-muscled, dark-haired man that wore the typical garb that, if Shania had ever been to a moving pictures theater, she would have recognized as something worn by one too many fictional detectives. Shania stepped away from the bars as the man reached the door, watching a petty officer produce a key from his pocket.

"Can I go now?" Shania asked, her rage now calmed by the past few hours' wait.

"Not yet miss." As the man said this, the cell door opened with a painful screech. "Come with me."

Shania sighed and stepped out of the cell. How much longer do I have to put up with this? she thought. She shrugged when she caught the guard eyeing her tits, and followed the detective down the hallway. This time, she was pleased to see all the cells empty, saving her from the infuriating leers and catcalls that came her way when she first arrived.

Their trek brought them to a single room. The detective pushed the door open, revealing a drab and bleak environment that consisted of nothing more than a table and a couple chairs. The room even lacked a window, light provided solely from overhead. Guided along by the detective, she swayed over to one of the seats and sat, hearing the door click and lock shut behind them.

"Alright, show your hands so I can uncuff you," the detective said. More than eager for the chance to move her arms, she turned her back to the man and relished the feel of his rough knuckles against the inside of her forearms as he put the key in the lock and popped them off.

Tossing the cuffs on the table, the detective sat in the second chair. "So, before we get started, I'd like to hear your side of the story."

"I haven't done anything wrong," Shania began.

"Then would you mind explaining what you were doing standing out on the side of the street wearing so little clothing?"

"Where I come from, these clothes are acceptable," Shania explained. "AND, I'm a princess of the Garvoy tribe. I would never offer my body like that. I would never shame my ancestors that way, and I don't need the money."

The detective hmmed at her statement. "Sounds like a good cover story, miss." His words caused Shania to perk up, wondering where he would take it next as he continued his spiel. "You're an exotic woman, and it's awfully convenient for you to claim that your heritage is to blame for your conduct. It's the perfect crime... until you have to explain this."

Upon uttering those words, he revealed a strange red stone from his brown jacket and placed it before her on the table. The glyph etched into its side was one Shania didn't know, but she could already feel its mystical properties seeping into her. She squirmed and pushed herself back a little.

The detective smirked.

"You didn't think we'd find out, did you?" he said. "We had a professor from Arkham University that specializes in this work tell us what it means after the guy that tipped us off to you gave this to us as evidence of your dealings. It certainly adds to your 'mystique,' doesn't it?"

The sensation grew stronger within her, the feel of Malice converting into something entirely different. Her anger melted away, oozing into a deep passion. Her nipples stiffened against the red fabric inside her skimpy top, her loins became wet, and finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She lunged out of her chair and onto the table top, crawling slowly toward the man, her breasts swaying and heaving as she panted away the heat of desire.

"Oooh..." Shania lustily groaned and grinned. "It looks like you found me out. Is there any way we can come to an 'arrangement' here?" The look of overwhelmed shock on the detective's face did nothing to dissuade her in her quest for sex. Despite his years of experience with these cases, Shania's spirited forwardness left him paralyzed as she undid his belt and popped open his trousers. In the midst of it, he barely managed to sound out a protestation.

"Y... you..."

She looked up at him with a seductive smile. "If you're worried I might be 'unclean', you don't have to worry, I'm new enough."

Her hand yanked out his member, and her lips wrapped around it with ease. Its taste and feel brought her more pleasure than she'd thought possible, her nerves calmed and mind at peace. Within a few bobs of her head, she began to wonder why she had ever so viciously denied the claims against her. Her motions were unusually expert, and it didn't take long for the man to cum, his seed flooding into her mouth and down her throat. She didn't even gag when it pelted the back of her throat, and she licked along his shaft a few times before pulling out.

"Mmm.. I wouldn't mind another round if that's what it takes," Shania cooed.

The detective went wide-eyed at her suggestion. Just as she knelt to take further advantage of him, he stumbled back and re-placed his pants.

