Question The Micro-Scenes thread

New York- November 2006

Imp looked up from her paper as Pinball wandered into the Black Mask. The energizer wasn't in costume, and was instead looking spiffy in a pant suit. “Hey yah Pin, what's with the suit?”

“Oh the secret identity was called for jury duty, and well...”

“No, no I get it. I do the same. Say, do you have any family in Cincinnati?”

“None that I can think of, why?”

“There's some bouncing brat up there giving SPECTRUM and their new kid side kick a headache. Calls herself Madcap, and... it reads almost like she's a cross between the two of us, just without either of our style.” Imp replied showing Pin the article.

Her new coloured contacts made her eyes itchy, but Marni tried to ignore it. Everyone knew she was a mutant, there was no reason to emphasize it by showing her orange iris's. Putting her books and the pile of homework her parents had gotten from her teachers into her bag, she added a box of energy bars on top of it. She was eating a lot more than usual and if she used her powers, not that she wanted to, she'd need them to refresh herself.

Heading out the door she started the short walk to school. Rachael met her halfway there.

“Hey,” Marni said.

“Hey, yourself,” Rachael said.

They walked in silence for a minute, getting odd looks from some of the other students and a few adults.

“I'm sorry that I let everyone know you're a mutant. I just wanted to tell my parents, and accidentally woke everyone else up.”

“I know,” she said. “How's everything at school?”

“They've got a bet going that you're going to look like a monster at the end of the month.”

Marni looked up at the sky, begging for strength. “Well I'm not. I'm going to keep looking just like me, at least according to the MCO.”

“You went to the MCO? That's the other bet, the MCO is going to arrest you before the end of the term.”

“I got my powers tested, and an MID. They weren't too bad, a lot like dealing with Principal Snyder. A big stick up their ass, but as long as you shut up and nod at the right parts, not too bad.”

“That's good. That's really good.”

“Heads up scum!” a boy shouted from across the street.

Instinctively activating her powers, everything seemed to move in slow motion. She could hear and see so many things, from the buzzing of insects to the beating of Rachael's heart, she could even see the sweat on the boys face who had yelled at her, it was almost confusing. She watched the basketball, judging the speed, spin, and knew that it was going to hit her head, almost casually she raised her hands, caught it and in one smooth motion sent it rocketing down the street at least a block away to land in a garbage can, knocking it over.

Time returned to normal, her stomach growled. Taking her bag off, desperate to get an energy bar, she noticed that everyone was staring open mouthed in shock.

“Crap,” she said, realizing that there was no way she was going to be treated normally now.

Uganda's Sign: If you turn in a report with a dozen misspellings, "I was too close to Uganda. " will not be accepted as an excuse. There is no "bleed" effect. Unless you are writing near Uganda herself, your writing will not be affected. The next person to blame her because they are too lazy to proofread will be assigned to be her scribe for a week.

Edna

The Headmistress was tapping her foot when we walked in.

"What are we going to do with you two? You do realize the interesting conundrum you present, While Mitchel can still take some remote studies, that doesn't qualify as a full load you know."

"We know" both of us said simultaneously, the lab boys still haven't adapted that sim neural interface yet, but I smiled as we hadn't lost our touch.

"And I understand you want to take your PE courses as one student in a sense?"

"You do know you two are going to get strange looks when they realise that you Edna are WEARING your brother Mitchel right?"

"Yes, however I get the feeling this isn't all you called us down for is it, Miss Carson?" I heard from the speaker on my collar.

"No it isn't, You are in a delicate situation Mitchel, it is unclear how stable your new form is, if you will survive long or destabilize, for lack of a better term, which is why you both are going to see Dr Bellows regularly, starting today, the Mile High Defenders have informed me that you have yet to come to terms with what happened to your parents, and now with this uncertain situation it is imperative that you do."

I tried to speak, but was interrupted "don't try and deny it, you need this, both of you."

The Mile High Defenders are based out of Denver, but they have satellite groups all over Colorado, we ran to the one who's HQ (hidden in plain sight at their visitor's center) is right across from the Hotel Denver in Aspen. our home was in a nearby town, but it was still quite the hike...

"I know I have brought up painful memories, but it is necessary, I also have to inform you Edna that your outburst in Ballroom Dancing has placed you on the watch list, and security is going to put your and your brother's weapons in safe keeping, I don't think there's much of a risk anymore but we still have to."

I was in shock until Mitchel responded for me, "Thank you we understand, personally I would be surprised if the watch wasn't put in place, and as painful as it may be, it's time we came to terms with that day, I no longer have Diedrick's so we don't have an excuse to avoid the topic, even if I did, I'm already limp"

While I had a plan to write a full story with this, I figure it is safer to put it here in case I never get any further with it.

23 Sept 2007
Crystal Hall

I was humming along with my iPod, which had cued up an old Moody Blues song about a former self of mine. Alas, poor Timmy, he was a great host: so placid, so intelligent, so inspiring, such a tremendous pain in the arse for the Powers That Be. Oh, I would have preferred a female host, as always, but just as with my current form, he was worth the sacrifice. I mused on how much he loved Switzerland, which was where I had been most of this past summer. Life was indeed good.

As I walked through the food lines, I noticed that Cytherea's latest conquest - some brainless piece of beefcake whose name I never caught, useful only for sex and bussing food trays - had finally got hip to her shit, and stormed out leaving her with no one to clean up after her. Typical, really. She left the Euro-Promotional League's table to go sit with the rest of the New Olympians, with an air of someone who was a best mildly amused with what had just happened.

With a smile, I recalled how I had sandbagged her into my own bed, convincing her that I was just a nervous underclassman who was thrilled that she was giving me the time of day in exchange for some help on a Chemistry exam. I chuckled at the thought that she hadn't realized that I was the one who had played her, nor that by the end of that year I had done the same thing - bedroom antics and all - with every other New Olympian except Knick-Knack, Judicator, and Feral. The only one who had caught on to what I was doing was Athena, and I had Elizabeth over a barrel so she kept mum about it.

I sat down next to the Jobester and watched for a bit. As I ate, I decided that the time had come to put my next gambit into motion, a play I had been planning out for the last two years, ever since I noticed some of my old... colleagues... were already at Whateley when I arrived, back when I was a lowly sub-fish.

After a bit of banter with Jads and Lindsey, I excused myself and made my way back to the fruit stands, picking the items I would need for this particular game. I ran my free hand through my hair - I wanted it to be good and messy for this one - then teleported two of the Golden Delicious apples I had picked up in front of Imperious and Majestic. In quick succession, two more appeared before Cytherea and Knick-Knack, a fifth in front of Tracer, and for a finale I dumped a container of apple sauce right onto Counterpoint's head followed by flipping him off with a hand hovering in front of his face.

The look on their faces was quite satisfying.

