Hello to all the famous spec writers. We just found this very kicking little group of sites and wanted to make a contribution, so would anyone mind criticing the DOD's first spec?

Spoilers: Up to and including TotBT. Memnoch never happened.

The vampires belong to Anne, bands belong to themselves and a record lable, Cat People belongs to someone, but damned if we can figure out who. Tanager is ours, so : Þ

Note: Since were new around here, a little discription: think Jay and Silent Bob in a female version, kay?= )

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Tanager pushed an ever-present wisp of flame red hair out of her eyes and continued to gaze at her new surroundings. The city was warm, the perfumed air heavy with rain. New Orleans had a spicy, exotic feel; totally unlike the cozy farm Tanager left behind. In just these few short days since Tanager’s plane landed, she began to understand what her elder sister, Irena, loved so much about the southern port. The sights, sounds, and smells held Tanager in thrall; especially the Audubon Zoological Gardens. Tanager lost untold dollars to the $9.00 gate fee; her daily visits to the Jaguar Jungle and white tiger twins had formed a black hole in Tanager’s bank account, making it difficult to stock the cupboards in her new apartment.

The setting sun was reflecting in Tanager’s eyes, making the normally green-gold orbs shine like wet blood. A gentle breeze, fresh off the river, made her simple cotton shirt billow around her thin frame like a sail. Tanager smiled softly as a mob of children on bikes nearly ran her down, parting only at he last possible second. Maybe she should look into a bicycle for herself, since these crumbling roads made rollerblading impossible and the garden was to long a walk from her home. Tanager slid down to the cement, back to the brick wall of “her” building. She wasn’t sure, exactly why she’d come here, only that her beloved sister had disappeared some time ago and Tanager promised to find Irena, to bring her home.

When Irena called with the news that Tanager’s half brother had been killed the family roared for the pretty, innocent looking middle sister to return, but of course Irena refused. She clamed that she’d finally found her prince. Very sweet, but a bit unlike Irena. Momma had thought Tanager was caught up in the arms of sleep when she and Daddy argued about Irena. Papa had demanded she come home and would send out another son to catch his wayward daughter. Mummy would have her stay, for Irena had found the happiness she lost somewhere in the wheat fields.

Now Tanager, the proverbial redheaded stepchild, had traveled all the way to Louisiana so she could find Irena and warn her about Jereth. It was her chance to payback a bit of what she owed to the women who took Tanager into their family. When Tanager was only eight her Mother died of breast cancer, leaving her only daughter lost and lonely. The confused little girl was sent to live with an aunt, Mother’s youngest sister, and her family. They had been nice enough; turning the attic into Tanager’s room, teaching her how to ride a horse, even calling her “sister,” but the fair skinned girl with hair like flame always felt out of place among her darker cousins.

Part 2

When school started that year things got worse; people grew frightened of Tanager. No one had ever seen eyes quite like hers or hair quite that shade. It didn’t help matters much that at such a young age Tanager was already an eye-catching beauty. They called her a witch, a demon, here to seduce the men of the town. When she came home sobbing Papa grounded her, he said she was giving the family a bad name, the boys only glared.

Tanager spent the evening weeping, gazing out her window at the open fields. When her Aunt and Irena finally came up to talk, Tanager had quelled her tears and calmed her jumping nerves. Irena plopped down cross-legged on the floor while her Mother perched on the edge of Tanager’s bed. Tanager glanced from one to the other.

“What’s wrong?” They both looked so somber, almost sad. Irena’s large liquid brown eyes met her mothers.

“Tanager, there’s something we need to tell you.” She began to explain. “And this is going to sound really strange at first, but you have to believe us.”

“A long time ago, when humans were still a spec of dust on the planet’s surface, the forest was a place of danger and darkness. A place to be feared. Men and women were lost to the forest almost daily, usually found later in pieces. Attacked and killed by a wild creature.” Momma’s face was far away, like she was experiencing that which she spoke.

“People began to sacrifice their children to the greatest of the beasts, the big cats, for protection.” Irena picked up one of Tanager’s stuffed animals, a small plush tiger, and tossed it to her. “Sounds horrible to me, but it’s true.”

Mother nodded. “Soon the souls of these children began to manifest themselves in the animals that slay them. Forming a new creature to stalk the darkness.”

Tanager looked to them to confirm what she began to guess. “Yes, Dear, that’s right. You mother was a beautiful jaguar, you father a doomed mortal man.”

“Are you and Irena, Poppa and the boys? Are they?”

“Were all panthers, black as the blackest night.” Irena gleamed with pride.

They went on to tell Tanager how she would change into a cat, painfully the first time, whenever her desires were to strong for her. She could never enjoy marriage with a normal man, because after the transformation the urge to kill would be uncontrollable and only a creature like herself would be able to understand and help her revert back to humanity. In the end it was all to confusing for a girl only recently turned nine. Tanager looked back from time to time wondering if it was really just a dream. In all these long years, Tanager had never changed into anything more than a striking young woman with a talent for dancing. Contrary the popular consensus, Tanager had never found herself a boyfriend, and was still very much a virgin. She had no way to test the heightened emotion theory for shape shifting.