"Guards!" he shouted. In less than a second, the door unlocked, and a couple officers entered and rushed toward uncouth princess. It didn't take them long to cuff her arms behind her back again, in large part thanks to Shania's own cooperation.

"Oh! Kinky!" she excitedly proclaimed. Expecting the men to have their way with her, she eagerly followed them out the door and down the hall.

That's when she felt it. The heat of lust that had burned so hotly within her, died out with each step she took from the room.

"What did I...?" she murmured. Complacency gave way to confusion, then disgust. As she trudged down the hall, she could still taste the detective's seed on her lips.

"Why did I..."

***

Hunched forward on her cell's bench, Shania stared at the floor and pondered. What came over me in there? I never felt anything so powerful and so pure. I thought nothing could replace my hatred for Lady, but this... She thought about her husband and all the times she refused him, and wondered how she would explain herself. Or if she should tell him at all.

When she heard the metallic clang on the bars of her cell, Shania leapt from the bench, snapping instantly from her trance. Her darting glance was met by two figures. The first, nothing more than another officer, but the second held nothing to her that looked familiar. Her red hair cascaded down to her full rump, her body outfitted with a black dress that came off as racy for its time, trimmed with lacy red. The strange woman's blue eyes looked like pools of wonder, and the red lipstick adorning her lips gave the perfect hue for presentation.

"You're free to go," the guard said.

"I am?" Shania asked.

"I paid your fine," the woman said, her voice sultry and smooth.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I have to ask... why?"

The smirk that formed on the woman's lips unnerved Shania. As grateful as she was to the woman for her help, something about the redhead's demeanor left her puzzled and worried. It wasn't until she felt a familiar tingling course through her limbs that she understood it.

"From what I've been told, you'll work it off it no time," the woman mused. "All you need is a little persuasion."

She could feel it. The glow of the glyph that brought her humiliation transcended the cloth that hid it, reaching out to her spirit and spreading down to her loins. A hot, breathy sigh poured forth from her lips, and suddenly, she couldn't wait to hear what kind of 'work' the woman had to offer.

"Ma'am," the officer said to the redhead. "I hope you're not suggesting-"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it!" she hastily corrected. "I have a much better place where I can employ her than in the streets like some despicable alley rat."

Appearing to accept this statement, the officer nodded and opened the jail cell. As the blonde Indian warrior hopped out, the man undid the cuffs that clasped her arms together.

Shania 'aww'ed her disappointment.

"Do not fret," the woman urged. "There will be plenty of chances for you to have that brand of fun." Then, she leaned in close, her sultry lips inches from the blonde's ear as she whispered. "I advise against stripping here, tempting as it may be. You will have many opportunities for that, too." The mutual grin between them as the redhead pulled away spoke of an understanding that went beyond words. Shania freed of the confines, they headed toward the front of the station. The whole way, Shania swayed her hips to and fro in the most lascivious, wanton gait that her body could muster. Her every motion exuded passion, form brimming with raw, unbridled lust. If not for the mystery woman, Shania could almost lunge at any of the men and women she passed and have her way with them. On the way out, they only stopped for once.

"Hey, miss," the officer at the front desk called. "We confiscated a couple personal items of yours when we arrested you."

Shania's savior turned and answered, "That's quite all right. She won't be needing them."

Shania offered the man one last cock-teasing smirk, then strutted out the door behind her bailor.

***

As Shania stood to the side of the stage, she watched her employer walk up to the stage microphone. Within a single day, Adele had taught her everything she needed to know for her new profession. Anticipation made Shania jittery as she listened to her own introduction.

"That act was lively, but if you were impressed by that, I have a special treat for you tonight," Adele coaxed. "She's a real wild one. After living off the earth and indulging her every passion like a savage beast, this woman of the land decided to come out to the city and show the world what nature has to offer."