As a bevy of irate deities jumped to their feet and started glaring towards the Seeds table, I teleported into the empty chair across from Chris. It took them a moment to realize I was there, and they were pretty pissed. Things was going like clockwork, so I gave them a bit of a wave before I spoke.

"So, did you miss me?"

(Miss Powerful's stories have been out of order, because it's not as important as with the other stories, but from here on out they'll be in order. You should be able to figure out where they go without much trouble.)

February, 2006

“Lightning Strike, I'm your biggest fan! Can you sign my book!” Miss Powerful shouted, holding up a limited edition History of the Miami Crusaders.

The superhero gave her a brilliant smile, her neon yellow hair gave off a brilliant glow that seemed to light up the school gymnasium. “Definitely. What's your name?”

“Could you call me by my superhero name? It's Miss Powerful,” she whispered.

That got a radiant smile. “So Miss Powerful, do you want to become a hero one day?”

She nodded madly. “I'm only eleven years old so I haven't manifested yet, but I can't wait to become a mutant and then I can join the Crusaders! I'm exercising a lot to, and my brothers are teaching me how to fight. I really want to join up because you guys are all so cool!”

Lightning Strike laughed, and patted her shoulder. “Keep up that attitude and you'll go far. But remember you have to be an adult to join the Crusaders, and you need to do well in school. What are your grades like?”

“I'm at the top in most of my classes. My cousin is a freshman in high school and she lets me do some of her homework with her. Is it true that you got a math degree. I'm not very good at math. I'm really good at English though. I've already read Taming of The Shrew, with my cousin's help. I liked some of the word play, but the guys in it were jerks! I'd have punched them if they tried doing that to me.”

“Instead of punching them, you should get help. Fighting is only good as a last resort, even I don't like fighting,” the hero said. “I did get a PhD in physics. You'd be amazed at how it helps me in my superhero career, letting me plan where my lightning bolts will hit, how to fly, and where and how hard to throw a villain so he can't hurt anyone when he lands. But English is great to. We always need someone who can speak nicely for the crowd, and knows how to write things down so people understand how we're helping them. Everything can be useful, it just depends on how you use it.”

The hero pulled out a pen that looked a little like a lightning bolt and glowed as she wrote in the book. Handing the book back, she gave her the pen as well. “Keep it, Miss Powerful. It's not often I meet one of my future partners,” she said, giving her a hug.

She staggered away dumbly, a huge smile on her face. Looking at the book she read, 'To my friend, Miss Powerful! You'll be one of the great superheroes one day. Your future partner, Lightning Strike!'

“Best day ever!” she murmured to herself.

After lunch, I had an office session for Dr. Marley, but as soon as it was finished I raced off for the Fixer's Patio to see if I could find Jadis. Fortunately, she was already there. I wasn't surprised that she still seemed shaken by what had happened in the Crystall Hall today; I knew I was.

Looking up at me, she gave me a wry smile."I was hoping you'd want to talk, Trev. Before you ask, no, I had no idea about any of that. Cheese has always played it close to the vest, kind of obvious why, now, but trust me, I was almost as surprised as you must have been."

"Almost?"

She gava dramatic sigh, and went on, "Victor loves dropping hints about things, almost as if he has Nigma's Syndrome or something. Once I saw the apples, a lot of his comments started falling into place."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But the scary part? Eris has worshippers, probably more than even Athena at this point, and while most Discordians aren't very serious about it, even as a joke their veneration of her might be enough to count. If I am not mistaken, Cheese may well be more powerful than Imperious right now."

I goggled at the implications of that, but then remembered something the two of us discussed before. "That... might not be entirely a bad thing, though. It depends on the extent to which the relationship affects the god in question."

"The impact can be fairly significant, actually," came Sara's voice from off to the side. "Do the two of you mind if I join you? While I missed that bit of theatre at lunch today, when I heard about it I was certain that you two would want to discuss it, and I could use some intelligent conversation myself."

Rose rode to school on her new electric bike. She'd seen her neighbour riding one the other week, and her brain liked it so much she'd gone on the internet to see how it worked. She'd made a few tweaks to make it smaller and prettier, and had it running two days later.

“Cool bike, Rose,” her friend said.

“Thanks.”

“Did... did you build it yourself?”

“Yeah. I got the design of the net.”

Her friend looked at the bike nervously. “It's kind of weird how you're suddenly building all kinds of things.”

“My Dad is always getting me to help around the house, because my hands can get into places his can't. I'm just doing things that interest me now,” she lied. “Do you want me to make your bike like this? It only costs about fifty bucks for the parts. Thirty if don't mind it being ugly.”

The nervousness went away. “REALLY? How fast does it go?”

They started talking about everything she could do to improve the bike as they walked to class.

“Who knows the answer to question one?” Mrs. Sanchez, the history teacher asked.

Marni raised her hand. She always loved history, and while she'd been getting weird looks all day, she was happy to slip into the joys of the class.

“Anyone?” Mrs. Sanchez asked again.

She raised her hand higher.

“Yes, Troy, what do you think?” she asked pointing at a boy on the other side of the classroom.

Lowering her hand, Marni figured the teacher just wanted to let others answer, she did that sometimes.

“What about question 2?”

Raising her hand again, Mrs. Sanchez chose another student, again, and again, and again.

“Question 6?”

Marni didn't bother raising her hand, the teacher hadn't even looked at her once.

When the bell rang, she got her things and went to speak to the teacher. Mrs. Sanchez saw Marni coming, and practically grabbed another student, asking a question about his homework. Watching in stunned disbelief, Marni saw them separate almost as soon as they were in the hallway, and her favourite teacher rushed off casting nervous looks over her shoulder.

“Hey Dad, I made the car run on kitchen oil, new or used, and it now gets 30mpg in town, and 38mpg on the highway,” Rose told her dad. Her eyes were ringed with black circles, not only from grease, but because she'd been working on it for the entire three day weekend, with practically no sleep. Her hands were thick with grease and oil, despite having cleaned them off outside.

“Thanks princess. But why didn't you ask me first?” he asked.

“My mutation wasn't letting me sleep, so I decided to just get it done. And you and Mom were gone all weekend, so I figured it was the best time.”

“Oh, OK.”

“So, since no other normal fifteen year old girl that I've heard about could do this in a weekend, with no training except for half a term in shop class, do you think maybe, possibly, I'm not normal?”

“No.”

“If I promise to rewire the house and lower our electricity bill by 40%, could you take me to the MCO to get tested to prove that I'm normal. Because a lot of kids at school are calling me a mutant.”

“No.”

“JESUS CHRIST!” she shouted, storming out of the room to go have a long shower and sleep for the rest of the day.

Crack!

Miss Powerful looked at her phone which hung from her finger like a strange ring. “Uh, what happened?” she asked herself.

