Just another magical crack fic

The End - Almost!

A/N - I decided to end this because it's silly and I'm getting ideas for other stuff. It's just for fun. It was supposed to be funny and stupid from the beginning. I'm not sure where all the angst came from. But NO MORE! This is the second-to-last chapter. 

Rita and Pinkberry Crunch were waiting for me in the lobby of HQ. This felt very much like I was being detained. I know a hell of a lot about due process, but I didn't get the impression that it mattered on a magical plane of consciousness. Rita could definitely fuck me up if she wanted to. I tried centering myself with a cleansing breath, like in yoga class, simultaneously trying to remember the self defense class I took in 2006. My eyes were closed, and I was subconsciously blocking with my forearms when Rita put a hand on my shoulder, effectively scaring the motherfucking daylights out of me.

"Whoa!" I shouted at the contact. Rita quickly backed up and pressed her palms forward in physical apology. "Whoa, whoa, calm down. Don't be so fuckin jumpy, Toothy." Pinkberry chimed in. "We just have some questions for you. You don't have to flip the fuck out." That wasn't particularly reassuring to me. The only thing they could have to question me about was Lana and Jack. As if it would help, I pursed my lips together. Despite the especially rocky relationship I had with Jack, and really all my friends, right now, I still felt a greater sense of duty to protect them against the prying minds of a nameless, faceless magical pedagogy. I was resolved. I wasn't going to sell out my friends, even though I kind of fucked things up for them all.

"You know I can read your thoughts, right? I mean, it's admirable, but I can just spend a few more moments with you and find out everything you don't want me to." Pinkberry looked at me a little disappointed as the words started to dawn on me. I did the very most logical thing. "BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA!" I started loudly singing Boombayah and doing as much of the dance as I could remember. I can only assume that was my fight or flight, last-ditch survival solution because it required so much brain power to hum the Korean verses. I was flailing around with my eyes closed, yelling "bbbrrrrra RAMBO" when Rita captured me around my middle, like I was a toddler having a tantrum. "Easy, dumbass. We're not going to hurt your friends. You can stop...whatever that was. Immediately. For real. Just stop."

Besides being a little indignant at the reaction, I was actually quite relieved to cease my auditory assault. It seemed Rita and Pinkberry were my allies. Pinkberry was obviously in charge and Rita, who never struck me as the brainy type, was the muscle. "What we have been trying to tell you before you... did all that... was that you were summoned to have your memories extracted, but we cut you off so we could prepare you. But, it seems you are already... well equipped to deal with it." Pinkberry shuddered again, probably thinking about my botched and vaguely racist rendition of K-pop.

"I don't understand what they want. I know there is this taboo about pixies, but they just–"

"DON'T–" Pinkberry interrupted me. "Don't give them anything extra. It's knowledge suppression, and I am a nothing if not a free thinker. Monopolies of knowledge are the most effective way to suppress a populace, even if they're magical. Knowledge is power, and your knowledge can bring this motherfucker down."

"But why? Why are they suppressing the information?" Like, really, why are we even doing this? Why this elaborate, obscure plot?

Pinkberry glanced to the side and broke the fourth wall a little. "Good question. What I know is all sort of piecemeal knowledge. You probably have more first-hand information than I do, seeing as you're a hybrid now."

"Hybrid? What the actual fuck? That sounds so racist! Or like, is that what it was in Harry Potter when Draco called Hermione.."

"Shhhhhut up!" Pinkberry popped me on the back of the head. "We still hate J.K. Rowling up here. As I was saying, you may be able to add more information to fill in the gaps, but here's what I understand. Pixies receive their magical bonds through cooperation and sharing. The beings with pixie magic are not in the universal lottery because however many time units ago, the pixie generation withdrew from the magical stronghold. The entities that remained held similar powers, but the power to bestow magic on someone else, to essentially manufacture magic, was lost when the pixies split off. The lottery draws from the magic well that is replenished and recycled when a magical entity dies or retires. Like entropy. You know, like how matter is neither created..:"

"I know what entropy is, Je'sus fucking Criste."

"Well, I was just explaining because you have a very stupid look on your face. And for the record, JC was post-pixie departure. Anyway, so the magic well has sort of been fine for a while, but my suspicion is that it's been diluted. We're actually having to create more magical entities in order to accommodate the population explosion over the last two hundred years. Not enough magical entities are dying, and we're having to spread more people thinner to cover all our responsibilities. Do more with less, you know. The pixies, however..."

I nodded along, trying to organize my musical catalog in my brain at the same time. I'm a good multitasker

"--listening to me? Oi! Bring it back, hun.!" Pinkberry drew me back. "Did you get all that? No? Well, short version, I think they want to find a tether so they can follow it through time and space and slaughter all the pixies and harvest their magic to refill the well."

"Sooooo, if they get to me, they can get to Lana, and then Jack, and then everyone." I winced at the thought. I was NOT the right person to go in there. If I fucked up, literally all pixies and pixie magic would be destroyed." I don't know if I can do it. I can't let them rely on me and then fuck it up. Everything I have done lately I have fucked up."

Pinkberry braced their hand on my elbow. "Your heart is in the right place. You have the resolve to protect your friends. And, as far as I can tell, you have a deep repertoire of terrible music to protect your brain. So carefully consider your range, and get the fuck in there and show us what you've got!" I grimaced as I looked up to Rita.

Rita piped up, "What she's saying, Kara, is that we believe in you. And maybe you can find something you can sing better. And maybe don't dance so hard. You're sweating." I raise my right arm for inspection, and as expected, my shirt is a little damp. I steeled myself before replying, "So, you can like, apparate some deodorant for me, right? I have some magical ass to kick."