Somewhere inside, Shania knew she should be offended by the woman's distorting of her past. Instead, she glowed at the praise the built up her impending show. The acclaim seemed to end all too quickly, and she could hear the greeting claps of the audience. Her audience. She felt the cool touch of the stone and the heat of its symbol touch her rear end as Adele passed her by. Charged with a renewed burst of passion, Shania nearly tripped over herself in her excitement as she strutted on stage.

Her hair waved with the rush of her body as she stepped out, the braids set in near the scalp keeping most of it from flying about. The cheer that greeted her made her more flustered as she reached center stage and turned to face the crowd. The moment she saw everyone, she felt overwhelmed by their presence.

All those eyes, all on me... she thought in wonder. A little bit of her said to run off the stage, to get out of there before she made a fool of herself.

Her hands rested on her hips as the music kicked in. Her hips buckled left and right in time with the beat, and she made a few paces to the stage front. She capped the stop in her steps by cocking her hip to the left and smiling seductively at her onlookers. Then, suddenly, she gyrated her hips as she spun in place, arms moving up her body to rest her arms over her hair, her hands on the fluff at the back of her head. In the heat of the moment, her mane of hair made her look almost feral, the image of a true lioness. She paused when her ass came into view, and she shook it lightly for the enthusiastic crowd.

I guess it's time to give them their money's worth, she thought. Slowly, teasingly, her hands went down and grasped the sides of her hot pants. Catching her red panties at the same time, she brought them down at an agonizing pace to her feet, giving her audience their first look at her wondrous toned body as she kicked the discarded garments out to her crowd. The stench of sex wafted from her loins, more powerful than the most potent of perfumes. The smell spoke of carnality and raw lust, unhindered by the strict ethics of civilized life.

Turning to face them again, she dropped forward to tease them with the valley of her cleavage. Her hands traveled down from her hair to the back of her head, yanking on the line of yellow thread that held her top against her chest. All at once, she yanked out the knot and tossed the strands to their opposite ends. The rest fell into place naturally. Rising to a full stand, her top dropped to the floor, the red ribbon and her arm sleeves going with it. The dark, erect nipples of her hefty bosom showed to the crowd, and she gave them a furtive wink.

Now for something that'll really take them by surprise. The black tattoos showed on her vibrant tanned flesh, but one started to show out more than the others. While spinning, a white light enveloped Shania's wing tattoo at her upper back, and she herself became consumed in its light. For a moment, its intensity caused some panic in the crowd, but then it began to fade. As the light died out, they saw a whole new figure on the stage, her wings flapping gently as feathers fell from her sides. If this had happened anywhere else, the change would've caused a ruckus. Instead, the audience cheered at the transformation, waiting to be gratified by the next part of the woman's show.

Adele wasn't lying. These people do know about the spirits, Shania reflected, floating in the air with her Thunderbird form. Her fingers deftly moved down to her chest, slowly prying away the blue confines of her breasts one by one. Her pointed, elfish ears caught the amused whispers of her audience as she revealed more of her alabaster skin. As Shania's first nipple came into view, there were audible gasps at its dark blue tone. She took less time to bare her second breast, ripping away its covering quickly.

Then, she did something unexpected. Reaching out, she plucked first one, then another feather from the air. She inched them closer to her breasts, touching their purple tips to each nipple and softly rubbing. The tickle that she felt on the hard nubs brought a giggle from her dark indigo lips, then a moan. Her body primed, Shania sent the feathers floating out to the center of the room, and they shattered into thin air as her body glowed once again, a fine yellow dust cloud forming around her.

What sounded like a boulder smashing onto the stage was soon revealed to be the earthy beast-woman of Ta'tanka as the dust dispersed. Her gigantic, blackish-blue claws roughly clamped onto her mammoth, hair-covered tits. She let out a mighty roar as she threw her head back. Her fingers mashed and mauled her breasts with abandon, ignoring the pain they caused to her yellow skin. Her earthy scent gave off a cavewoman appeal even as she lowered her head and stared out at the crowd with her yellow, cat-like eyes. With her flared nostrils, Shania looked about ready to pounce on the nearest male of the crowd and ride him like only a real beast could.