Holding her hand up, she bent her apparently unhurt finger, turning more of the plastic into powder. Giving it a tug, the phone split in two as if it were paper. Looking around her room to see if anyone was watching, she crushed the phone between her palms, there was a crunch, and powder mixed with some thin pieces of plastic fell to the floor.

“Cool!” she whispered to herself.

Grabbing her wooden bed frame, accidentally leaving fingerprints in the wood, she lifted it up. She had to spread her legs to keep her balance, but it felt like she was lifting a pillow.

“I'm a mutant!” she shouted, jumping up and down, denting the wall with the bed that she'd forgotten she was holding.

Putting the bed back down, she carefully made her way to the kitchen, thankful that her parents were outside.

Alone in the kitchen, she picked up the phone and very carefully dialed a number she had memorized a year ago.

“Hello, Miami Crusaders, how can I help you?” a man asked.

“HI! I'm a mutant. I talked to Lightning Strike last year, and I can lift my bed with one hand, and she told me that I could be a hero if I turned into a mutant. So now that I'm a mutant, and I put my finger right through my phone and it didn't hurt! So how can I sign up to become a Crusader because I'll do such a good job!” She stopped to gasp for breath.

“All right, thanks for calling, miss. I need to ask you some questions. First do you have an MID?” the person asked.

“No. I just did it. My eyes haven't even changed colour, at least they were still the same colour when I was brushing my teeth. I thought most mutants had their eyes change colour. I was hoping to get really cool eyes, like electric blue, or fiery red. Maybe even pink. Pink is my favourite colour. Do you think my hair will change colour now. Because that would be cool!”

“Calm down, miss. Have you told your parents?”

“No. My parents don't know yet. It just happened, I was about to call my cousin, and my finger went right through my phone like it was tinfoil!”

“Do you think your parents will hurt you if you tell them you're a mutant?”

“No way! My parents are really great. One time I got some pink paint and started to paint the -”

“That's enough. Now listen carefully, tell your parents what happened and tell them you need to get your powers tested. The MCO in Miami is a good place to go. Just make sure your parents call ahead for an appointment, and be sure to visit our website. It has a section about the MCO, what they're allowed to ask and do, as well as other important information. You and you're parents should read it very carefully tonight and make sure you understand everything,” he stressed.

“And then I can join the Miami Crusaders?”

“You can contact us and we'll see about having you and your parents come by for a visit where a member can tell you about your options.”

She jumped up and down with delight, leaving a dent in the ceiling with her head, not that she noticed. “Can it PLEASE be Lightning Strike?!”

“We'll try, but no promises.”

“OK! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” she squealed, hanging up.

Running outside she shouted, “Mom you won't believe what happened!”

“Mr. Kendall, you can't just back out of the project. We've torn apart your living room, getting someone new in will set you back by at least a week, and there is no legal reason to break the contract,” Marni's dad said into the phone.

There was a lot of half understood mumbling from the other end.

“Money isn't a problem you paid me half upfront. I can wait for the rest, I know you're good for it.”

More mumbling.

Her dad's voice became tense up, trembling with barely controlled rage. “My daughter is of no concern to you. If you want to break the contract, I'll see you court.”

From her room down the hallway Marni listened with her powers. Lying on her bed, her muscles vibrate with unused energy, she could feel the faint breeze from under the door, the cotton sheet tickled her bare legs. Her eyes were closed, trying to focus only on listening. It was as if she was in the same room as they were. She could even hear the squeak of her mothers chair as she shifted to type something onto her laptop.

“The Kendall contract is dead?” she asked needlessly.

He grunted.

“We've lost two contracts now, and at least five potentials. We're going to have to tighten our belts, but we can keep everything going for at least a year, that should be long enough to let every thing settle down.”

“Damn fools. Just as bad as the damn KKK,” her dad growled. “Don't you have a book club to go to?”

“I dropped out. They decided to read some anti-mutant propaganda book.”

Relaxing her muscles, Marni's senses dulled back to normal. Opening her eyes, she saw her brother glaring at her from the door, an ugly bruise on his chin.

"What do you want?" she asked.

He didn't answer, just walked away.

Closing the door she put a pillow over her face and cried at what she was putting her family through.

A.N.: This is a deleted scene from a non-Whateley medieval fantasy story I'm working on. This snippet kicks in a few minutes after the protagonist has discovered she has a magic sense, and she's now trying it out while hovering, after noticing that trying to hover seemed to enhance the sense.


Yes, that definitely increased my range, and I could feel those "threads" shooting out of me again. They were my magic. I was throwing it out of myself, and then somehow it curved around, changed, and reached down to pull me and anything around me up. And now I realized that the sense of "upness" that I'd discovered before was just another part of this, because now I could sense even more lines, these ones coming up out of the ground and reaching past me until I couldn't sense them anymore. I could see how my own lines came down parallel to those ones. If I tried to move sideways, they leaned, angling so that they pulled me sideways. And I could feel how that tilt related to my surroundings! This was going to make steering so much easier. I grinned, and then I giggled as I felt the spindly lines of my face curve with my lips. I could feel my whole body. It was really weird. It was like... like if you were wearing really scratchy clothes that you weren't used to, so that you noticed every movement. I hadn't noticed at first because it had been so weak, but the more this new sense came into focus...

I could feel my own heart. Not very well. I was just a bunch of these lines, like everything else was. Inside me the lines were very tangled, but the tangles were connected to each other in ways I vaguely recognized as organs from the diagrams Deacon Woodson had shown us, even if I didn't remember what they all were. But there was one big knot of these lines in my chest that I could feel throbbing in time with my heart. Because it was my heart, obviously.

Feeling your own organs is very distracting, once you realize you can do it. I started to feel queasy, and I could feel as my body reacted to the queasiness, which did not help matters. I opened my eyes and landed before I could make myself sick. I needed to let my magic rest more anyway.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust; I'd had them closed for a pretty good while. The breeze and the comforting sight of mottled sunlight dancing through the forest's canopy helped me relax. It was a beautiful day. How could it be so beautiful after such a terrible night?

As unhappy thoughts started clawing their way into my mind, I decided that being able to feel my own guts wasn't so bad after all. It was distracting, but I wanted to be distracted. And now that I thought about it, I could still feel them. With my eyes open. I cursed under my breath. I knew, in a sort of cold, detached way, that I would eventually get over being exiled from Vinebrook. It would always hurt, but I would be able to face it and move on. The distracting and slightly disgusting ability to feel semi-digested food worming its way through my insides was welcome right now, but it wouldn't be needed forever. Unfortunately, it seemed that I was only getting better and better at sensing it. What was next? Feeling all the bugs?

