Question Ping Out!

Uhm, are those numbers with a single letter between a lot of pluses supposed to be something? A good alarm clock is designed to make sure you wake up, this one must be really good.

The alarm clock had been programmed to be as loud and difficult to ignore as possible. Dad had been rather proud of his work there.

Ouch, that is somewhat cruel. So Les Wainwright lives near Portland, Power Salvo is an interesting superhero name. Lester, no wonder he goes by Les, that is a rough name to deal with.

The two of them were an odd pair. He was full-on Irish, with ginger hair and green eyes. She was second-generation Chinese. Les took after his mother, mostly. Only his nose was really his dad's.

Now that gives a clearer picture of Les. Clarissa, his 10-year-old little sister with freckles, what a brat to kick him in the shin for no reason.

He and his friends play an MMO called Shadowzone with a new expansion coming out that night, sounds like fun.

Les, Jake, Rick, and William, the four musketeers of Laurence Pell Junior-Senior High's eighth grade class. Or at least, so they liked to pretend.

Better to be confident among friends than shy among strangers.

Mr. Malkin sounds like the kind of teacher whose voice can put his whole class to sleep. Ugh, singling a student out because they are glancing at a friend's notebook, despite the fact other students are probably doing worse. And Cameron not getting in trouble for doodling and snickering along with everyone else at Les, some friend.

At least Cameron feels guilty about his part in getting Les singled out. Asking to hang out like they used to, always hard for the kid who moves away and comes back. New hardware to show off and hang out tomorrow, why do I get the feeling something more than just going away and coming back is involved with how Cameron is acting.

An arena-style shooter with an alien horror style combined with a cool sci-fi aesthetic, that would actually get me to play an arena-style shooter. Staying up past bedtime to play a game, now that I can relate to all too well.

Huh, a repeat of the first scene word for word, guess his mornings start off the same. Shower this time, noting his jet black hair with a blue sheen which matches the black irises of his eyes, interesting.

And the same shower scene, but this time his hair has a reddish sheen visible in the light and his eyes have teal-brown irises. Weird.

And once more the same shower scene, this time he notes the water feels nice and combs his hair until it is just right. Now his hair is mostly red like his father's but a bit of his Mom's texture and shine. Red eyebrows and green irises in his eyes. This is getting a little confusing.

It is the same class scene including the same words by Mr. Malkin, this time Les not having to pinch himself to keep awake due to the strong smell of all the students. This time Les is caught he finds the line immediately and reads it without trouble, a wink and thumb's up from Cameron this time when Mr. Malkin's back is turned. Okay, are we seeing multiple possible timelines of the same character or what?

At home his mom asks how school was, having fried rice for dinner, the recipe learned from Grandpa Wen and his guys at the Chinese buffet downtown. *tries to dive through the screen and take some fried rice* Mom asking about if the jocks are bullying him, how things are going with his friends, Les is at that age where asking about his life is seen as nosy instead of interested or concerned. Hehe, I like his mom, knew what he was thinking from her own experiences in high school.

Oh crud, I think I know what is going on now. Cameron is a devisor and made a devise, every time Les goes to see him it bounces him back to the previous day's morning without any memories of what happened.

And once again into the seeming loop, at Les starts what seems the same morning once again.

*eyes bug out* Leslie, oh crud, reality has changed and inherited his name from his grandfather, now has to hear lesbian jokes, good grief. This time he takes after his mother, expect his eyes and hair are like his father. Avoids Clarrisa's boot and goes to take a shower, this is getting hard to keep straight.

And the same scene with Les, Jake, Rick, and William talking about their MMO getting an expansion. Then waiting to leave to avoid the jocks. Cameron comes to talk to his, but this time not for helping get him in trouble with Mr. Malkin.

"Okay, sounds great." The two of them had always shared an interest in electronics, old and new. They'd even collaborated on their winning fifth-grade science project. "Tomorrow afternoon, then?"

Shared interest in electronics, old and now, plus collaborating on their winning fifth-grade science project, those are new. Just what does Cameron's devise do to cause these changes to the timeline? Or could it be something else, not a devise by Cameron but a threat that Les is rewinding time to survive and a side-effect is alterations to the timeline that build up each time?

Shadowzone this time and he finds the level set-up average, able to find goodies left and right in spots which are obvious to him. That is definitely different than before. Able to beat the first big boss without a sweat, now that is very different from the original run we saw.

bing-bong ba-dee ba-dong-- The six jingly notes led off the semi-random melody that heralded the end of Les's slumber. The alarm clock had been programmed so that it was not too loud, not too soft, and not so predictable that it lulled the brain back to sleep. Dad had been rather proud of his work there.

Okay, another change to the timeline. And Les is a morning person who beat Clarissa to the bathroom, the water feeling really nice in the shower, and wraps one towel around his head and one around his body. These are a lot of changes in behavior for Les and seeming to be going in one direction. Posing in front of the anti-fog mirror, thinking about the poster in his room, oh boy.

*eyes bug out* I knew this was coming, with all the changes in behavior and such, but Les is now truly Leslie and a girl. And embarrassed about having a small chest like her mother, wishing she had inherited something from Grandma Katie. Aww, a better relationship with her little sister at least, walking her to school.

Mr. Malkin's class once more, Leslie doesn't like the smell, called out by Mr. Malkin, and starts reading through the end of the next page before he can even ask her to. Cameron sending a wink and thumb's up and Les winking back has a much different meaning now, at least to me.

The numbers with it seem to indicate the timeline and iteration of it, at least I think that is what they are. Dinner again and Les actually went last summer to learn the ropes with Grandpa Wen and the guys at the Chinese buffet, looking forward to doing it again this year, another change to the timeline.

"It was school," she said. "It's just... so boring these days. I feel like I already know all the stuff they're teaching in class, but they won't move on to the good stuff!"

Could she be subconsciously recalling all the times she has lived this same day and class?

Teasing about going crazy over boys. Jacqueline, Wendy, and Rita, great, they've been turned into girls by the timeline changes as well but Cameron is untouched. And she can't think of Cameron as more than a friend. Uh oh, that seems ominous like it will change.

This time Les is thinking about messing with the clock her father made, also about how her father doesn't like her messing with his tech without asking. Rocket Rose, so even the superhero from nearby Portland has been turned female by whatever is altering the timelines.

Thankfully, there was no one there for Les to flash but herself, though once again she grumbled at the genes she'd inherited from Grandma Katie. They'd kicked in over the last few months, and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Already she was almost a cup size bigger than Mom, and that entire stereotype about Asian chestiness was blown out of the water by her burgeoning artillery. The bath towel could barely cover it all.

Yikes, be careful what you wish for, another timeline change.

Walks Clarissa to school again, same teasing routine as before.

Leslie, Jacqueline, Rita, and Wendy, the four Amazon princesses of Laurence Pell Junior-Senior High's eighth grade class. Or at least, so they liked to pretend.

At least they still play Shadowzone together.

"Do you ever get the feeling there's something off about the world?" she asked Clarissa as they returned home from school. Her sister's elementary was right next door to Laurence Pell Junior/Senior High, and it was a leisurely stroll when one had company.

"Is this one of those teen things?" Clarissa asked. "Like the boobs and the boy-craziness?"

That earned the twerp a thunk on the head. "Not like that. More like... you know what déjà vu means, right? Well, it's like today was one huge string of déjà vu moments. No surprises. Like, at all. All my classes were perfectly predictable, down to the questions on my math quiz. It's driving me nuts -- short trip!" she shouted just as Clarissa opened her mouth.

How many more times will Leslie have to go through before she can stop whatever is causing it?

"I couldn't find my favorite blue shirt, so I put my red one out on the chair. Then I went to dig up a bra, and when I turned around, the blue shirt was there and the red was nowhere to be seen!"

And she is noticing the changes now, good, all the better to stop them before it is too late. And still thinks of Cameron as nothing more than a friend. And Les is still loyal to her friends no matter what, guess some things you can't change.

A red rose and asking her to go to a movie with him, I'm going back to my original theory, Cameron has a devise which is altering the timeline, first to get his friend back then realizes he could get a girlfriend with the right changes and is taking things way, way too far. Cameron shot down big-time, Les has game night with the girls and might have to babysit Clarissa tomorrow.

And this time Leslie finds the Shadowzone expansion so easy she could laugh, oh boy, mental augmentation due to the timeline changes.

The only positive lay in the new weapons designs, which had been pretty interesting. She grabbed a notebook to scribble down some ideas. The actual blasters from the game were impossible of course -- they were only bits of code, after all -- but maybe...

Oh boy, sounds like she is a devisor herself now, or on the way to being one. Paint, draw, write, or build stuff, those are definitely new interest or so it seems. No starting new projects late at night, good rule.

Once more in Mr. Malkin's classroom, Les messed with the AC controls before class and now it is a little too cool in the school, so maybe gadgeteer or gadgeteer/devisor.

Her notebook was out, but there were no notes to be seen. Instead, she'd filled page after page with diagrams of robots and laser cannons. It was far more interesting than the lecture.

Definitely a gadgeteer at least. Called out by Mr. Malkin and recites the text from memory, having read the whole until while he was talking roll. Now that is an ability I would love to have, speed reading and memory like that.

Clarissa teased about Cameron being her boyfriend again, still can't think of him as more than a friend. And Cameron pulls this kind of stunt at least once a week to ask her out, oh brother. A dozen roses this time, *sigh* And Cameron screwed up by doing the same thing, asked out at least a hundred times, yet this is a new wrinkle in their relationship so not enough for even close to that.

