Charles Milsten

Charles managed an awkward chuckle and shrugged. “Seems like quite a few people are in the same boat,” he said with a small smile. “Um, Brooke Milsten. She’s blonde, long hair, uh… Kind of new around here. She’s got blue eyes and freckles. Know anybody like that?” This was weird. Charles didn’t think he’d ever have to describe his sister before, and certainly not while wondering what she looked like male…

It’d been a few weeks since Uriel’s death, and the Nephilim had pretty much retreated into the shadows to avoid arrest from C.A.R.M.A. Jaden still couldn’t understand how those pathetic humans and the despicable pets managed to rid the earth of their leader; it made her absolutely sick. She was one of the few Nephilim who refused to hide away, although she did use a glamour to walk around Pansaw without being arrested on the spot. It infuriated her to see the town being rebuilt and everyone coming together like the end of some superhero movie where the good guy won. Pathetic, really. If only they knew this wasn’t the end…

This morning had been weird. She’d gone to bed early the prior night, feeling like a cold was coming on, and when she’d woken up, she’d apparently undergone a physical transformation she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t long before she heard the announcement on television that most of Pansaw was experiencing the same “problem” and that her changed sex would only be temporary for a few days. Temporary or not, Jaden intended to the make the most of her male form, and she was incredibly thankful her weasel little brother had left some clothes behind from when they were in the Nephilim mansion since she now stood at about Cyrus’ height, six foot even. Dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, dark wash jeans, boots, and a leather jacket, the magician sauntered into town without a care in the world, and headed for the nearest bar. It was packed tonight––mostly with people drinking away their dysphoria, she was gathering from just a quick telepathic scan of the room. She went straight the counter, bought herself a beer, and then scouted the room for someone to approach. She found her target, strolling over to them and leaning against the counter next to them with a confident smile. “Hey there,” she greeted, her deeper voice still strange to hear. “Mind if I buy you a drink?” 

Charles stood inside the rebel base, the most uncomfortable he’d ever been in his life. And everyone else looked pretty panicked too. He never would have come if he hadn’t heard about the escaped Meta on the news, which quelled his fear quite a bit. This morning had been scary. No other word for it. Charles glanced around one last time and finally decided to just find some courage and ask somebody. He tried to pick out the calmest-looking person in the room and introduced himself. “Hi, my name is Charles,” he said slowly, still not used to such a high pitched voice. Or anything about his current self. “I’m looking for my sister- Well, she might be a he at this point.” He winced, uncomfortable with the whole thing. “Sorry. I’m Charles Milsten. I don’t normally look like this.”

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