"Shit." I could feel all the bugs. Tiny little bundles of lines crawling about on the ground, buzzing through the air, crawling over my skin and in my hair. "Shit shit shit shit shit!" I stood up and started brushing the seven ants off my legs and then shaking the two flies out of my hair. But bugs were everywhere. I'd always known bugs were everywhere. That's just part of life. But I hadn't had to feel them all.

I paused. I couldn't feel them. Well, I hadn't felt them, when I was flailing about having a tantrum. Now that I'd paused, I could feel them again. I started walking and the sensations blurred until they were almost gone. I couldn't make out little details like bugs. I could barely make out trees. I closed my eyes and everything came back into focus, more or less. I opened them and the distraction of sight combined with the shifting caused by movement washed the bulk of it away.

I knew it wouldn't last. I just kept getting better at this. Eventually I'd be able to feel everything while walking with my eyes wide open. I sighed. May as well start getting used to it. Maybe after a while I'd just stop noticing, like my other senses did with my own scent or the feel of my clothes. People don't notice the mundane. The sooner this insanity became mundane, the sooner I could stop noticing it.

Noelle glanced over at where Jordan was lurking, a huge grin on her twin's face was she waited for Noelle to pay off the combat final bet they'd made; sister with the worst grade had to alter herself as the winner saw fit and go out in public that way. Noelle had been hoping that Jordan would collect while the school year was still on going, maybe making her go to the Mountaineer's Prom (well they had, but Jordan made clear that it wasn't her reward), but her twin had saved it until summer break and their family hit the Florida beaches. Jordan had first altered Noelle to look like a teenage Scarlett Johansson
and then added her own touches such as purple hair and a wardrobe change.

Gulping Noelle wandered into the small beach side clothing stand, trying to project a confidence she just wasn't feeling as she browsed wearing a tiny swim suit top and nothing else. After five minutes she began to relax as it seemed most of the other shoppers hadn't noticed her lack of bottoms...

“Excuse me miss, but I have to ask you to...”

Noelle turned and gave the shop owner a nervous smile. “Yes?”

The man's mouth moved soundlessly as he looked her up and down, raising a blush on Noelle's cheeks before he let out a whimper. “Mutant!” he blurted pointing to her featureless crotch.

“Nope, sorry, cyborg. I needed a full body conversion, but between the cost to travel to Japan to have it done and everything else... I couldn't afford the anatomically correct body. I do normally wear bottoms, but some how I lost them in the water, so here I am trying to replace them...”

Morgan Wasser stood on the side walk outside Shuster Hall, a late arrival to the 2007-2008 Whateley school year. She'd been to see the headmistress already and now all she was doing was waiting for her tour guide and to be show her cottage.

A girl wearing a buck skin dress hurried up with a grin on her face. “Hi, are you Morgan? I'm Kay...”

Morgan's spirit shuddered and she 'voged' out, revealing the shape of the beast that lived within her. Kay came to a screeching halt, a wicked looking knife appearing in her hand as a large bison also appeared from thin air.

“Mishibijiw.” the girl spat dropping into a combat crouch as the bison scuffed the ground, his head down.

Morgan's spirit, who she called Missy, bristled, shifting her past the oddly colored cat girl stage that was their usual shared form, and allowing the copper spines along their back and tail stood on end as their claws flexed. She could feel the curved horns jutting from the side of their head. “Ptesanwi.” she felt Missy snarly though their shared lips. “We seek to do you no harm, but if you banish us from the one we have chosen or try to steal our spines...”

The girl, Ptesawi, and the bison blinked and exchanged looks for a few moments. The large hairy beast raised his wide nose and sniffed the air. “They do not carry the dark one's taint as the one you encountered last year did.” The bison said in English, though he still gave us the stink eye. “Though why a water panther would bond to one not of the Nations...”

“I chose to bond with this one for my own reasons.” Missy replied as the pair shifted back to their human form. Morgan shook their head and took control of their mouth. “Missy saved me when a European spirit that had been preying on children tried to take me. Her bonding with me was unexpected, but we find we suit each other despite my lack of native blood.”

“So you've got superpowers now, cuz.”

“Yep! It happened yesterday." Miss Powerful told her slightly older cousin. “Isn't it awesome! I can lift Mom's car!”

Her cousin looked a little bummed out, and began playing with her colourful patchwork skirt. “I didn't think my little cousin would able to beat up supervillains. What am I going to do?”

“Ah don't be like that. You're still super cool. Now that I'm Miss Powerful, I'm going to need a sidekick. You want the job? Just think Miss Powerful and -” she stopped suddenly. “We're going to need a cool name for you.”

“If you call me Alfred, Robin, or Olsen, I'll find a way to kill you. Just so there's no misunderstandings or anything,” her cousin said.

“How about... Rainbow Girl!”

“Yeah... NO!”

“Fun Time Girl!”

“Don't make me hurt you. And if you ever call me that, I WILL hurt you.”

“Girl Wonder!”

“No.”

“Princess Heroic! You used to use that name all the time.”

“When we were children. How about I be the brains behind the operation?”

“Oh, then I can call you Q or Professor! Terrific!”

Domoviye wrote: “So you've got superpowers now, cuz.”


“When we were children. How about I be the brains behind the operation?”

“Oh, then I can call you Q or Professor! Terrific!”

How about Professor Sunshine?

“Hey Michelle, what's going on?” Samantha asked, propping the phone between her head and shoulder so she could keep reading the email, a bowl of cheap instant noodles was open and long since cold on the side of the desk.

“Missing you Sam. You haven't been down in over three months. The only way I knew you were still alive was the last bank transfer you sent me. Thanks for that, it helped pay for my new car.”

“I'm sorry, I miss you to but I'm so busy with everything and business is going really well. I made up matching necklaces and bracelets for a bride and all five of her brides maids, and I had to do a white gold tiara for the bride.”

“Jesus! You must be rolling in it.”

“I wish,” Samantha groaned. “That paid off my parents, you and the other girls, and a teeny, tiny, insignificant part of the bank. The only meat I've eaten for months has been hot dogs. Chicken hot dogs. I'm tempted to set up a few mouse traps for meat that isn't processed garbage.”

“Yuck! I'll send you a couple of steaks for your birthday. Any hope that you'll get real food soon?”

“Yeah, I've been talking with this really weird guy on the net.”

“What have I told you about talking to strange men on the net? Don't you remember Francois?”

“Ugh, don't remind me,” she groaned. “Anyways, he's got this really hideous gem he wants to put on a choker. But it has to be done in a certain way, and he keeps changing the design. If he emailed me more than three times a month, and didn't promise to pay three quarters upfront as soon as we decide on a design, I'd have dropped him long ago.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“I could buy a new car with the advance.”

Mind Over Matter sipped his coffee, he wasn't in Kansas City or on patrol, so he wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his winter coat by his side, while his powers made everyone ignore the table. Rose sat across from him, her fingers moved rapidly fixing a few little gadgets that needed a tune up.