"Can't believe I'm gonna have to reset the damn thing again."

"Wait, what was that you said?"

"... knew I shouldn't have left it automated for so long..." Cameron mumbled on a moment longer before he realized that he was being followed, past the sand box and the slides.

"Excuse me!" she yelled. "What do you mean, reset?"

"Um, just talking to myself. Thinking about, um, the new hardware I just got in the mail. I was, um, gonna ask if you wanted to come by and see it tomorrow?"

I knew it! The little creep, rewriting the timeline like this over and over until he gets the results he wants, this is seriously dangerous.

"Today? Today?" For some reason, Cameron seemed to think this was terribly funny. "Today doesn't really exist, anymore than it did the time before this, or the time before that. Ha ha, I can't even, um, call it yesterday, 'cause all we've got is now. And you, um, you turn me down every now, no matter what."

"Okay, you're not making any sense here..."

"No. Er, I guess I'm not. Doesn't matter. You won't remember this now for much longer. Virt-Sys Access Camdon!" he shouted. "Stop the world, I want to get off! Hard reboot!"

And the world seemed to stretch into oblivion....

Virt-Sys, he has Vic trapped in a high-tech virtual simulation! This is very bad, especially if it is affecting Les' body and mind in the real world.

Everything the same as before but completely different, except everyone and everything except for Les is frozen, please let this be a virtual simulation otherwise Cameron just broke the world. How can Les get the world moving again?

Saturday, May 16th, 2015 - 7:30 PM

Cameron Donner lowering a VR helmet from his head, thank you that it is a VR sim. And it is a machine from someone called Yanos, machine not working how it should be, guessing the stress of the sim triggered Les' metagene complex to activate. An error log, I hope they don't figure it out and Les escapes, Cameron is a real creep to do this to someone who calls him a friend.

All he'd wanted was a sample, a bit of DNA that he could use in the template Yanos was helping him make. But the machine had a mind of its own sometimes, and then it was done and the cycles had started. Yanos had told him it was all for the best, that Les had the optimal combination of starting traits for what he wanted, and in any case, his friend wouldn't remember anyway....

Okay, this is even sicker than I thought, trying to make a female clone of Les to be his girlfriend. And federal agents show up to arrest Cameron, good, idiot has it coming for doing this to a friend.

Les freaking out in the frozen world of the VR, wondering what Cameron had done to the world, her, and Clarissa. Oh, no one messes with her little sister, Cameron better feel lucky she is trapped in VR or he would be a dead man. And she called a new weapon from the Shadowzone expansion into being, fully functional, she hacked the VR with her mind, dang. And she is able to hack the VR to summon anything she can think of, whoa.

And she got Virt-Sys Access as a user, Cameron is so screwed. 7 days and almost 9 hours trapped in that VR sim, no wonder the feds came for Cameron, abduction, and assault, probably a number of other charges. And she uses the same command that Cameron did and the world starts to fade out, ouch, having her little sister fade out in her hands like that is going to traumatize her. And I bet the stupid machine that was supposed to get a DNA sample decided to simply alter Les physically as being more efficient.

9:46 PM and Cameron is being cuffed by the feds and asked where Lester Wainwright is, oh boy. The pod melted away and Leslie Wainwright is born into the world, great, he really screwed over Lester with this.

ARC, Cascades Research Park, Oregon

--- Sunday, May 17th, 2015 9:30 AM

Dr. Francis Polk watching through the glass of an observation room, thinking there is not enough time in the world as he hasn't slept in 30 hours at this point, ouch. And it is Leslie in the observation room, and she is talking to the site psychologist which had begun before dawn. At least she is doing well, despite all that has happened.

"No." He sipped his coffee-flavored sludge. "The conventional hardware components are all fried, and the other sort are currently sloshing around in a bucket on level three. The only piece still intact is unfortunately fixed to the back of Ms. Wainwright's skull, which limits our options. How goes the paper trail?"

Oh boy, a piece stuck to the back of her skull, that isn't good. And no way to easily track the paper trail of where the devise came from, sent by UPDS, the United Powers Delivery Service, interesting.

They are going to send Cameron to a juvenile detention facility in Montana, mostly underage minions of science-minded villains, good. Cameron deserves it after what he pulled. And now Dr. Polk has to go talk to the family, going from having a son to having a daughter who thinks this is how its always been is going to be rough.

Oh boy, Ian Wainwright is angry, stating Leslie isn't his son, this is going to be all kinds of awkward. And now Dr. Polk has to tell them what we already know, Lester is now Leslie and thinks it has always been that way. Lyn, Les' mother, ask if there is a way to reverse the process, *sigh*, even if they could the physical I don't know how they could the mental part. No way to and even if they could, they wouldn't for many reasons. Cameron screwed up all their lives.

Testing for mutation since she is an active mutant now.

"Not with me, personally, but..." The father brushed his hair back nervously. "When I said impossible, I meant exactly that. My office went through NMT-3000 certification two years ago... Oh, don't give me that look," he snapped. "You and I both know it's about as useless as 'gluten-free' advertising on bags of potato chips, but that's marketing for you. And you should already know what it takes to get the certification, right?"

Okay, this sounds silly and paranoid.

I take it you had your entire family screened for the meta-gene complex then?" That had to be the requirement that Mr. Wainwright was alluding to. NMT-3000 would not allow for even potential mutants to come in contact with the company work. At the most, they might have a smattering of the identified genetic markers, but only because otherwise too many bigots would fail the test.

And yup, just as silly and paranoid to test for these things as I thought it would be.

And now Ian has to tell his boss about this before they go home, losing a job for having a mutant in the family, that is just moronic. At least they are getting help, I hope meeting the family goes well, especially with Clarissa. And now they need to investigate further how Les manifested without being a carrier of the meta-gene complex.

Clarissa annoyed because it is Sunday morning and she likes to sleep in. Seeing Les and being hugged so tight, Les not knowing what happened after the world froze and everything faded out. Clarissa wondering who this strange girl is until she hears Dr. Polk talking to her parents.

"Let go before you crush my spleen, you dweeb!"

Perfect bratty little sister line. And still can't believe this girl can be her big brother.

No way to deny it when they are all in front of a bathroom mirror, seeing Leslie's resemblance to her mom and Clarissa. Dad went home, yet Clarissa forced to stay with her mom while Leslie is given physical fitness testing. Yup, sounds like the basic mutant physical testing. Poor Clarissa, brain-melting because of how lady-like Leslie is. Same appetite and table manners as Lester, even back for fourths in the cafeteria, yikes.

Fails all the power testing in 5 minutes until put into a big room with a lot of electronics junk, it has been 3 hours according to Clarissa. Mutant High series marathon, figures there is a show like that. Les calling out to Clarissa and freaking her out how she does it, that VR sim and Cameron completely rewrote her personality except for a few things.

It was sort of tear-drop shaped, with a tapered point that curved up to a clasp for a chain or necklace. There was a bluish crystal framed in the center like a dragon's eye, and the entire thing could fit in the palm of her hands. "This is for you!"

"Er, thanks. Um, what is it?" No way she was touching it until she knew.

"It's an MP3 player. You were wanting a new one for your birthday this summer, right?"

And a holographic display, can a gadgeteer create such a thing? *eyes bug out as Les tells Clarissa all the functions it has* Now that is a tricked out MP3 player. And powered by body heat and kinetic motion from walking, I really want to know if that is a devise or gadget.

Having to take anything even slightly work-related from his home to his former place to work to return, and the security guard smirked at him, Ian is right, that guy is a jerk. Gadgeteer and a couple of other abbreviations on the list, both starting with E, guessing Exampler and Energizer with how she much she ate. And because Les is a Gadgeteer he loses his job at Puritech Solutions, Inc.

And shows up home to his wife and daughters, Leslie in the kitchen, same expression as her and pose her mom has when cooking. Leaving him wondering when Leslie learned to cook. They are all going to have a lot of adjusting to do.

Lyn thinking about culture shock, how it is the little stuff that trips you up, the little differences that crop up where you feel most comfortable. Almost the whole day to come to grips with the basic facts of Les' transformation, avoids crying when Leslie took over the kitchen when they got home. Until Leslie saw 'her' room, she thinks Power Salvo is a poser, nothing is right, oh boy. A drawing of valkyrie Brunhilde which Les never finished, Cameron deserves whatever happens to him. Lyn hugs Leslie to comfort her, being thrust into a strange, new world can be terrifying.

Monday, May 18th, 2015 6:25 AM

Clarissa use to waking up 5 minutes before Les' alarm clock goes off. Only to hear the alarm clock turned off mid-WEE and the sound of it being thrown against the wall, then being beat to the bathroom by Leslie who thinks it is a race. A lot of new things to get used to.

Clarissa jealous of Leslie's looks, heh. Oh boy, the part about walking Clarissa to school, knew this was coming but didn't know how painful it would be for Leslie to find out the truth. At least Clarissa plays along, even if they have to lie about who Leslie is to anyone they meet.

11 am and Ian having to explain to his soon to be ex-boss the situation. Mr. Maxwell Devlin is the CEO of Puritech Solutions, he understands this isn't anyone Ian could have planned for, plus he has his job at least until August, nice man. Even gives him the day off to spend with his family to get things in order, nice to see he isn't a bigot who would fire Ian for having a mutant daughter now on the spot.

Back at home, 1 PM and Lyn is happy to see Les has the same appetite as before, scarfing down food court pizza slice after slice. Yikes, had to practically drag New Les out of a clothing store. Her own child a stranger to her now, another reason I wish to see Cameron suffer. Went to the school without going in, had a couple of guys flirt with her, yet she doesn't realize her 'friends' from the VR sim don't exist in the real world, not remembering their male selves.

