But no need to worry about all that, “Kid Q” said sitting next to them on the bed and reaching a hand out to touch her cheek.

My Name was Quinton Queenan.. But that was along time ago..”

Q said with a soft sigh

1980s and when I hit 17 I was diagnosed with a terminal cancer then I met Her, Miss Q, the woman who bullied her husband into giving me the power of The Q. making me a member of the continuum, Before the name kid Q came along

Kid Q raised a green eye brow,

“ my eyes? Change? I didn’t know they did, usually they just spin or rather slowly spiral outward like any other galaxy. They weren’t always this way ya know. I used to be human, I was born in San Francisco about 500 years ago in the

but now they were contacting and flaring and dancing in ways quite unnatural for stars.

He winks, all cheeky and full of shenanigans, but there’s something deep real deep as the small galaxy’s in each of his eyes began to twirl and rearrange them selves in ways Rayne had never seen them do, usually the small galaxies in each of Kid Q’s eyes spun and spiraled like all other galaxies

So, deservin’? Pffft. I ain’t one for deserve or don’t. I just know what I viddy, and I viddy you, and that’s why you get the Kid Q special, yeah? Every raz, every tick-tock of the old chas. Ain’t that just a horrorshow thought?”

givin’ the old yahama. That’s why I give ya the tolchocks of the slovos, why I nudge and poke—ain’t no fun if it’s all easy-peasy, right?

are ya? Nah, you got fire, real razdraz, makes a malchick like me take notice, makes me want to govoreet and rassoodock instead of just

ptitsas—same ol’ vonny cheena, all giggles and gloopy games. But you, oh you, my fine devotchka, you ain’t the same,

lapse.
No harm in a jest, a cheeky display,
Just a malenky fun, what do you say?”

No malchick zaps at Kid Q's heart, With phasers aimed to make me smart. Retribution's dance is due, Now let's see what these Daleks do.”

Lookin' 'round in awe, takin' it all in,
But *I’m* the real storm—you just *break* it, friend.
So puff that chest, stand proud and tall,
But remember—it's *me* who’ll make you fall!"

You’re a *magic axe?* Well, ain’t that cute,
Bet you swing hard... but I *cut deeper,* to boot!
Six-foot-five? Congrats, you’re tall and grand,
But size ain’t much when chaos is at *hand.*

get outta hand?
Either way, I'm here for kicks and to jest,
'Cause chaos, my friend... is what I do *best.*"

*Grins, leans on a console—definitely not supposed to be touched.*
"Now... whatcha gonna do 'bout *me* bein’ here, huh?"

Now don’t get jumpy, no need to shout,
Just figured I’d swing by, *ruffle about.*
You called me *Loki?* Cute—I'll let it slide,
But my tricks, dear Marq, got more *bite* than pride!

So whatcha buildin’? Somethin’ grand?
Or just pressin' buttons 'til things