“How are your parents?” he asked.

“It's ridiculous. I keep trying to do bigger and bigger things, and nothing. I took a design off the net for an automated lawn mower and created robot that would plow the driveway and sidewalk whenever there's more than 1 inch of snow. And what happens, they say good work. Nothing else! I threatened to create a gadget that would cut power to every appliance in the house whenever I left, unless they took me for powers testing. Do you know what they said?” she asked.

“Not a chance.”

“Exactly. Do you know where I can find someone to give me a third eye or something?”

He leaned in using his power to put out a calming aura, nothing that would do much more than a bit of incense and relaxing music. “You're doing a good job of keeping a handle on things. You're dealing with the bullies and your friends, not getting into trouble, and haven't caused any accidents. Who cares if your parents are in denial. As long as you keep doing what you're doing, when you're a bit older and have your own car you can come to Kansas city and get your MID with no hassles.”

She slumped down. “I just keep thinking something is going to happen and they're going to arrest me and throw away the key. I was thinking the only thing I'd ever have to worry about would be speeding tickets when I got old enough to buy a car, and maybe getting a little drunk and having my parents find out. Now I've got to watch out for all kinds of stuff, and my parents are just making it worse.”

“It's not that bad, Rose. Once you leave for college you'll be able to fly under the radar, get a job as an engineer or something, make millions of dollars and you can do whatever you want.”

“I know. I just wish I could get some more support. It's tough sometimes feeling so different and having my parents refuse to see it,” she muttered.

“So Kayda, what are you planning on doing for Halloween?” Punch asked as she hung up her own costume in the closet.

Kayda let out a sigh. “Yeah I do, but it wasn't my idea. Clover was reading Tatanka Tall Tales the other week. He was working in private sessions with the Three...” she shook her head. “You'll have to wait and see, they want it to be a surprise. I'm just worried that this will blow up in my face.”

~
October 31st

Kayda gingerly stepped into the auditorium, ducking under the door's header, Tatanka right beside her. She felt weird wearing the blue jeans and red flannel shirt, not to mention the fact that the Three Little Witches had worked out a spell that replicated the effects of size warping. She would have settled for a glamour that made her look taller, but no that wasn't good enough. At least she was armed, though it was not the tomahawk she preferred but a heavy headed chopping ax.

“so who are you supposed to be?” Jimmy T, or so the name badge said as Angela Lansbury certainly didn't look like Jimmy T, asked looking up at Kayda.

“Babe the big blue bison and his human Paula Bunyan.” A larger then he'd ever grown Tanaka rumbled, his fur colored Smurf blue, a smirk on his muzzle.

“OK, this really is hideous,” Samantha said looking at the ugly brown, cracked and distorted cats eye. The flaws in the centre of the cats eye made her think it was winking at her.

She seriously considered sending the thing back to the client. In the year it had taken to seal the deal, going through twenty different designs in the process, she was out of debt, even if she was still only up to regularly eating hot dogs, actual pork instead of chicken ones. So she didn't need the money desperately. But how the client talked about the project had intrigued her. The fact that her fridge was full of real food and she could afford to buy a car that wasn't threatening to fall apart if she sneezed too hard on it was another reason to do the job quickly and move on.

Sighing, she put the cats eye in the special safe that had been installed the day before as per instructions. “Way too much work for a single ugly stone. And a choker? Dear god, what woman would want that thing around her neck.”

Rachael gave her a silent apology before rushing away. Marni didn't blame her, it wasn't safe to be around her anymore. No one was stupid enough to attack her, but that didn't stop them from harassing her friends, or pulling pranks. Her locker, which was already covered in anti-mutant graffiti that the school was refusing to paint over after having to do it ten times already, was now ripped open. Even better red paint was splashed inside, covering her books, her windbreaker and her gym clothes.

She knew from previous experience that the school would never find the person who did it.

Walking towards the office to report the vandalism, everyone got out of her way. She had never felt so alone.

Simon DeVille, a name as good as any other that he used, dropped onto a much abused stool at his favorite pub, that was close to the home office, thankful to be back in London if only for a brief while. While he reveled in the complexity of juggling the various identities he wore, doing Covington missions where the pits. The rumors of what that identity could do was hard to live up to even for him, and he had his criminal past to fall back on. He had no idea how the Honorable Lords who went into the game managed to pull it off. Ok so technically he was an Honorable Lord now, but Simon didn't think of himself in that way as he con man who's long game left him comfortably in the upper crust of society before the War. In his mind he was still just an orphan who was good at manipulating people, who thrilled at taking bigger and better risks with a goal in mind.

A pint landed with a thump in front of him. “Simon, good to see you are still among the living. First is on the house.”

Simon looked up and flashed the man a tired grin. “Mac! I'd heard you managed to get out on a medical.”

“Mostly. They got me teaching what I can to a mix of Irregulars and Gents. You know the noble type won't last more then a week in the field if they didn't get the easy assignments. No offense meant to you.” Mac hastily added.

“None taken. You where saying?”

“Anyway as payment the office authorized one of those Mad types they got working to counter the Nazi's weird shit fit me with a new leg. Works a treat even if it is a bit to heavy, clumsy, and maintenance intensive for use in the field. Still I can walk again, so I ain't complaining.” the former spy replied slapping his right leg which reverberated with a metallic clang. Simon leaned over the bar to goggle at the appendage.

“Motion powered, bronze clock-working and steel plating...” Mac said tapping it again. “hurt like hell when he attached it to my stump.”

“I'll bet.” Simon replied sipping the pint then grimacing at the taste. “this horse piss?”

“Sorry. Supplies been a bit low, else I wouldn't be serving it. Most of the good stuff I had stashed got liberated for the high muckety types in the army. Said that the likes of us didn't deserve to drink it.”

Simon stood slowly a grimace on his face. “Really? Men who come back from the field with a need to steady their nerves after sneaking in and out of occupied territory don't deserve a good drink? I think not. Now tell me, who might know where they are storing the barrels and bottles? And how many of the crew are in town?”

12 September 2007

OK, so no one here was entirely sure how Cyberkitty got to be the new club president, but no one in the room - or conferencing through a monitor - could argue that she was the best coder and cracker in the room, bar none. Well, that, and she was a lot cuter than Tinkertrain or Wunderkind. Still, if it bothered any of the upperclassmen, they didn't say anything.

"OK, let's start the first session of the year for the '133t," Paige said assertively, "Let's start by talking about the club name."

Wirewalker sighed, loudly and deliberately. "Not this crap again..."

"I mean it! Come on, "133t"? That may have been cool in Ms. Hartford's day, but now it just makes us sound like dorks."

"We are dorks," interjected Maze from his monitor.

"Yeah, but no one's gonna take us seriously with such a stupid name," said Ringo, though it wasn't as if Paige needed defending. The name is dorky.