The Donner boy had an end-goal in mind when he set up the devise, even if he claimed Les's involvement was accidental. And if the thing was going to produce the perfect girlfriend, it wouldn't do to have her be attached to anyone else in her memories. So all of Lester's friends turned into Leslie's girl-friends, and the high school hunks kept their distance, just so Les would think no one would ever want to date her.

Oh Lord, was the girl going to be in for a surprise.

That is an understatement if the guys just flirting with her shocks her what some of the guys at Whateley try and pull will leave her traumatized.

6 PM and Clarissa finishing up her math homework, wondering if she should ask Leslie for help or not to avoid more weird situations. Great, non-stop questions for Clarissa about Leslie all day, even from the school next door through younger brothers and sisters, no wonder she is annoyed. Out to eat at the Hong Kong Buffet and to see their Grandpa, nice dinner and seeing family. At least Mom warned their Grandpa about Leslie. And Leslie can speak more than the Chinese greeting, another bit of weirdness for Clarissa to be annoyed at.

And Grandpa says her face could be a mirror of her mother's at that age, whoa. Put her experience in the VR and make it true by having her work at the buffet and learn Mandarin as well, could help her adjust. Dang, wish I could go out for Chinese food that often.

Friday, May 22nd, 2015

Jiang Wen, now that is an awesome name. Immigrated to the U.S.A. in his youth, seeing many strange and wonderful things since then. Lyn actually insisted on helping out in the kitchen at the age of 5, she was destined to be a cook. Clarissa said her first words and took her first steps within the same week, thinking of Lester, who always tried to build or draw but lacked the patience to finish anything, ow.

Now watching Leslie in a form-fitting blue China dress, completely at ease and serene when dealing with customers, the world can be strange and wonderful sometimes. Goddess Guanyin, interesting. Forgot to use the buttons again, she can work the machine without touching it, okay, guessing one of the E ratings was Esper for a technopath, or can some Gadgeteers control machines by thought?

And break time, Grandpa insisting she actually rest for once, just how much energy does she have?

Leslie had all of Lester's cleverness and imagination, with the addition of a good deal more focus and energy to back it up. So far this week, she'd rewired the old refrigerator in back, increased the power of the microwave oven, and built her grandfather a new computer out of spare parts that his son-in-law had provided. Then she taught herself how to use the restaurant's accounting software, and organized the recipe database while she was at it.

Whoa, now I want to know her exact power ratings, that is impressive.

Grandpa Wen understood that none of this was normal, but where others might react with fear and hatred, he merely rejoiced in the strange and wonderful experiences that life had to offer. Such was this world. Such was this time. Only a fool would not appreciate the beauty of miracles.

If only more people had that mindset instead of fearing what is different.

Saturday, May 23rd, 2015

Harry Treatner, a thoroughly average guy at Laurence Pell Junior / Senior High by his own estimations. Good grief, it is like he is afraid to excel and stand out in any way. Danny, Trey, and Patrick talking about Leslie after eating at the Hong Kong Buffet that week, people trying to learn more about her, oh brother. And they think she is related to Lester, Harry thinking of him as a dork who went missing 2 weeks ago, ugh.

Creeps going to the Buffet just to ogle Leslie or try to ask her out while she is working, obnoxious. Oh brother, he goes with that pickup line, he is an idiot. And he gives her his number after she shots him down when he asked for hers.

"The hook is baited and the fish is nibbling. Just a little time, and I'll reel it in," he said with a smirk. Leslie was interested; he could tell as much. This would give him something to look forward to the run-up to finals week.

Oh brother, this guy needs to be knocked down a few pegs.

Friday, May 29th, 2015

D'oh! Leslie actually texted him that first night, this is bad. And up into the early hours almost every night this week texting, extremely bad, warning, danger, Leslie, danger!

Saturday, May 30th, 2015

Granpa Wen agrees to let Leslie take her break outside, but sent Johnny Tsao, the heavyset cook, out to watch over Leslie. He trusts his granddaughter, just the rest of the world he treats with suspicion, wise man.

Harry Treatner there waiting for her, thinking of Leslie as his exotic little fish he has on the line, sickening.

Damn, how he'd wished for a girlfriend like this in the past. Smart, sweet, stacked, and yet so innocent. Life was just weird like this. It gave you what you wanted, but at the worst possible times.

Don't tell me the little creep is already dating another girl. And he leads her into a trap with Wyatt Devlin and a half-dozen of his friends, you are all going to regret this.

Wyatt calling her a freaky fish, I wish to claw his eyes out now. Someone leaked the information about who Leslie was!

"Wise up, bro." Wyatt's voice matched the sneer on his lips. "Got the info straight from my dad, who got it straight from his dad." The young man stabbed a finger at Leslie to emphasize the pronoun. "That's Lester Wainwright, not-so-disappeared after all, so shake that freak off your arm, Harry. He wants to play a girl, then we teach him how girls get treated."

These twisted psycho are planning to gang rape her!

At least Harry has wised up and decides to defy these creeps, and now they think Leslie is mind-controlling him so they have to beat some sense back into Harry, a bunch of morons as well. Beating him up and breaking his bones in the process, then the music starts.

It was the weirdest combination of bleeps, bloops, and Top 40 tunes, and the only reason he even noticed it at first was because the beatdown stopped for it. Part of this oddball orchestra was coming from his own hip pocket, accompanied by the various devices everyone was now pulling out. He could barely make out the words that came next, and only because each phone produced the exact same phrases:

Leslie used their phones to call 911, yay!

A detailed description of the attackers and their names, no way to just run from this now. Mitch Thompson destroyed his phone to stop the call, if all the other phones are intact that won't help, idiot. And Leslie ran for it while they were beating up Harry, Harry passes out but not before seeing Leslie return with a police officer and Johnny Tsao, these creeps are all in serious trouble.

Saturday, June 7th, 2015

Poor Leslie staring at her phone, waiting for Harry to call her. A week since Harry was sent to the hospital, no calls, not allowed to visit by the staff, poor girl.

Maybe they hadn't given him his phone back yet. Maybe his dad had forbidden him from contact. Mr. Treatner was none too happy that his son got beaten half to death in defense of a mutant.

Great, father is anti-mutant from the sounds of it.

Ouch, Leslie crying as she thinks maybe Harry doesn't want to see her again.

Everyone wanted her to be something else. The annoying big brother, the dutiful son, the loser dork, the victim, the mutant menace, something, anything. She couldn't even count on her own friends because they didn't exist anywhere except in her memory. The only person willing to take her on her own terms, on her own memories, was Grandpa Wen, who seemed to accept each day as it came, and her as well. Grandpa -- and maybe Harry too. Whatever the original reason for asking her out, he'd treated her like the girl she was, not like some weird thing that couldn't fit in.

Dang, to be thinking all this, Leslie has it a lot rougher than she has been letting on.

-peep- Her phone buzzed into life for just a second. She closed her eyes, reading the message as it arrived in a burst of data: "Hi, Leslie. I'm doing okay. Surgery's over. Doctors say I'll be in therapy for a few months. Miss our chats. Harry."

Glad that Harry is going to get better, but man those guys did a real number on him, I hope the judge throws the books at them all. Texting back and forth for a while, with good news for Harry.

She told him that Grandpa Wen promised him a free lunch anytime he might stop by, and how Wyatt and his buddies were the centerpiece of a big display explaining exactly why they were banned from the premises for life. Any other punishment would have to wait until the courts did their thing. Since a mutant was involved, that could take a while.

*sigh* I hope justice happens for Harry.

Family photos, looking at all the memories that fit except for Lester being there instead of Leslie, now that is pain. Leslie is able to alter digital pictures with her mind, cool.

"I reject your reality, and substitute my own," she whispered, a challenge to the world.

At least she is starting to deal with this whole mess, on her own terms.

This was a great story from start to finish, at first I was confused by the repeating scenes and changes each time, thinking some machine that rewinds time to the morning of the previous day was involved or other strangeness. The clues about Les going to become Leslie in the VR world built up over time and were perfect. Finding out Les was in a devise-based VR machine and what Cameron had done and planned, I can't believe someone would be that stupid as to risk using a devise they know nothing about and bought from someone, but I guess a desperate teenager who is mentally unhinged would.

The family meeting Leslie after she is out the VR, that was eye-opening as you can see the pain Cameron has done to them all with how he changed Les into Leslie, even if that wasn't his original goal. Leslie having to adjust to a world with details that don't match what she remembers, her parents and little sister having to adjust to how drastically Leslie has changed from the Les they knew.

Grandpa Wen has the kind of mindset I wish more people would, just go with the wonder and not see different things as stuff to fear and hate. I don't like that Harry manipulated Leslie, but he did the right thing when it counted and payed for that hard lesson. I hope he and Leslie have a chance together. I can't wait to read more of how Leslie and her family adjust to all the changes in their lives.

it1: "Playing Shadowzone with the guys. If you want, I could get you in on our team session." The others probably wouldn't like it, but he'd get them to agree.
...
The two of them used to make things from erector sets and old electronics when they were younger. This could be fun.

it37: "Hey yourself. We're having a game night tonight. Want to join in? It's the new expansion for Shadowzone." Les made the same sort of offer every week, but Cameron always turned him down.

it66: Mostly, she was thinking about what Mom had said about Cameron. As a friend, there was no denying his good points. As a boyfriend... She shook her head. No way.

it125: Les held back a groan. Cameron was waiting near the playground on the corner from their house, standing in the most non-nonchalant manner possible. This sort of thing happened at least once a week, and she dreaded what was going to come next. As a friend, there was no denying his good points, but as a boyfriend... No way.
...
"I'm sorry, I already made plans with the girls for tonight," she said, happy for the handy excuse. "It's our regular game night, y'know, just us Amazons? But I could get you in on a team session with us, maybe?" Jacqueline would hate it, but Les could talk her around. "We're trying the new expansion for Shadowzone."

it199: "Oh, look. There's your boooooooyfrieeeeeeeeend..."

