A well defined glare stricken across her pale face, she was becoming more and more aggravated by her team. They hadn't been out-and-about fighting as much as usual, and therefore were becoming restless.

"Dudes! I'm getting fat…" Beast Boy complained, observing his muffin-top in a mirror worriedly.

"Maybe if you went to the gym more than once a month, you'd have a rockin' body like me," Cyborg gloated, a wide grin gleaming smugly.

Turning away from his reflection, the jaded boy pushed his lower lip up in an adorable pout, even if he meant it to be a fearsome one.

"Aw, wittle Weast Woy is a wittle angwey," the half robot, half jock teased, flipping a burger into the air, his absurd chef hat tilting back and forth as he watched the greasy thing flip.

"Ya' know," his friend cracked, a mischievous smile growing. "Burgers won't help those lunch lady arms of yours."

Coming onto the grill with a perfectly timed thud and a puff of steam, Cyborg's eyes widened self consciously as the burger below him broiled, causing a low giggle to peep out in the background.

His eyes narrowed angrily as Robin chuckled from the couch. Pleasantly eavesdropping, the conversation was highly amusing to the teen, to the boy who never gained a pound.

"You got something to say?!" the robot yelled, now up in arms, his spatula aimed pretentiously at the spiky head. "At least I'm not anorexic!"

So it begins. Raven rolled her eyes heavily; it didn't take an Empath to sense an idiotic argument was brewing.

"I'm not anorexic!" Robin defended childishly. "I just eat right, exercise, and…"

"Run like forty million miles a day," Beast Boy chimed in. "Sounds pretty obsessive to me, dude."

As she predicted, they all started yelling. Vulgarities concerning fat mothers erupted as well as a folly competition about who had the most impressive muscle, thus leading to all of them ripping off their shirts, in Cyborg's case opening his metal chest cavity, pointing at their upper bodies in a puff of insecurity.

She set the book down, placed her tea cup upon the counter, and stood.

"Idiots…" she mumbled under her breath before calmly walking out of the room.

She passed a confused Starfire on the way out and heard the alien girl diplomatically assert:

"Friends, all of you are in unfavorable statuses concerning your health, do not argue."

Poor Starfire…Raven pitied sarcastically as the door shut closed.

Through the decreasing crack of the panels, a multitude of cusses were already flying from the mouths of the macho men to the girl with the scarlet hair.

Luckily Raven wasn't around to hear it.

The hallway shimmered from dim lights, the shadows playfully trotting with her as she wandered down to her room. Her mind filled anxiously with wondrous images of flickering candles, sacred texts of poetry, and her cozy fittings that aptly described her personality.

Like many teenagers, her room was a sanctum to just be herself, alone.

Only a handful of people managed to get passage into it, and she made sure they had Hell to pay when they did.

One person, if you could call him that, actually did preside in such a place already…

Heaving a sigh, she intercepted this morbid thought and switched back to peaceful imagery, tucking the memories of Trigon back into the Pandora's Box of her mind, where they belonged. Yet, as revenge, a migraine sprouted painfully and she caught a pained breath before leaning up against the cold, metal wall.

"Christ!" she swore under her breath, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, wiping the sweat sprouting there with a swipe.

Kicking herself, she remembered that she had left the pain medication untouched on the table in the lounge. She had been meaning to swallow the dry pills until the boys had distracted her.

Stupid Beast Boy.

A grimace implanted, she grinded her teeth, closed her eyes, tried to remedy the ache deep within her cranium.

For too long she had these painful occurrences. Every day, usually at the same time, she suffered a massive throb that seemed to split her head in two. She had told Robin about it, asked Cyborg for a good tonic of chemicals she could take, and even called on Starfire to try one of her home therapies.

Robin suggested meditating, which she was already putting into practice.

Cyborg devised a relatively successful batch of pills, the ones she had stupidly forgotten.

Starfire set her hair on fire, and made her smell like a cigar for a week.

What was I thinking? It took me weeks to get my hair back.She remembered satirically, before another ripple crashed through her psyche.

"Breathe…just breathe it out…"

Sucking in a deep gust of air through her nose and expelling it calmly out her mouth, it did ease the tension slightly.

Of course she was only a foot away from her door, but it felt like crossing the Sahara. Stumbling through the shifting entrance panels, she made it to her bed, kicking the many books on the ground out of the way. Candles illuminated as she entered, yet the room darkened when they became the only source of light.

Finally rummaging her way around, she found her plush mattress and flopped onto it, breathing in the soft scent of lavender impressed in her covers. Taking a few cycles of breath, letting the intoxicating smell numb her body with pleasantness and the few wavering lights soothe her brain, she finally had the strength to sit up.

Her old fashioned clock ticked gently, 7 pm was quickly approaching.

How long was I laying there?She pondered in surprise; it had only been 3 pm when she left the main hub.

The window, now covered by a thick curtain, testified to it, even through the cloth she could detect the thick black horizon marking night.

Shrugging apathetically, she decided to try her luck at meditating. It had been increasingly hard to do so, what with the frustrating headaches, but now they had subsided. All it had taken was four hours of weighty breathing.