"So what do you have in mind?" I added.

"I think we should go back to the original name. Get in touch with the club's roots, right?"

"Double-You-Tee-Eff? You think '133t is dorky, but you want to use 'International Brotherhood of Magicians'?"

Yeah, Tink said it exactly like that. What an idiot. No wonder she and Flashbang always get caught at shit.

"I thought it was 'Insidious Black Magic'," said Wirewalker, looking up at the picture of the club's founder and first faculty advisor, Alan Kotok .

Legend says - and with these old-time hackers it's all legends - that Dr. Alexander lured Mr. Kotok (now Dr. Kotok, no wait, he died last year, right?), the school's first computer science teacher/system administrator, away from DEC in 1967 with a promise to buy and support no less than four (whoopie) of the brand-new PDP-10 mainframes, hot-shit machines that Kotok had a hand in designing so I guess it was kind of stroking his ego. As one of the founding fathers of hackerdom, he must have thought that helping the students back then form a club like the TMRC back at MIT was the best way to keep the spirit alive. Apparently, Kotok thought that the "Insidious Black Magicians" gag was funny (I.B.M., get it? lame...), but not everyone agreed so it kind of went by a few different names over the years.

On the gripping hand, though, he did manage to get Whateley one of the first ARPAnet nodes just before his sabbatical here ended, and the first that wasn't a major university or consultancy, so the school was ahead of things almost from the start. Go us.

I came back out of my reverie to find that the motion had passed. Oh, crap...

3 March 1983
Montréal–Dorval Airport

As the setbelt sign turned off and the other passengers started getting their carry-on luggage, Raul reached into his pocket to get his sunglasses. The unfairness of it all came back to Raul as he put his sunglasses back on, turning away from the aisle so others couldn't see the unnatural indigo of his eyes.

He knew he was a mutant, all the kids in his school knew about it, but didn't seem to have any actual powers. And now, just days after he learned about it, he was on his way to grandpere Raul's funeral. Once again, he wondered if it was the news that his grandson was a mutant that had caused his heart attack. He knew it wasn't true, but the fact that his grandfather had died just around the same time that he noticed his eyes had changed, over a two hundred kilometers apart, shook him to the core, though it did occur to him that if he'd been properly at home in Manitoba when it happened, the distance would have been even greater.

His father hadn't been able to get out of his parlimentary duties, something to do with Dr. Diabolik's recent raid on Winnapeg - at least it didn't spill into the suburbs, he thought, he'd be crushed if anything happened to his home - and his mother was already in Mercier because of Grandpa Raul's illness, so he was flying alone for the first time. He could hear the mix of English and the somewhat less familiar French bubbling around him, but he wasn't interested in listening in. However, it reminded him that he'd better start getting used to speaking in French again; grandmere never much approved of speaking English (or Portuguese, for that matter, as she always took grandfather to task when his childhood habits arose), and he suspected she didn't approve of his father, either. The fact that he had risen to be an MP - a minor back-seat MP, but still - only seemed to make her more suspicious of him. He felt a bit self-conscious of his poor speaking skills, especially given the way his Parisian-born French teacher would berate him for his Quebecois accent and 'colonial habits of speech', but he guiltily hoped that grandma was too distraught to notice this time.

As he walked down the gangway, he could see his mother and grandmother at the end of the hallway. He walked briskly towards them, giving Ma a hug and a kiss before doing the same to his grandmother.

But then, as he embraced her, his head began to swim, and a cold chill overcame him. He backed in horror, and in English said, "Grandmother, your, in your chest, there's..." he shook violently, and pointed towards the small ball of... something he could somehow feel over her heart.

"Speak properly, child," she retorted in French, "What are you talking about?"

Mastering himself, he answered in the same language, "There's... when I touched you, I could feel, there's some, some kind of, you need to see a doctor immediately! I could feel it, it's a lump, right there..."

His mother and grandmother stared at him in confusion just before he passed out.

Candler Mansion, Atlanta, Georgia
17 April 1983

Bo Candler tugged nervously at the bow tie his mother had made him wear for church that morning, peeking around the corner before surreptitiously opening the door to his late grandfather's study to sneak in. He hated the way he was expected to dress, almost as much as he hated the awful name Beauregard Mason Candler, but he couldn't admit that to his Ma, no matter what. He had been feeling strange for weeks, both physically and emotionally, but he never told anyone about it because he was ashamed of how he was thinking and feeling.

After all, family honor was at stake.

He idly wondered if he was a fairy. That would be bad; he knew that no one had spoken to his uncle Raymond for years after he'd left for San Francisco, no one went to his funeral last January, no one even spoke his name. Bo knew that he had died of something terrible, but no one wanted to say what; he could only guess that it was that new Gay disease, AIDS, which was always on the news lately, but no one wanted to talk about it.

Or maybe he was a mutant, like Asa and Sophie. That would be almost as bad, but at least they hadn't been kicked out of the family like Ray was. His older siblings did have to go to some school in the North, way off in New Hampshire, but at least they weren't treated like strangers. Asa was even working for Coca-Cola as a chemist, the first member of the family to work for the company that the family fortune was built on in three generations, and spoke excitedly about designing new soft drinks for them.

Closing the door behind him, he started scanning the old library shelves for the book he wanted. Finally, he found the book he wanted, an old leather-bound printing of Hamlet from the turn of the century.

His mother was in love with Shakespeare, and in love with her new videocassette player, too. Last night, she had cajoled him and Sophie (home for a break) into watching an older film version of the play, the one with Sr Laurence Olivier in it. Sophie didn't sit still through it, like usual, preferring to speed off somewhere, but much to his surprise, Bo found it fascinating. The part that really stuck out was the character of Hamlet's girlfriend, Ofeeya or something like that (he had missed the credits at the beginning so he wasn't sure how it was spelled). Opening the book, he quickly read through it, not realizing how fast he was going, until he got to the third scene, where Laertes (another strange name) was preparing to leave. There he saw it: Ophelia.

His heart quickened, remembering how strange the name seemed, even stranger than Beauregard, but it was such a pretty name, too. If he were a girl, he'd want a name that pretty.

He pushed the thought aside. There were some things you didn't dare admit to wishing for, not even to yourself.

Remembering how sad the story was in the film, he started crying for the poor, waifish girl torn apart by her love of her brother and her betrothed, driven to madness and suicide. He wiped away his tears and returned to reading, eager to see how the story really went.

Berne, Switzerland
11 November 1953

"Please don't take this personally, Simon. Or perhaps I should call you Sean Causewell?"

What was left of my hair bristled at hearing my original name for the first time in decades. "I don't know, should I call you Shlomo?"

Sidney seemed just as put out by his own given name, shifting the pistol in his hand. "I'd rather you didn't. I expect you know why I am here, then."