Les held back a groan. Cameron was waiting near the playground on the corner from their house, standing in the most non-nonchalant manner possible. This sort of thing happened at least once a week, and she dreaded what was going to come next. As a friend, there was no denying his good points, but as a boyfriend... No way.
...
"I'm sorry, I already made plans with the girls for tonight," she said, not actually sorry in the least. While she could give him points for persistence, Cameron was just being a pest now. How many times had she turned him down by this point? Her brain skipped a beat, then drew a blank.

--WEE-ORRR-- The foghorn bellow of the alarm clock rattled the house, or at least the corner of it belonging to Les Wainwright. It forced its way in through the ears and then refused to leave, echoing back and forth inside his skull. The alarm clock had been programmed to be as loud and difficult to ignore as possible. Dad had been rather proud of his work there. With a groan, he pulled himself out from under the covers and stared at the ceiling. The pin-up poster of Power Salvo, a superhero from nearby Portland, stared back.

I need one for my little brother. Little ducker wouuld never wake up until lunch if he had his way
.

"You should get dressed first," Mom chided as she handed him seconds. At the other end of the table, Dad nodded in agreement. The two of them were an odd pair. He was full-on Irish, with ginger hair and green eyes. She was second-generation Chinese. Les took after his mother, mostly. Only his nose was really his dad's.

So... A nose looking like you had too much alcohol too many times?

"Move over!" And then there was Clarissa, the ten-year-old bane of his existence. She looked like Mom too, almost a perfect copy except for the freckles. The little twerp was already dressed, and she kicked him in the shins with her boots when he didn't get out of the way fast enough. "Quit hogging the pancakes!"

God, he hated morning people.

First, I may have doubts but pretty sure it would be worst with three brothers. Never got to see how much of an handle a little sis can be.
Second? We rule the morning, dude. Bend to your knee.
PS: Could be worst for the name. You could be called Adolph. I remember, someone made a comedy on that idea.

"Everyone ready for the new Shadowzone expansion rollout tonight?" his best friend Jake was asking. Everyone nodded. Friday night was online game night with this crew, and they'd been looking forward to this expansion for months. Les, Jake, Rick, and William, the four musketeers of Laurence Pell Junior-Senior High's eighth grade class. Or at least, so they liked to pretend.

And now I've got to ask, how much are DLCs, microtransactions, lootboxes and all this merry polluting the video games scene in the Whateleyverse?

He scrambled to his feet and blundered a bit before he found the right place to start. Everyone else snickered, including Cameron, the jerk. Somehow the kid had anti-teacher defenses like Teflon.

It's never the others, dude, so always stay focused on the teacher.

"Well, um, I still feel bad. I was wondering if we could, y'know, hang out sometime? The way we used to?" He and Les had been in the same group of friends up till the end of fifth grade. Then Cameron moved to a different school for a year, and when he returned, the whole dynamic had changed. Even Jake and Rick thought Cameron was too much of a spaz now. "Um, whatcha doing tonight?"

Dunno, on one level it always suck when friends drift away. On the other... Hindiisght is there, if you catch my drift.

Now that had been a good game, Les thought as he powered down his computer for the night. Shadowzone was an arena-style shooter that had an alien horror style combined with a cool sci-fi aesthetic. The expansion was set in an abandoned city full of weird architecture, and between the exploration and the team versus mode, there was a lot to do. He and the guys had barely touched on a lot of the cool stuff tonight.

One question. Are the alien zombies a thing? It could make or break that game, you know?

--WEE-ORRR-- The foghorn bellow of the alarm clock rattled the house, or at least the corner of it belonging to Les Wainwright. It forced its way in through the ears and then refused to leave, echoing back and forth inside his skull. The alarm clock had been programmed to be as loud and difficult to ignore as possible. Dad had been rather proud of his work there. With a groan, he pulled himself out from under the covers and stared at the ceiling. The pin-up poster of Power Salvo, a superhero from nearby Portland, stared back.

One more day in paradise?

++++++1505080705it5++++++

He was in and out of the shower as fast as was allowed by parental approval, and quickly combed his hair into a semblance of order. It was very much his mom's hair, jet black with a sort of blue sheen in the light. It matched the black irises of his eyes.

++++++1505080705it7++++++

He was in and out of the shower as fast as was allowed by parental approval, and quickly combed his hair into a well-ordered part. It was mostly his mom's hair, but with a bit of Dad's legacy to be seen in there. A reddish sheen was visible in the light. Beneath it all, his tea-brown irises completed the average rating for his face.

++++++1505080705it9++++++

He was in and out of the shower after a few minutes. The water felt nice today. Then he took his time combing his hair until it was just right. It was mostly his dad's hair, but with a bit of Mom's legacy to be seen in there, especially in the texture and shine. Under matching red eyebrows, a pair of green irises twinkled back at him.

Or not. I swear, on my first read, the one thing I could think about was Twilight Zone

"...and so Lewis and Clark continued their voyage, in spite of the problems they faced..." Mr. Malkin's voice droned on and on, nasal and monotonous. It was sunny and warm outside, so of course inside was turning into a greenhouse full of sweaty and slightly potted students. His nose wrinkled at the smell. It was so strong he didn't need to pinch himself to stay awake, though he still had to refrain from gagging. Les wished the teacher would hurry up a bit and get on to the good stuff. They'd only been on the topic of the Louisiana Purchase for two days now, but it felt more like twelve.

On the plus side... Progresses are made? On the lecture front too, I see.

"...and so Lewis and Clark continued their voyage, in spite of the problems they faced..." Mr. Malkin's voice droned on and on, nasal and monotonous. It was sunny and warm outside, so of course inside was turning into a greenhouse full of sweaty and slightly potted students. His nose wrinkled at the smell. It was so strong he didn't need to pinch himself to stay awake, though he still had to refrain from gagging. Les wished the teacher would hurry up a bit and get on to the good stuff. They'd only been on the topic of the Louisiana Purchase for two days now, but it felt more like twelve.

As someone liking these buffets a lot... You're waisting a wonderful opportunity. Just so you know.

"Well, it's my job to know how you're doing, and if that means being nosy, then so be it." She laughed at the look on Les's face. "And no, I'm not psychic. I just remember how it was in high school. Now, eat your food."

Oh, an adult remembering she was a teenager. I mean, I know teenagers keep forgetting this about their parents, but to be fair, many of them do actually forget about it too.

"Good morning!" He saluted the poster as he jumped out of bed. A shake of the head was enough to clear it of sleep, and his nose caught the smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen.

I wish a mere rewind of the same day over and over was all what was neeed to get my brother so easily out of his bed.

"Leslie! Breakfast is ready!" Mom called from downstairs. Bleh, he hated when she used his full name. At school, it was all nerd-name jeers followed by unfunny lesbian jokes, despite his protestations about inheriting the name from his grandfather. Sometimes he wondered if Grandpa Les had ever hated Great-Grandpa Wainwright for sticking him with that name. His mom's cooking drew him out of his room, and soon he was seated, still in his pajamas, and enjoying some pancakes.

Oh oh, I remember a gadgeteer with that name with a healthy loathing of the Attack Bitches (even more once the fact they're brainwashing new recruit is out) and degenerates from the Pit. Guess Reset Button has a cost. Also, again, hindisght, perfect score and all of that.

Well, the first thing to do was get out of the way, which he did, nimbly dancing around the threat of Clarissa's boots. "Bon appetit, twerp," he called back to her as he ran for the shower.

...Think positive about the perks?

"Hey, Les!" Cameron was waiting for him, as usual. And also as usual, Les didn't see him coming until he spoke up. For all his gawky height, Cameron had a way of making himself seem a lot smaller and hard to notice. He and Les had been in the same group of friends up till the end of fifth grade. Then Cameron moved to a different school for a year, and when he returned, the whole dynamic had changed. Even Jake and Rick thought Cameron was too much of a spaz now. "Um, whatcha doing tonight?"

I guess some things, like EMIYA, Rin's character, or the bond between Illya and Berserker never change. What? I've been on a Fate kick recently, and it beats mentioning fisc agents and the likes for this sort of situation.

Shadowzone was a decent game, he decided as he powered down his computer for the night. The arena-style shooter combined an alien horror style with a cool sci-fi aesthetic, but the level layout for the new expansion was, well, average at best. He'd been finding goodies right and left, hidden in spots that the designers must've thought were clever, but which seemed glaringly obvious to him. Bolstered by all the firepower he was turning up, his team had blasted through the abandoned cityscape of the game, with all its weird architecture, and were able to confront and destroy the first big boss without breaking a sweat. Hopefully the team versus mode would be more challenging.

The thing about some games: Discovery is an awesome one-time thing, but the game needs to be able to offer more than this.

--bing-bong ba-dee ba-dong-- The six jingly notes led off the semi-random melody that heralded the end of Les's slumber. The alarm clock had been programmed so that it was not too loud, not too soft, and not so predictable that it lulled the brain back to sleep. Dad had been rather proud of his work there.