Yet, when she saw the positioning of her books upon the carpet, she shook her head, unimpressed.

She raised her white, slender hands into the air and rearranged the sloppy novels back into extensive, neat stacks. Supposing it also may be a good time to tidy things up, the flowing black energy also shifted her ornaments around to fit her fancy.

Fixed, waxed candles now sat around her bed spiritually, seer stones were set in certain shelves while powders and grains remained in others, and her cloak collection was folded and placed in drawers, while the contaminated ones were flipped into a bin.

Sighing contentedly, she observed her new fittings and a smirk graced her lips.

Now, she could meditate without worrying about the status of her room, not that many people entered, but that didn't mean she couldn't keep it polished.

Crossing her legs into the familiar pose, she shifted her elbows, wrists, and fingers into the classic display. Eyes glowing white, body engulfed in a brief veil of shadow, her powers were ready to be wielded.

"Azeroth, Metrion, Zinthos," she chanted silently. "Azeroth, Metrion, Zinthos."

Her pastel eyelids closed tenderly, and in her mind's eye the world broke open for her. Carried on ebon wings, she was lifted through the stars and heavens, floating in the sparkling waters of space and time.

Each twinkling bulb reflected a person, each sparkle, an emotion. Colors of red, white, blue, pink, and anything in the spectrum reflected certain emotions, like the shades of herself within the mirror.

Usually she paid these faux-celestial objects no heed, swooping to another section of her magical universe where a lonely rock orbited around a wide, beaming moon. There she would sit and gaze or wonder, while her shell was still rooted to a bed in Jump City.

Easily, she could spend hours upon hours here, entertain her thoughts, mull things over, invent new styles of fighting, wonder what her life would come to, now that her father did not control it.

However, she noticed a strange color illuminating from a particular star. It was not orange or vermillion, and it was not gray or black, but a mix of all four. Strangely, it appeared to be a sickening copper, or perhaps an infected drop of tainted blood.

Such tinting did not exist often, and when it did, it was never a good sign. Usual emotions consisted of red for anger and hate, green for belligerence, pink for love and happiness, and so on. Yet, it seemed overwhelmingly gray and reminded her of rusted cogs in an equally intimidating machine.

Weird.

Swimming through the cosmic river of Styx, she snatched the twinkle up in her palm and peered closely at it, trying to gaze at the figure behind the spot. Yet, it oozed and swirled so thickly with shadow and disease that deciphering the person behind proved impossible.

This didn't mean she couldn't pop into his or her mind and figure it out.

It was, of course, a violation of her moral code to read the thoughts of others without their permission or knowledge. She hated those who invaded her privacy, how could she allow herself to do the same?

However, the apple was gleaming before her, picked from the forbidden tree, and even Raven wasn't immune to its sin.

Maybe just a peek…she thought, biting her lip, her eyes tracing over the many disgusting churns as they spun.

Her body that still floated in a dim room cringed, her hands clenched.

The palm that did not hold onto the bizarre light came forward, her finger reached out to it, about to connect to the intriguing source, to trace the path to a mystery.

"Raven!"

She almost screamed, caught completely off guard, her spiritual outline crashed back into her anatomy, and she fell clumsily back onto the sheets with a grunt.

"R-a-a-a-v-v-e-e-e-n-n!"

An all too familiar voice shot through the metal framework of her portal as well as a bundle of lazy thumps. Slapping her face with an irritated palm, she briskly flew off and came upon the door, flinging it open angrily.

"What?!" she snapped to Beast Boy, his fist in mid knock.

Quickly rubbing his fingers together sheepishly, he backed a step away and grinned.

"Well…um…me and…" he began, thoroughly entranced by his feet.

"No," she interrupted.

"But you didn't even know what I was gonna say!"

Crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow, waiting for a foolish explanation.

Running a hand through his hair, he smirked again.

"Me and Cyborg were wondering if you…"

"BB! Did you get Raven yet?!" the robot-child called from down the hall.

His smile widening, clearly embarrassed he turned his head blissfully for a moment and screamed back:

"Hold on, dude! Sheesh!"

She rolled her eyes and shifted onto her other leg.

"Listen Beast Boy, now really isn't the time…"

"Oh c'mon, you've been in your room all day! Come chill with us," he offered.

Keeping her cynicism intact, she gave a quiet snort.

"That's all you wanted?"

"Heh…well that and… we were wondering if you would referee a game of Stank Ball?" he asked quickly, barely breathing in between words.

Why am I not surprised?

Yet, as she opened her mouth to tell him to get lost, and that there wasn't a chance of her ever doing such a thing, he interrupted her once again.

"Pl-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-a-s-e! Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty…"

Having a change of heart, and not willing to have him screaming for her help for the next hour, for that surely would cause another irritating migraine, she heaved a groan.

"Fine."

It was all the answer he needed and he snatched onto her arm and sprinted down the lobby, giggling madly all the way up to the roof.

As they fitted her into a black and white striped cloak and set the parameters, Starfire and Robin watching jadedly, her mind was not on the embarrassment she was suffering or the stupidity coming her way, but the sickly star that had shimmered in her universe.