"I'm guessing it's the connection we've cultivated with the Gehlenapparat. Can't say I blame you for it, I wasn't too comfortable getting in bed with a bunch of ex-Nazis but I could hardly afford to pass up an opportunity, wot?"

"Actually, it has to do more with the likes of The Network. Surely you can see the trouble that's causing people." Despite the chatty amiability of the conversation, I couldn't help but worry about the long-dead man, now somehow returned to youthfulness, who was here in my own office to assassinate me. I resigned myself to the fact that he was just that much better than I was, especially now in my old age. Reilly had been my own mentor once, after all, and seeing how he was somehow younger than he was even in 1915, I knew I didn't stand a chance.

Oddly, the thought that it was Armistice Day came to mind. I guess some wars never do end.

"Sorry old chap, much as I would like to talk over old times, I really do need to get on with this. You've built a rather impressive system here, and while certain... interests I am party to applaud your work, MI-6 has asked my group to send a message to the people who support you. As much as they would have preferred to smash your school to the ground, I am afraid that this the most we can do right now. Goodbye, Simon." With that, he leveled the gun at my head and fired.

“Hi Rose, how are you doing?” Mind Over Matter called from down the the street..

“Pretty good, but uh, why are you here? And who's the lady in the silver dress?” Rose asked as she jogged over to the costumed hero. She was so used to Mind's powers keeping them unnoticed she didn't worry that they were talking in the middle of the busy street.

“This is Witch Mabel, she's helping me out with a possible mutant criminal. Mabel, this is Rose, the girl I told you about.”

“Hello, Rose. You've made a very good impression on Mind,” the woman said, smiling pleasantly her chubby cheeks were bright red in the cold.

Rose knew she'd seen the hero before, there weren't many chubby, older women who looked almost ready to be a grandmother acting as a hero. Then it clicked. “Hey I know you, you and your team got your asses kicked- Uh... I mean... it's nice to meet you.”

Mind hit his forehead with his palm, while Mabel turned even redder as she said, “It's a pleasure to meet you to. My team and I aren't very martially oriented, but we do try our best.”

“Yeah, I've heard you guys have a great anti-bullying program. Uh, I've got to get going now, lunch break is almost over for school and I don't want to be late for math class. Good luck with everything, it was really nice meeting you Witch Mabel,” Rose said hurriedly.

As she headed back to school, she shook her head in embarrassment. “Good going Rose, insult the second hero you've ever met.” Still she had to admit it really wasn't her fault, Witch Mabel and her team were most often seen on Youtube under the title 'curb stomped', 'humiliated' and 'how not to be a hero'.

“Ready?” Miss Powerful asked her cousin.

“Are you sure no will come in here?”

“Yes I'm sure. I asked the gym teacher really nicely to let me use it after school. Although I may have accidentally signed myself up for the end of year talent show. You're suppose to be teaching me how to dance,” she said.

“You and I only know ballroom dancing, do you have a partner?” her cousin asked.

“Yeah, not really. That could be a problem,” Miss Powerful admitted. “Anyways, I figured this was a great place to practice some things and I wanted you here to see just how cool this is.”

“And to watch the door right?”

“Would you be so kind?” she asked, giving her best puppy dog impression.

“What are best friends for?”

She hugged her fourteen year old cousin, careful to control her strength so that she didn't break any ribs or leave bruises. “Thank you! Now I think I might be able to fly, watch me.”

Going to the middle of the gym, she did some stretches, then with a look of concentration ran five steps and jumped. Her cousin watched in amazement as she went ten feet into the air and landed almost thirty feet away.

“ISN'T THAT COOL!!!!”

“Wow!”

“OK I'm going to try to reach the other end of the gym now.” Closing her eyes, she tried to visualize herself flying. She thought it would be a lot like swimming, only drier. Filling her lungs with air, she ran as fast as she could and threw herself into the sky. Looking down she saw the ground far below, at which point her every instinct screamed that she was going to fall and break every bone in her body. Her stomach began to churn.

On the ground her cousin screamed and ran, barely escaping the foul smelling mess that hit the ground, followed a second later by Miss Powerful.

“OW!” Miss Powerful said, holding her head which she had cleverly used to help soften her landing.

“Are you alive?” Her cousin called from the door of the gym office.

“Yes. Ow.”

“OK. I'll get a mop, while you hit the showers.”

“Ow. Can you help me up?” Miss Powerful asked, holding up a dripping hand.

“Um....” the older girl said looking carefully at the foul smelling muck covering the budding superhero. “No. You're super tough now, you'll survive.”

“Traitor! You're no longer my sidekick!”

OK, this is an older non-WA story - not exactly fanfic, but whatever - that I had started about 11 years ago and just rediscovered. I thought some of you might enjoy the fragment I managed to write.

Sue for Peace
by Schol-R-LEA;2
2005:07:07

I was coming back from a Mysterious Informant gig - I did it up right, the whole Deep Throat schtick in the underground garage, keeping my face hidden in shadow and everything - and once I was sure I wasn't being tailed, I did a Scene Change into some more comfortable clothes and decided to take a walk around Lake Merritt before going home. Near the corner of 20th, however, I happened to notice a young girl with long, radiant black hair and a glowingly smooth pale complexion. She wore red and gold robes and an expression of innocent bewilderment. Now, this wasn't that unusual in Oakland, especially the Oakland in my home Ficton; but the sheer perfection of her appearance set off warning bells in my head. If she's not a Mary Sue, I thought, then I'll eat my fedora. Somewhere along the line, I had wandered into another Author's story.

OK, that's not to big a deal, really. As an Authorial Avatar myself - a Marty Stu, to you real-world folks - I had no place complaining about other chara's business, and while I don't come and go quite as easily as some of my Author's charas, I figured there had to be some way back to my own Fandom. Still, there seemed something out of place about the kid.

Suddenly it clicked: the robes were from Hogwarts, the school in the Harry Potter Ficton. Whoever this kid was, she was a long way from home, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of story would have a teenage witch from Great Britain wandering a major city in Northern California. A bad one, was the obvious answer that leapt to mind. However, rather than risk interfering in a Plot (I'm willing to give the writer the benefit of the doubt, here), I decided to do what I do best - skulk around on the edges of things and watch events unfold.

“Rose, we're going to California for your aunts wedding at the end of November,” her mom said excitedly. “We'll have to take you out of school for a week, but your grades are so good now it won't matter.”

“We're driving right?” Rose asked.

“Drive all the way there!” her mother exclaimed. “Are you kidding. We'll take a plane.”

“But Mom, I can't take a plane. Everyone knows that I'm a mutant, if the MCO finds out I could be arrested.”

The smile dropped from her mom's face. “It's been over a year now, why are you still going on about that foolish fantasy? You are perfectly ordinary.”