You were a PC Gamer, you are now a morning person. Be proud to now belong to not one but two Master Race, dude.

He took the cue, jumping out of bed and sliding through the bathroom door just ahead of his little sister, Clarissa. "Too slow, sis!"

"No fair!" The ten-year-old stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'll be quick, promise. Save some pancakes for me."

Dunno about that improvement though. on one hand, hot water guaranteed. On the other, pancakes cooling off, and you can always little siblings to devour them all...

...thinking of the poster hanging over her bed, she struck a pose, only to lose her grip on the towel. Thankfully, there was no one there for Les to flash but herself, but even if there were, this hypothetical peeping Tom would be disappointed. Les took after her mother in every way except for her Irish red hair and kelly green eyes, but that unfortunately meant she fit the stereotype when it came to Asians and chestiness. She really hoped she'd inherited something from Grandma Katie, and that it would hurry up and show itself soon. Then she could lord it over Jacqueline at school.

Aaaand, gender change. How deep this hole will keep going?

"Hey, wait up! You said you'd walk to school with me!"

"Did I?" she said, feigning ignorance.

"Yes, you did." Clarissa tried to skewer her big sister with her best glare, but it only made her go cross-eyed. That made them both laugh. Les hugged her little sister, then waited for her to finish dressing. A few minutes later, they were on their way together.

Is tthat a sister thing? Going together at school was never a big thing for me and my brothers.

"Miss Wainwright!" The only time Mr. Malkin's voice wasn't as dry as a mummy in the Sahara was when he was angry, and then it positively dripped like a sponge full of sarcasm. "Perhaps you..."

"Sacajawea helped to secure safe passage through the Shoshone lands and it is reasonable to say that without her help..." Les kept reading through to the end of the page, and would have kept going if Mr. Malkin hadn't recovered from his surprise by then and waved for her to stop.

When the reset button is a friend outside of Fire Emblem.. Only heretics accept to not take plot-mandated loses..

"How was school today?" Mom asked as she passed a plate of fried rice around the table. She didn't turn down a second helping. Mom'd learned from the best, namely Grandpa Wen and his guys at the Chinese buffet downtown. They'd invited Les to come by and learn the ropes last summer, and she'd enjoyed it so much that she couldn't wait for vacation to begin again. She wasn't nearly on a level with Mom, but she hoped to get there someday. For now, she was perfectly fine with Mom doing the cooking.

Huzzah for more improvements... Less Huzzah for the nasty implications.

"What about your friends? Jacqueline, Wendy, Rita, or... uh, what was his name, Cameron? Everything's going okay with them?"

Really? The firnds too? Talk about overkill.

"So when do you think Cameron will finally ask you out on a date?"

"Mom!" God, why did she have to be so nosy?

"Well, it's my job to know how you're doing, and if that means being nosy, then so be it." She laughed at the look on Les's face. "And no, I'm not psychic. I just remember how it was in high school. Now, eat your food."

She was happy enough to focus her attention on her food, and leave the conversation to her little sister. Mostly, she was thinking about what Mom had said about Cameron. As a friend, there was no denying his good points. As a boyfriend... She shook her head. No way.

You can't fight some things Cameron, so quit while you have a shred of decency to win back... Look you're the only one thing not changing here, ducker, so you have to be the one, even if I hadn't read that story yet, so please, quit.

Thinking of the poster hanging over her bed, she struck a pose, only to lose her grip on the towel. Thankfully, there was no one there for Les to flash but herself, though once again she grumbled at the genes she'd inherited from Grandma Katie. They'd kicked in over the last few months, and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Already she was almost a cup size bigger than Mom, and that entire stereotype about Asian chestiness was blown out of the water by her burgeoning artillery. The bath towel could barely cover it all.

Look, little prick, besides the disgusting and creepy factor, and no matter how many things you 'improve' in hr life, it's not sticking, so drop out. You're getting close to the Homura Zone here, and nobody wants to go beyond the Homura Zone...

++++++1505080645it105++++++

Ten minutes later, Les was dressed and filling up on pancakes. Clarissa had already finished, and was getting out of the shower just as Les was putting her shoes on to leave.

"Hey, wait up! You said you'd walk to school with me!"

"Did I?" she said, feigning ignorance.

"Yes, you did." Clarissa tried to skewer her big sister with her best glare, but it only made her go cross-eyed. That made them both laugh. Les hugged her little sister, then waited for her to finish dressing. A few minutes later, they were on their way, together.

Except little fucktards I guess. Look, if by 100 timelines, your girlfriend hasn't used the karmic potential of all the universes to become a godess by rewriting an unfair reality, you have to quit. (Feeling dumb for not getting the 'itx' number implication until the end of that section of the story).

"Okay, ladies. Everyone ready for the new Shadowzone expansion rollout tonight?" her best friend Jacqueline was saying. Everyone nodded. Friday night was online game night with their crew, and they'd been looking forward to this expansion for months. Leslie, Jacqueline, Rita, and Wendy, the four Amazon princesses of Laurence Pell Junior-Senior High's eighth grade class. Or at least, so they liked to pretend.

Les? Friendly advice, drop the name. Onnly enraged katyusha-sublte brainwashing-happy attack bitches use a moniker like that.

"Do you ever get the feeling there's something off about the world?" she asked Clarissa as they returned home from school. Her sister's elementary was right next door to Laurence Pell Junior/Senior High, and it was a leisurely stroll when one had company.

"Is this one of those teen things?" Clarissa asked. "Like the boobs and the boy-craziness?"

That earned the twerp a thunk on the head. "Not like that. More like... you know what déjà vu means, right? Well, it's like today was one huge string of déjà vu moments. No surprises. Like, at all. All my classes were perfectly predictable, down to the questions on my math quiz. It's driving me nuts -- short trip!" she shouted just as Clarissa opened her mouth.

See? Even your mark know something is off. Just quit, and begin to beg for mercy. You can't have a legal way of doing it.

"I couldn't find my favorite blue shirt, so I put my red one out on the chair. Then I went to dig up a bra, and when I turned around, the blue shirt was there and the red was nowhere to be seen!"

...And whatever dingus you're using is quitting too. Give Up.

"Um, hey Les..." Cameron managed to call out her name and mumble it at the same time, somehow. For all his gawky height, the boy was a maestro of being the smallest in the room when it came to presence. Even Clarissa seemed larger. Sometimes she thought it a wonder that the two of them had been friends for so long. Jacqueline and Rita kept telling her to dump the spaz, but Les was always loyal to her friends. Even if he was a total spaz.

See? No progress, drop it. Don't make people force feed you your guts for what cannot be a healthy treatment of a so-called friend.

Now that had been a total flop, she thought as she powered down her computer for the night. She and her friends had enjoyed Shadowzone ever since it first came out, and the expansion had promised a lot with its bizarre, alien cityscape, but the whole thing was so easy she could laugh! The Amazons had blasted through the main event quest, taking out the big bad in record time. Seriously nerfed, the game was. No challenge at all. The only positive lay in the new weapons designs, which had been pretty interesting. She grabbed a notebook to scribble down some ideas. The actual blasters from the game were impossible of course -- they were only bits of code, after all -- but maybe...

Okay, I'm stumped. How do you judge the replayability of a game going by time loops like this?

"Sacajawea helped to secure safe passage through the Shoshone lands, and it is reasonable to say that without her help..." Les kept reciting till she reached the end of the page, without once looking at her text. She'd already read the entire unit while Mr. Malkin was taking roll. She sat down to the sound of silence. When the teacher finally spluttered his way back into the lecture, she was already designing something else.

At least she's getting superpowers out of that shit. Unless for some reason the apparition of these superpowers caused the whole thing to implode on your stupid face, Cameron.

++++++1505081530it199++++++

"Oh, look. There's your boooooooyfrieeeeeeeeend..."

Les held back a groan. Cameron was waiting near the playground on the corner from their house, standing in the most non-nonchalant manner possible. This sort of thing happened at least once a week, and she dreaded what was going to come next. As a friend, there was no denying his good points, but as a boyfriend... No way.

Again, Katsyusha-subtlety. And still not working, even with brainwashing that extensive. Take a fucking clue. I'm offering you several, straight up to your head. You're at twice the Homura Zone, got it?

"Can't believe I'm gonna have to reset the damn thing again."

"Wait, what was that you said?"

"... knew I shouldn't have left it automated for so long..." Cameron mumbled on a moment longer before he realized that he was being followed, past the sand box and the slides.

See? Even you know it's toast.

"Today? Today?" For some reason, Cameron seemed to think this was terribly funny. "Today doesn't really exist, anymore than it did the time before this, or the time before that. Ha ha, I can't even, um, call it yesterday, 'cause all we've got is now. And you, um, you turn me down every now, no matter what."

I'd say she has excellent instincts.

Clarissa was standing exactly where she'd been when Cameron had shouted. The shaking of reality hadn't affected her in the slightest, hadn't moved her even an inch. Looking around, Les saw that her little sister wasn't the only one. There was a kid on the far side of the playground who was stuck halfway down the slide. A blue jay hung in the air, and some wind-blown leaves had stopped in mid-whirl.

"Stop the world, I want to get off?" Had Cameron really said that? Well then, how was Les supposed to get back on? She sat on the ground next to her sister-as-statue and began shaking.