One of her claws made its way down her flexed abs and through the grove of brown hair at her crotch, finding its way to her cunt. She shoved a single hooked finger inside the hole, instantly wracking her body with pleasure. A spirited, soul-shaking howl filled the room as she went at it, ramming her finger in and out at a frenzied pace. Just when it started to look like she would finish the deed, another light enveloped her, and with it went the crazed beast-woman.

As the aura of yellow shifted to blue, Shania converted into the truly eye-astonishing sight of La Sirene. The mix of blue and red in her appearance looked more natural than expected, and the scent of the sea replaced the smell of earth. She floated there, hands buried through the jelly-like outfit she wore to feel the pearl of her loins. Both of her hands played outside her slit now, her head bowed forward as she silently breathed her passion. Her long red and blue hair seemed to almost wave behind her head with the bob of her body in the air. Orbs of water floated beside her, and all at once pelted her feminine form to cool its warmth. Carrying the heat of her burning passion with it, rivulets of water dribbled down onto the wooden stage. She softly moaned as she orgasmed, feeling her fluids flow to mix with her jellyish wardrobe, and she drifted downward as a spark of red glowed at the center of her chest.

Her form restructured yet again as the light overtook her, and with it, the heat of a raging inferno was sent out from the stage. The regal look of Tirawa had replaced the calm and soothing La Sirene. Her light red skin and bright red hair was framed by an outfit made of gold, her swords impaled on the stage floor to her sides as her juices dripped to the spot between them. Panting, she stared out at her audience with authority, blue eyes peering deeply into each and every one of them. Suddenly, her swords lifted and spun around on their own, their crazed motions alarming all but Shania herself. They moved in circles around her body, then without notice, impaled their hilts deep into her virgin rear and worn pussy. They lifted her high, her juices flowing along the golden metal of her blade. It reached the tip, a single drop dripping down to the floor.

Another flash of light, and all of it shifted back to normal. The stage returned to its pristine state, the volcanic heat cooled across the room, and even Shania looked the same as before her sordid presentation in every way.

Every way, except her new tattoo. The mark glowed at the middle of her torso, the light fading to leave behind an emblem inked in red. It rested above the glyph for Ta'tanka, and as she glanced down to get a good look at it, she realized what it meant.

In all of creation, from man to bird to insect, each entity had a calling. Just as the spirits had their own symbols, so too did everything else. She knew the story well, passed down to her from the shaman of her tribe before its destruction. Her own symbol stood out in crimson against the rest of her tattoos, demanding notice and respect. Shania glimmered and beamed at the new mark. Her body was built to please, her mind ready to fulfill the darkest, most unspeakable desires of all who called upon her. For all who knew its language, they would know in the very instant they saw the glyph that Shania had found her life's calling as a nature-born whore.

She basked in the adoring crowd's whistles, hollers and claps as she moved off the stage, musing on the number of clients she was sure to have that evening.

***

The phone rang, and Adele snatched it from her desk.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hello, Miss Geroux," a man said on the other end, his voice formal yet a little creepy. "How did your new, err, showgirl turn out?"

"Mmm.. she's done quite well for us, Professor Gilbert," Adele said. "I can't thank you enough for your help in finding such a catch."

"Oh, think nothing of it my dear. She was a real thorn in my side, and I thought that in your service would be the, err, appropriate place to get her out of the way. Now are you sure she's secure as one of your workers?"

Adele dreamily hummed and answered, "Very sure. The mark on the stone you gave me appeared on her body as a tattoo, and ever since, she's been a real spirited show-stopper. I haven't needed to use your stone in weeks."

"Good, good," Gilbert appraised. "I think I'll come see one of her shows for myself some time soon. Keep up the good work, dear."

As Adele hung up the phone, she thought on the mileage she would get out of her new whore. Despite the recent troubles of the country, Shania was sure to bring in a hefty profit.