Tanager shook her head almost violently, banishing the memories. Thinking of those times always put her into a pensive, morose mood and Tanager didn’t want to waste such a nice evening in that state. The blaring music from a passing car gave her a perfect idea. Bourbon Street was known for its clubs and bars, yet Tanager hadn’t visited any in the time she was here. Best to do it new, before she was forced into taking a job and loosing her nights. Tanager slipped back into her apartment to get ready.

Part 3

Tanager wandered from bar to bar, enjoying herself like she’d not done in a long time. It was well past midnight when she found one particular venue; a place called Diamond Rio. The music was loud, the lights dim, and alcohol flowed freely.

Tanager was only to happy to join the others on the dance floor, especially since most of the songs being played were favorites of hers: Alice in Chains, Faith No More, NiN, and Dynamite Hack to name a few of the bands. The hour was growing late, but when Bad Religion began to blast from the speakers, and the indescribably gorges blond asked her to dance, Tanager couldn’t resist one last fling. He was a great dancer; graceful and agile enough to make the fast pace of Godsmack’s song look easy. Not to mention very courteous; the few times they did touch, his hands never traveled farther down than the waist of Tanager’s jeans, and his eyes- those strange eyes the color of a morning sky just before the sun rose, a beautiful electric blue- stayed trained in on Tanager’s neon green. His enigmatic grin stayed in Tanager’s mind after Bad Religion ended and the dance floor cleared out. Tanager was a little annoyed when she noticed that she forgot to ask the man his name. Of course she could have followed him back to his seat, but he seemed to disappear into the smoke and shadows only moments after the music stopped. By now the jukebox was playing another tune, one called Spit that Tanager wasn’t to fond of. With a glance at her watch, Tanager decided it was time to go home and attempt to sleep.


When Tanager stepped out of the bar she was slapped in the face by a gust of cold wind. Why, oh, why did she go and leave her jacket at home? That nice, warm, soft, leather jacket with pockets deep enough to keep her wrists covered too. Wasn’t New Orleans supposed to be tropical? Tanager mused as she began the long walk back to her apartment.


So deep in thought was she, that Tanager didn’t hear the soft tat tat of shoes on the sidewalk somewhere behind her. A dark figure with hair that just barely brushed it’s, his shoulders. Everything about him practically glowed in the moonlight, his pale skin, dark eyes, soft curls; yet Tanager still didn’t see him. Instead she felt him; a strange tingly tickle in the back of her brain. She turned, seconds to late. The shadow-man was pushing her back against a wall and forcing her head back almost gently.


Tanager was beyond terrified, and only became more frightened when she felt two pricks, like hypodermic needles on her neck. She was swimming, somewhere between his mind and hers. A vampire? Unbelievable! But no more so than a cat-woman. . . Oh that feels so nice, like swimming at night in the middle of August, or wrapping up in a blanket fresh from the dryer; warm and fuzzy and somehow cold and sharp at the same time.


Something screamed inside Tanager, stretching and pulling, trying to break free. The vampire had let her go; surprise gleaming is his chocolate eyes as they reflected Tanager’s anguished face. Oh God, what was happening? Tanager felt as though her skeleton was trying to jump out of her skin and tap dance on the cement, and judging from the vampire’s expression-what was his name? Tanager knew she heard it before this began, but now, well now she couldn’t think of anything but the pain. Tanager could see it now, now with the benefit of a mirror, but in her mind. Her back arched as her spine grew, a long whip-like thing protruding from above her thighs. Her once long and thin fingers were shriveling away and being replaced by dangerous looking claws, Death’s scythe. In her mouth, opened in a silent scream, fangs not unlike her comrade’s-what was his name?- grew sharp and wicked. As the very bones in her face and legs grew and changed their shapes, a thick covering of reddish-orange fur dotted with black rosettes began to grow in a tidal wave over Tanager’s body. It was over now, Tanager lay on the sidewalk trembling and panting quietly. She just wanted to slink home now, and sleep for the rest of the day, but her attacker had a different idea. San? No, not Spanish, but. . . His hand was already trailing down Tanager’s neck and along her back, petting her like some kind of house cat. A low rumble began in her throat, but died out before coming into it’s own. Tanager just didn’t have the energy to make the jaguar’s roar come out. Now his arms were working their way under her body. What was this guy on? Did he really expect to lift her? Nearly one ton of pure muscle? Ah, never mind. . . Tanager’s head fell back against his shoulder allowing her to catch a glimpse of the door she’d walked out of not two minutes earlier. Hey, wasn’t that the guy she danced with? He looked kinda mad now.


:::Santino! What in Hell are you doing?!:::


His voice was painfully loud, but by now Tanager was feeling more numb than anything else. At least she knew one name now. Tanager fell into the blackness that was floating around the edges of her mind before she had the chance to hear Santino’s answer or the other’s name.