Okay, I know it's hard to actually do so in your situation, but relax, Les. It clearly is a simulation, because:
A) No way that little degenerate was able to build a device able of destroying reality, the trusty vicious old bitch,
No way that little degenerate was able to steal a device able of destroying reality, the trusty vicious old bitch, from a scientist able to do so,
C) If the scientist of needed to prove his device was drooling-moron proof, no way he would have left a way for the little degenrate to destroy reality, the trusty vicious old bitch.

No, no, no! What had gone wrong? Cameron Donner lowered the VR set from his head, glad to have the spongy weirdness of its padding away from his face. What was still going wrong? He flipped through the user manual over and over, faster and faster, as if the incomprehensible jumble of letters might work better as a flipbook. The machine was just short of its two-hundredth cycle, and Yanos had said it would all be over well before now.

C) it is then. Also, probalby the fact you're a sub-human garbage bin.

YANOS: What is it?

CAMDON: Something's wrong with the machine!

YANOS: Do you have the error log?

It took him a moment to locate the logs on the machine's terminal, the mess of electronics that had been his primary computer a week and a half before. It hadn't been turned off in that entire time, and he wasn't entirely certain it even ran the same OS at this point. Translucent blue cables ran out the back and into the... rest of the machine.

-tap tap tap-

CAMDON: Sent.

YANOS: Good. Wait. This may take a while.

So he waited. And waited. Behind him, the giant blue pearl of God-knew-what that was the main bulk of the machine began to lose its luster, turning dull and grey in patches that expanded in creeps and crawls across its curves. On the inside, a vaguely human silhouette was visible.

Les. How had it come to this? All he'd wanted was a sample, a bit of DNA that he could use in the template Yanos was helping him make. But the machine had a mind of its own sometimes, and then it was done and the cycles had started. Yanos had told him it was all for the best, that Les had the optimal combination of starting traits for what he wanted, and in any case, his friend wouldn't remember anyway....

What was taking Yanos so long? Cameron swiveled his chair to check his computers, only to find both monitors dead black. He was still staring at them in horror an hour later when the federal agents arrived.

A sub-human garbage bin dumber than Alien Covenant's entire cast. Apply for the Guiness, you 'earned' it. Wonder what the other fucktard wanted out of that paydata, becuse what was done to Lester here... Yikes. All the Yikes. Andd several Ews.

And suddenly, she did. Have something, that is. A long-barreled handgun, sleek and stylized, lay on the grass before her. It took a moment for her to recognize it as one of the new weapons she'd seen in publicity for the Shadowzone expansion, though how it got here was beyond her. Had she... called it, somehow? Les picked it up, felt its weight in her hands, and fiddled with the buttons.

Think plus side, Les. You're already doing Matrix better than Matrix. Granted, Saints Row 4 does Matrix better than Matrix, but still. And Saints Row 4 was a fun game.

"Okay, world," she said out loud, in the hopes that something out there was actually listening. What was it that Cameron had said, exactly? "Um, Virt-Sys Access?"

-USER ID PLEASE- The words didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular. They just were.

"Virt-Sys Access Leslie?"

-PROCESSING... NEW USER ID ACCEPTED- Huh, now that had been easy. What was the point of having user IDs or passwords if someone could just put themselves in at any time? Or maybe Cameron had never expected anyone else to try this.

The fucktard, probably not. The creator? I'd say good thing you've got superpowers geared towards tech.

That did the trick, though she wasn't sure what the trick was. There was that funny feeling again, like the world was stretching, only this time it didn't bounce back into place immediately. A rumbling spread through everything at once, and the world around her began to fade away, to dissolve into a pearly blue that was quickly shifting to grey. Trees, birds, items--

Clarissa.

Les held onto her sister, even as the rest of reality was falling to pieces around her. But then even Clarissa was gone, like wispy fog in her hands, and the world had shrunk to a tiny sphere that was barely big enough to hold her at all.

...Free Trauma Points for your first exit?

The federal agent's badge took up his entire field of vision. It dominated his world, and Cameron couldn't look away if he tried. Partly this was because of fear, but mostly it was because someone was holding his head against the surface of his desk and wouldn't let go. Click, went the handcuffs behind his back.

"Where is Lester Wainwright?" came the question, and his body was yanked upright to give the answer.

His tongue was paralyzed from shock and fear, and all he could do for an answer was to stare at the pod in the opposite corner of the room. It had turned a uniformly cloudy grey, and the figure inside was obscured. The agents followed his gaze just in time to see the first cracks form. Like branched lightning they spread across its surface, and then the entire thing melted away.

And Leslie Wainwright was born into the world.

Look at the bright side, fucktard. Yours is an enlightening and brillant career of prison bitch now. Hope you know how to bend over.

The girl on the other side of that window hardly looked any better, though technically she'd only been conscious for twelve hours or so at this point. There was that "technically", however. Four syllables with four metric tons of meaning attached.

Yeah, that's really freaky and unnerving situation here... Having your entire self rewritten without even knowing it happened, even if you're theoretically getting a 'better deal' than the original situation...

"No." He sipped his coffee-flavored sludge. "The conventional hardware components are all fried, and the other sort are currently sloshing around in a bucket on level three. The only piece still intact is unfortunately fixed to the back of Ms. Wainwright's skull, which limits our options. How goes the paper trail?"

Remote self-destruct, prototype intended with a limited lifespan? The possibilities are a tiny bitty too numerous... Also, I recommend contacting Jadis Frost to advices on piece of suspiscious hardware wired in your skull. She's got lots of experience on the subject.

"We'll need to keep him under wraps," said Phelps. "He's our one link back to this Yanos person, slim as it is. NEXT manages a juvenile detention facility in Montana that deals with science-minded offenders, mostly underage minions of various science villains, which is as good a place as any to put him. If his parents object, I can always remind them of just how many different federal crimes we could charge him with instead."

And the fact in the jails he would go that way, hr would be at the very bottom of the pecking order...

"That..." A finger stabbed towards the video footage of the counseling room. "... is not my son." Mr. Ian Wainwright hadn't seemed to be a man of choleric temperament when Phelps had first met him earlier in the week. Certainly, the man did not have the fiery temper of the Irish stereotype: easily lit and easily quenched. Instead, when he got angry, the results seemed more volcanic in their slow build-up and eventual eruption.

Okay time of truth, is it physical resemblance problem, or bigotry here (Yes I kow I said I read it already. Still was the big question here.)?

"Technically true," said Polk, in a voice that showed he'd grown tired of the adverb. "That is in fact your daughter. We've run as full a battery of physical, genetic, and psychological tests as we can on site, and they all support this conclusion. Lester Wainwright is now Leslie. And she has no memory of ever being otherwise." He let that last sentence sink in.

"Is there any way to, to reverse the process?" asked the mother, Lyn Wainwright. She was settled into the room's couch, with the family's younger child asleep beside her.

"If -- and that's an impossible if, by the way -- if we had the original devise in perfect condition, and if we could figure out how exactly it did what it did, and if we could duplicate it... No. It would require putting Les through the exact process all over again, which would be illegal, immoral, and unethical." Not to mention the fact that Polk wasn't sure it would even work on Leslie now, given the side effects.

Your entire self rewritten with no trace left... Yup, gives me the creeps. And make the Attack Bitches' scorn here look utterly braindead: There is pretty much no trace left of her being a guy in far too many ways for her to be a 'false girl'. Fucking brainwashing bigots.

"What are we supposed to do with... her?" Mrs. Wainwright asked. Her pale face was sallow with fatigue. She absently stroked her daughter's hair as she spoke.

Love her to the best of your ability. Just that simple. In theory at least.

"We'll need to test her mutation this afternoon, but if all remains stable then I don't see why she can't go home with you for dinner."

"What's this about a mutation, then?"

"Mr. Wainwright, I am sure you understand exactly what the words means."

"Impossible." The man actually snorted at that.

"It's certainly more likely than a Chinese girl with fire engine red hair and emerald green eyes," Polk replied. "And the genetic tests back me up on this. Leslie is an active mutant." He watched the parents' faces carefully "Is there going to be a problem here?"

Welp, you were not filling me with hope here Mr. Wainwright.

"Not with me, personally, but..." The father brushed his hair back nervously. "When I said impossible, I meant exactly that. My office went through NMT-3000 certification two years ago... Oh, don't give me that look," he snapped. "You and I both know it's about as useless as 'gluten-free' advertising on bags of potato chips, but that's marketing for you. And you should already know what it takes to get the certification, right?"

He did at that. Despite the amount of mutant-produced gadgeteering now bound inextricably with the modern tech market, there was still a depressing percentage of the population willing to stick their heads in the sand and refuse to accept anything but technology that was certified as "non-mutant derived." As Mr. Wainwright had said, it was a useless, idiotic demand in this day and age, but that was marketing for you.

Wow. As a person extern to that world, and not understanding fully everything tied to its culture for not being born here or living there... That's one of the most stupid things I ever read, and I have difficulties to even imagine their thought process here. Is there a limit to people's stupidity? To be clear, I'm talking about the people who actually think they need such a label on their crap.

"Us, the kids, and our parents. Cost too damn much, and now I have to explain this to the CEO tomorrow. Christ..." Mr. Wainwright rubbed his face. "I've been working from home all week. I'll need to clear all that out before we can take him -- her home."

And on a far more scary side... Last time mutation was forced like this, it was with Trevor and his cousin, involved Nimbus and Mythos-flavored techno-sorcery fueled by human sacrifices. An awful lot of them. Not thrilled at the idea of knowing how that Yanos built that thing.

They'd found Les. Yay. He was still alive. Bigger yay. There was something wrong or weird going on with him. What else was new? She'd slept through the details, but how much weirder could the dweeb get, really?

