Summary: Ange Tombera is a Changeling, one of the growing population of people born Jan. 1st, midnight and have strange abilities because of it. She is also one of the lucky ones who managed to evade the government's grasp, and now is fighting against them. But when she is paired with Neko, a mysterious (and aggravating) young man whom she 'kidnapped' from one of the government's facilities, she finds herself wondering more and more why the Changelings are so special, and exactly what the government wants from them.

AN: By the way, if the prologue doesn't quite catch your fancy, then please, please, please read the first chapter before you totally write me off. This story is really not quite so corny as it sounds!

Warning: Just as a fair warning to all, this fic will contain a shounen-ai relationship. It's only a small part of the whole story and will be much later on, but it is important to the plot, and I think it's only fair to warn those of you that it might squick out that it will be there. Anyone who flames me later on for it will only get a polite email back saying "It's not like I didn't warn you so Nyah!' Comprendez? Bonne. On with the story!

(Working Title)

"Cursed by the moonlight, a doomed changeling
The madness a turmoil that swells up inside
To truly find peace is to truly die"
-Earth Iced, "Wolf"


She could have said that she was one with the night; that it embraced her like a lover who has been away far too long. She could have said that it was her friend, that she preferred its company to all others. That darkness called to her like a wolf's howl to the moon, yearning for her company to banish its lonely solitude. Or to perhaps share its isolation with her. She could have said she was a child of midnight, and only in its arms did she feel safe.

Of course, it would all be completely untrue, not to mention corny as all get up.

Ange Tombera was not the corny type. She had no appreciation for poetry; she did not care for musings under the fluffy cloud-filled sky. If someone ever dared to accuse her of sentimentality, they would as like as not find themselves on the floor, tasting leather and rubber as they tried to pull their own shoe out of their mouth.

Ange didn't think about the night in such a lyrical sense. To her, it was a tool; something to hide in while going about her job. It certainly did not hold safety for her, for it was in the night that she had to be most careful.

She was not an assassin, whatever some might have thought. She didn't kill for money. In fact, she didn't even often kill, though many times she came back bloody to the safe house she and others like her lived in. Her job was Information Seeker, and if sometimes information was to be found within a person, or through a person, well, at least she was well prepared to deal with it. One could have called her cold hearted, but it wasn't true. She simply did what she had to for her mission. That was the important thing. She didn't fight for money, she fought for an ideal. One she probably wouldn't live to see the end of, but that was the way the world turned, wasn't it?

Because Ange was a Changeling, one of those cursed few to have been born on a January 1st at exactly 12:00 am. She had been born with fey marks scarring her body, slashes of color like an amateur artist gone wild on a flesh canvas, and a mind with a gift to see into the future. For this crime, she had been shunned by everyone around her. Feared. Demonized. Ostracized.

By the year 2000, the Government had begun to take an interest in the others of her kind, begun to harvest them for study. She was one of the fortunate ones; though she was born during the sudden rash of Changelings following the millennium, her mother had had enough love for her child or enough hate for her government to set her baby on the streets rather than relinquish it. From there, she had been found by someone else. By someone like her.

That Changeling, she had long ago forgotten his name, had showed her that there were others like them, and that they had to band together. She had been there to see the beginnings of The Crew take shape, and had watched as slowly their numbers grew, as more of their kind were found or recovered from the governments that sought to use their gifts. Their aim was a simple one: to be left alone. But to have that in the future, she and the others in The Crew had to fight, and fight dirty sometimes. That was her job, and she was willing to do it, even if it meant keeping darkness as her constant companion.

Maybe she was a child of midnight, but you would never hear her say it.


As I am writing chapters as I go, updates will probably be random (which isn't to say rare!) If anyone would like to know when I have updated, then please review and leave your name and email and I'll send you a note when a new chapter is up!

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