Let's say you're in for a shock.

In fact, the tears began flowing just as Clarissa realized that this girl was staring right at her.

Random question, how good is your Reflex save?

"Clarissa!" And then was was being squeezed half to death, again, with no idea why or what or how or especially who. Then her right ear picked words out of the string of sobs: "You're alright. Thank God, you're alright. I didn't know what to do when you and everything else froze up and then you disappeared, and..." The strange girl broke down into even more sobs at that point.

Not very good I guess.

"Sorry!" The pressure let up, but the girl -- who couldn't be Les, seriously! Look at her! -- didn't remove her arms. "It's just... it's just... I thought I'd lost you, and..." The tears flowed freely again. Seriously, there was no way this huggy-feely mess could be her dweeb of a big brother, right?

You're the one in the Whateleyverse, pretty sure you should know how things can go. Especially with Internet. Also, you really need to improve your Reflex save, for your own good.

Now that was all done, and Les had a moment to 'freshen up', which for some reason meant they all had to go. The dweeb, she noticed, was hardly sweating at all, even after that workout. A bit of water splashed on the face, and you'd think she was fresh as a daisy. What really weirded Clarissa out was how at ease Les was in the women's washroom. There was no hesitation or embarrassment, no sign at all that this... person who used to be her big brother realized how wrong the situation was. This new Les was just so... so lady-like that it was melting Clarissa's brain all over again.

Then there was lunch, where Les proved that certain things hadn't changed so much -- things like the dweeb's appetite and table manners. The cafeteria food wasn't so bad, but it didn't rate going back for seconds, much less fourths.

And the Will one for brain melting.

And now it was four hours after lunch, and Clarissa was bored out of her skull. The rest of the power testing had been a dud, honestly. No fireballs, lightning, explosions, nothing. Les had failed most of the tests in five minutes, which was still longer than it'd taken for his last history test, she'd heard. But then the testing guys had put him/her/whatever into a big room with lots of electronic junk, and that was three hours ago.

Pretty sure the next one... won't be failed in nearly as much time.

Clarissa'd spent most of that time watching a Mutant High series marathon. At least this place had basic cable. She snerked as that idiot Beemer nearly destroyed the gymnasium with his omicron particle eye beams by accident, again. Too bad they couldn't send Les to a place like this. The dweeb would fit right in.

Wo-ho-ho, Pause right here! You're not telling me that Marvel is letting that blatant Cyclpos rip-off fly without unleashing entire battalions of lawyers.
Also, you'd be surprised, girlie.
And last point... Can these series actually pay Wateley for some sequences or inspiration by chance?

Les caught the thing before it could hit the ground. "Sorry about that. I should've warned you." The weird girl then activated the player again and gave Clarissa a tour of the controls. "See, it's got all your favorite songs on file already. Someone down in IT has a huge cache of MP3s on a back server. Anyway, you can arrange them in any order you want. Alphabetic, by artist, album, publisher, genre, length, or your choice of numerological system. It can also stream any podcast you want, or play TV shows and movies with full buffering. The case is made of this new cermet alloy they had on hand, and the screen,"tap-tap-tap, "is actually a cultured sapphire lens. It's completely waterproof, can withstand any level of pressure you can, and should be good up to temps of at least a thousand degrees Kelvin." The dweeb finished off this spiel like it was something impressive, but it was all scientific gobbledegook to Clarissa.

Gadgeteer. Also, bratty, if you're too bratty to accept, some people will like it.

Gadgeteer. There were a couple of other abbreviations on the list -- both beginning with E, oddly enough -- but that first one by itself was enough to end his career at Puritech Solutions, Inc. Everyone in the industry knew what trained gadgeteers could do, and no one but no one would ever trust a single thing to come out of any project he was involved in. It was guilt by association with genius, unfortunately.

Other... a bit less. Also, seriously, Puritech Solutions? KKK Associated, NazIncorporated and Final Solutions, Inc., were all already taken? Must suck, having no choice but working for these fucktards.

It had to be the mutation, he surmised much later on a happily full stomach. Gadgeteers were supposed to have an instinctual grasp of how systems worked, right? Perhaps that could be applied to cooking. Then Dr. Polk's explanations returned to him, with things like "feedback loops" and "forced neural overwriting". His son, now his daughter, had been reprogrammed from the basic memory on up, and with that evidently came the ability to cook.

His stomach was not-so-happily full now.

Yeah, that mess of thorns is something I wouldn't want to touch with a three-hundred feet pole either.

Culture shock was an odd thing, Lyn Wainwright knew. She'd experienced it enough on those family trips to Hong Kong in her youth. The big things, the big differences were easy to prepare for because they were so big. You could see them coming, or could hear about them from those who'd traveled before you. It was the little stuff that tripped you up, though, the little differences that cropped up where you felt most comfortable.

And just wait for Les' turn for culture shock.

"What the heck happened to my room!?"

Dr. Polk had said that the mad science machine, the "devise" as he called it, had worked off of Les's own memories, altering them slowly to fit the changes it was making to the rest of him. Apparently this included the details of his bedroom, as Leslie made it perfectly clear that this wasn't her room at all.

Right on cue.

"My picture of valkyrie Brunhilde. The one I drew last summer. Where is it?" The question broke at the end with a tiny hiccup.

"Your..." She wasn't sure what the girl was talking about. Lester drew and painted on occasion, but as far as she knew he'd never finished anything. Most of his attempts were stacked in the back of his closet, and that was the first place she checked. "Is this it?"

The piece she pulled out was only the bare bones of a picture, with the outline of a person, a few smudges of charcoal pencil, and not much else. It could have been almost anyone, but Leslie took it carefully into her hands and nodded. "I thought... I thought I'd finished..." There was another hiccup, followed by a sob.

And some things are downright vicious. Cameron? Your choice of cell was reconsidered, you're rooming with Johnathan 'Crusher' Welsey. He got turned into a hulking mess of metal by an idiot like you, and he's got quite the temper to vent, after being sent here to have mauled said fucktard (rest assured, his sentence was minimal, an everyone really understanding with him). Don't worry, safeties will be here to make sure you stay alive.

She didn't have an alarm clock -- had never needed one, in fact. The dweeb's was loud enough to wake the dead, and its foghorn bellow vibrated the wall between their rooms every morning at 6:30. She was used to it by now, to the point that she now woke up five minutes before it went off. So when it erupted into its usual WEEE-ORRR, she wasn't surprised. When it got cut off in mid-WEE, followed by the crash of an alarm clock against the wall, that did surprise her.

Morning People Master Race, guys.

"Um, I guess you could walk with me today," she offered. "I mean, we can't say who you really are, obviously, but you could be my cousin or something. If anyone asks." And oh, would people be asking...

She'd never seen someone literally light up from happiness, but that head of red hair was practically glowing now. Clarissa rushed off to get dressed, just to escape the weirdness of the moment.

The nastiness is just lurking here, waiting to blow up when reality and memory will begin colliding...

Mr. Maxwell Devlin, "Call me Max" to his employees, was lacking his signature good-natured smile now. The manila file before him was open, with all the data that ARC could share laid out upon his desk. "This is a difficult position for the company to be in, Ian."

So, one able to play nice. Not that I'm trusting someone who's going fo that label or a name reeking far right like that.

And there it was. He could read between the lines as well as any man, and that had the sound of a boss giving an employee two weeks' notice. Ian was glad he'd updated his CV last night.

"Understood, sir. I've already given my project notes over to Brian, just in case."

"Thank you, Ian."

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

"No, that will be all. Take the rest of the day off, be with your family, get your things in order."

"Thank you, sir." He took his leave, not trying to decipher the look on his soon-to-be former boss's face. There was nothing good behind it, he was certain.

Yup, all in crocodile tears.

The girl actually had a good sense for fashion, if a bit more conservative than Lyn had expected. Leslie knew how to dress up, but seemed to avoid anything overly sexual without even thinking about it.

I smell more brainwashing. Johnathan? Hit the wall a few more times with Cameron's head, will you?

"Not really. None of my friends hang around in front. Only the jocks and the cool kids meet there. A couple of guys tried to flirt with me, but I just kept on walking." The girl smiled at that. "Funny, they never did that before."

"I find that hard to believe." Really, she did. Ian was already talking about getting a shotgun to fend off all the boys who were sure to come sniffing around.

As if dumb little fucktard was nursing competition in his virtual phantasm.

Her mother could believe it. The Donner boy had an end-goal in mind when he set up the devise, even if he claimed Les's involvement was accidental. And if the thing was going to produce the perfect girlfriend, it wouldn't do to have her be attached to anyone else in her memories. So all of Lester's friends turned into Leslie's girl-friends, and the high school hunks kept their distance, just so Les would think no one would ever want to date her.

Oh Lord, was the girl going to be in for a surprise.

I also have to say that computer and Cameron were quite unimaginative, not thinking about potential bi/les/pansexual competition here. And now I thought about that, I want to throw up for imaginating planning this sort of rewriting of an individual.

Clarissa scribbled down the last answer on her math worksheet, slammed her textbook shut, and let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Numbers had never been her thing. She'd left that sort of stuff to the dweeb. Only now, the dweeb had memories of helping Clarissa with homework from time to time. So, did she break down and ask for help, or continue trying to avoid weird situations?

Friendly advice, pride is the cheapest thing ever, always trade it for something actually worthwhile. Coming from someone who should take that advice far more often.

That perked her up, at least. She was down the stairs in a flash. Mom and Dad were waiting for her, along with (sigh) her big sister. She suffered having to sit with the dweeb in silence, which Les unfortunately decided to fill with chatter about the big shopping trip today. Who wanted to hear about that, really? Not Clarissa. It was a long drive to Grandpa's.

Mrs. Wainwright? Cherish that contempt, because in some ears, it will be two girls going for these shoppng trips. May Gygax have mercy of your wallet.

"Yào, xiexie!" the dweeb squeaked. Of course Les knew how to reply properly. Of course. What was one more bit of weirdness on top of the rest? At least Grandpa looked happy.

Thank duck, some old peopl in the hateleyverse actually have a nodding acquaintance with fucking decency.

He looked at that face, only now starting to show signs of age. Eventually his father-in-law would be a stereotypically wizened old font of wisdom, but for now his face was as round and jovial as the happy buddha statue on the counter by the register. The wisdom, however, was there regardless.

I like you, sir.

"She's family, so there are no problems with her being underage. She believes she has experience, which might help. She has an interest in learning Mandarin, so it would be educational as well. And of course," the old man added with a twinkle in his eye, "she'd look quite charming in one of our waitress outfits."

I like you a lot.

And now Leslie, so like Lester and yet so different. He watched her now, dressed in a form-fitting blue China dress with her hair up in the traditional ox-horns. There was a year's worth of surprise and wonder right there. Seeing her with the customers, she seemed completely natural, completely at ease and as serene as the goddess Guanyin on her pedestal in the front of the restaurant. Sometimes, he imagined the Buddhist deity, herself of ambiguous gender, approved of his new granddaughter's grace and courteousness.

Did I say I liked you already. Because it warrants repetition, with all these mutants' parents utterly failing at basuic human decency.

The girl was more than ready to bounce away, though he knew she would never sit down long enough to actually rest. Leslie had all of Lester's cleverness and imagination, with the addition of a good deal more focus and energy to back it up. So far this week, she'd rewired the old refrigerator in back, increased the power of the microwave oven, and built her grandfather a new computer out of spare parts that his son-in-law had provided. Then she taught herself how to use the restaurant's accounting software, and organized the recipe database while she was at it.

Grandpa Wen understood that none of this was normal, but where others might react with fear and hatred, he merely rejoiced in the strange and wonderful experiences that life had to offer. Such was this world. Such was this time. Only a fool would not appreciate the beauty of miracles.

I'd like to have her help for my laptop, please. Also, Fools are alas everywhere.

There were few boys at Laurence Pell Junior / Senior High who were as thoroughly average as Harry Treatner, and that was pure calculation on the eleventh grader's part. He'd found the sweet spot of coolness and attention, just enough to be there and be a part of all the action, but not so much that people tried to take him down a peg. An active member of the football team, but never MVP. Passing all his classes, but never so well that people called him a nerd. It was a comfortable level of studied non-accomplishment. It was just enough that everyone knew him, and he knew everyone who mattered.

Like that sheep probably is.

"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked.

"Your phone number?" he replied with his most trustworthy, shit-don't-stink smile.

"In your dreams, Mr. Anonymous."

Dunno if I must grudgingly approve the open way you go at it, or sneer at te open attempt. Also, nice comeback.

"How'd it go?" Wyatt asked.

"The hook is baited and the fish is nibbling. Just a little time, and I'll reel it in," he said with a smirk. Leslie was interested; he could tell as much. This would give him something to look forward to the run-up to finals week.

Okay, boy, are you on drugs for believing what you said?
No? Welp, I like you after all. Pass here for blood tests. Whatever thing in your blood got you to believe what you said, I swear we can make the best hallucinogen on the market out of it one I figured out how to synthetize it. We'll rule the drugs market, or at least we will outside of Dr Diabolik's field of intelligence-increasing drugs! And that totally not wired for maximum scamming contract will make sure you get your fair part.

She'd taken the bait, Harry was happy to say. Leslie messaged him that first night, keeping it innocent but curious.

Bleh, he ws actually right.

He was starting to feel bad for what his friend Wyatt Devlin had said about her.

Took a moment to remember that last name... Mr Wainwright? When Leslie will go to Whateley, take contact with Mrs. Cody, and speak longly of the fucktard of a boss who had such loose lips about your daughter. She can point you towards nice professionals with a long, long experience of dealing with such individuals.

"Is it okay if I take my break outside?" his granddaughter asked that day. The request came as a surprise; normally the girl was happy to stay inside and tinker more. But if she felt the need for some fresh air, who was he to say no?

He nodded his assent and watched her dash out into the late afternoon sunshine. Then he turned and nodded again, this time to Johnny Tsao, the heavyset cook who handled the kitchens for him most of the time. Johnny took the hint, slipping out the side door as quiet as the breeze. Doubtless, the man had at least one cooking implement of a sharp and dangerous nature on his person.

Jiang Wen trusted his granddaughter implicitly. It was the rest of the world he treated with suspicion.

Wise man indeed.

"Nǐ hǎo!" And there she was, right on schedule, his exotic little fish on the line. After a week of texting, it didn't take much to get her on a date, if that's what they could call this.

You're quickly joining Frak, Wahnsinnig and the Attack Bitches on my list of partners for playing 'Bash the head against a wall until I fall asleep'.

He could have taken her down the wrong path. He should have taken her down the wrong path. In years to come, he'd reach the conclusion that this was one of the great mistakes of his life, that he didn't lead Leslie away from the spot where Wyatt Devlin and a half-dozen friends were waiting. He'd been taking orders from higher in the pecking order for so long, that even when his heart was yelling 'No,' he still kept going.

Some hope might perhaps exist...

"Lookie here, boys," came Wyatt's self-assured drawl. Then it was too late for regrets. The greater bulk of the school's football team popped out of hiding, and they were surrounded. "The freaky fish on a hook, well and caught."

I smell an attempt at gang-rape here. Mr. Wainwright? When you arrive, go for knives. Sure, Mr. Franks could tell you guns got the message faster, but you can't really aim them lower without risking touching your daughter.

"Wise up, bro." Wyatt's voice matched the sneer on his lips. "Got the info straight from my dad, who got it straight from his dad." The young man stabbed a finger at Leslie to emphasize the pronoun. "That's Lester Wainwright, not-so-disappeared after all, so shake that freak off your arm, Harry. He wants to play a girl, then we teach him how girls get treated."

I refuse to think Dearest Daddy's babbling was anything but intentional and aimed at producing that result. Fucking fucktard.

"Leslie. Her name is Leslie." What the hell was he doing? a small part of his brain demanded to know. It wasn't connected to the part that sent a fist straight into Wyatt's face.

Okay Harry, you might not need disparaging nicknames after all.

The problem with being a shield was that you took all the hits. Harry was used to getting pummeled on the field, but there he had pads to absorb some of it. Here, under the fists and boots of his own teammates, he could feel the bones cracking in a symphony of pain.

Well, you did got her in that spot, so paying for consequences and all that. On the other, well, you are taking these hits.

It was the weirdest combination of bleeps, bloops, and Top 40 tunes, and the only reason he even noticed it at first was because the beatdown stopped for it. Part of this oddball orchestra was coming from his own hip pocket, accompanied by the various devices everyone was now pulling out. He could barely make out the words that came next, and only because each phone produced the exact same phrases:

"911 emergency services. We received a call from this number..."

"Help! Some guys are beating up my boyfriend in Bryce Park, maybe ten minutes from the Hong Kong Buffet!"

Technopathy, gotta love it.

Mitch Thompson actually threw his to the ground and jumped up and down until it was in pieces.

Good quick thinking, Mickey, now you onl– Oh right, therre are half a dozen of a phones here, and they were all going at the same time. Must suck, uh?

The last thing he remembered seeing before he passed out was Leslie running back into the clearing, followed by a police officer and a very large Oriental guy. He hoped he wasn't just hallucinating.

Well, the blood tests didn't reveal any miracle hallucinogen naturally present in your blood, so I'd say probably not. Goodbye easy money.

Maybe they hadn't given him his phone back yet. Maybe his dad had forbidden him from contact. Mr. Treatner was none too happy that his son got beaten half to death in defense of a mutant.

Meh, if they were willing to do that for a punch, friends the fucktards weren't.

Everyone wanted her to be something else. The annoying big brother, the dutiful son, the loser dork, the victim, the mutant menace, something, anything. She couldn't even count on her own friends because they didn't exist anywhere except in her memory. The only person willing to take her on her own terms, on her own memories, was Grandpa Wen, who seemed to accept each day as it came, and her as well. Grandpa -- and maybe Harry too. Whatever the original reason for asking her out, he'd treated her like the girl she was, not like some weird thing that couldn't fit in.

Yeah, culture shock.

-peep- Her phone buzzed into life for just a second. She closed her eyes, reading the message as it arrived in a burst of data: "Hi, Leslie. I'm doing okay. Surgery's over. Doctors say I'll be in therapy for a few months. Miss our chats. Harry."

You might be okay dude.

Without bothering to open her eyes, or even touch the phone, she sent a message back: "Miss you too..." They texted back and forth for a little while longer. She told him that Grandpa Wen promised him a free lunch anytime he might stop by, and how Wyatt and his buddies were the centerpiece of a big display explaining exactly why they were banned from the premises for life. Any other punishment would have to wait until the courts did their thing. Since a mutant was involved, that could take a while.

One last time for the road, I really like you, Mr. Wen. Also, to see Mister Purity Whiter than White explain how his little degenerate got to learn about that.

"I reject your reality, and substitute my own," she whispered, a challenge to the world.

Nice statement.