“YEAH RIGHT!” she shouted. “That's why we haven't had to replace a single thing in this house since I manifested! Why I can fix some of Mind's gadgets without even knowing what they are until I'm opening them up!"

“We TOLD you not to talk to that man!”

“He's the only person I can talk to! He at least listens to me!”

“GO TO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW!”

“I'm NOT getting on that plane until the MCO says if I'm a mutant or not! I won't go to jail because you're too stupid to see what's right in front of you!” she screamed.

“YOU ARE NOT A MUTANT! YOU WILL COME TO THE WEDDING! AND THERE IS NO CHANCE YOU'LL GO TO THE MCO!”

“GO TO HELL!” she screamed, running out of the house.

And poof her mother was gone.

She ran through the dark forest. Sniffing the air, her ears twitched, the prey and the enemy was close. So close. Opening her mouth, she tasted the scent, a mix of blood, death and meat. Her stomach rumbled. That was good a hungry hunter was the best.

Climbing into a tree, using the low branches to help, avoiding any claw marks that the prey would notice she moved like a shadow. Symbols written in white covered her torso, glowing dimly in the moonlight, making her unnatural body appear even more unearthly.

A man wearing the iron studded leather armour of his people appeared, holding an iron sword at the ready. Trophies that smelled of blood hung from his waist. More men followed him, spears, axes, and knives, each covered in blood, runes and talisman ready to kill. They were looking for her village, to steal, rape and slaughter, like they had done to the neighbouring villages.

They were looking along the ground, watching for traps and ambushes, they didn't look upwards.

With a roar she pounced on them, claws extended for the kill.

Samantha woke up snarling, tasting blood in her mouth, her heart racing.

Taking a drink from the glass of water on the nightstand, she wiped the sweat from her brow. Something cool touched her skin. Looking at her hand, she saw the ugly cats eye pressed so tightly into her palm it looked like it was part of her skin.

“Again,” she moaned in disbelief. She was going to have to handcuff herself to the bed if this kept up. Grumbling, wondering if she could just send the cursed thing back, she made her way down to her store several floors below, typed in multiple codes and used several keys to open the inside door, and placed the thing in its safe.

“Now stay there!” she ordered the stone, while the light made it seem to wink mockingly at her.

The bell signalling the end of lunch went off. Marni watched as everyone who was eating under the trees went inside. At the furthest end of the school grounds she just sat there, not moving.

She didn't know why she went to class anymore. Everyone ignored her, she took notes, did her homework and read the textbook, with no one talking to her, looking at her, or even bullying her. She thought that she might be able to run around naked and no one would say anything.

Her mom had dropped out of or was dropped from everyone of her groups. Dad had gotten into a couple of fights when he went to the bar with his few remaining friends. Their business was losing money, Mom was usually up half the night trying to make the numbers work to keep things going, while her Dad tried to find jobs outside of the county where they didn't know she was a mutant. Her brother was in fights almost every day.

She looked out over the town she called home. Had called home, it didn't want her anymore.

No one was outside now. Even the teacher who made sure everyone headed inside had taken one look at her and walked away.

Marni made up her mind. Emptying her bag of everything except the energy bars and her phone she headed for the nearest bank machine. She'd take her money and leave.

It would be better for everyone.

Open Whateley-style!
Whateley-style!

Ninja teams show up while we're in our pajamas
Cocky bastards, kick their asses, Pumpkin we will jam 'em
And as they flee across our campus, right then we will pluck 'em
Like a banjo up from Georgia!

With prehensile hair
Check my pulse and my blood pressure, with prehensile hair
Copy notes on your clipboard now with prehensile hair
Hook me up to anesthetics with prehensile hair
Lush prehensile hair

I'm oooon a table innnnside a room in Doyle, hey!
A room in Doyle, hey!
I'm oooon a table innnnside a room in Doyle, hey!
A room in Doyle, hey!

With a magic sword they start to operate -ate -ate -ate -a-a-a-a-a-a-a
Open Whateley-style!

Whateley-style!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!
Whateley-style!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!

Ehhhh, get my surgery!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!
Ehhhh, appendectomy!
Op- op- op- op- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh-

A blind kid struts his stuff upon the mats of Ito's dojo
If he wasn't wearing robot suit, those threads he's got would blind ya
Got hit by girl with cartoon hair, one-fifty miles per hour
Could have died, but, now he'll date her!

Yellow dinosaur
From the outback of Australia, yellow dinosaur
Plays guitar loud in the basement, yellow dinosaur
Robo-voice like Stephen Hawking, yellow dinosaur
Yellow dinosaur

I'm aaaat a table innnnside the Crystal Hall, hey!
The Crystal Hall, hey!
I'm aaaat a table innnnside the Crystal Hall, hey!
The Crystal Hall, hey!

Aim my raygun at this jar of PBJ J J J JJJJJJJJJJJJ
Open Whateley-style!

Whateley-style!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!
Whateley-style!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!

Ehhhh, want my marmalade!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!
Ehhhh, it's chokecherry made!
Op- op- op- op- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh-

Tatanka comes, there's tea for everyone
Baby baby, 'round the fire we all nom nom
Bison crumbs, steak sauce on our thumbs
Baby baby, 'round the fire we all nom nom

You know what I'm saying?

Open Whateley-style!
Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh-

Ehhhh, try this barbecue!
Op- op- op- op- Open Whateley-style!
Ehhhh, open wide and chew!
Op- op- op- op- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh- Eh-
Open Whateley-style!

“How long until we reach L.A.?” Marni asked the trucker.

“A few more hours,” he responded. “So you really have your brother waiting there for you?”

“Yeah. He told me to visit him if our mom got too much to handle.”

“It's nice to have family. Do you need a pit stop?” he asked, pulling into a deserted little rest area.

“Nah, I'm good. But don't worry about me, take all the time you need,” she said, shifting her dark sunglasses to scratch her nose.

They both undid their seatbelts, and while the trucker climbed into the little bed that was behind the seats to grab something she slouched down in her seat trying to think of what she would do once she hit LA. She'd run away without really thinking things through and she'd managed to hitch a ride an hour ago. There hadn't been much thought involved except to help her family in the only way she could.

She screamed as large hands grabbed her under the arms and dragged her out of the seat into the back of the cab.

“Stay quiet girl,” the trucker said, in what might have been a soothing voice. “We're going to have a bit of fun, and then I'll drive you anywhere you want. If you want, you can stay with me as long as you like. I'll make sure you're safe and cared for.

“LET ME GO!” she shouted.

“The first time is always a bit rough. Just l-”

She flexed her muscles and slapped him across the face. She could have punched him, her dad had taught her how, but that would have killed him. The slap was enough to knock him off of her. He hit the side of the cab, his cheek an ugly red, rapidly turning green and blue from a bruise, he stared at her in shock and pain, spitting out teeth and blood.

Powering down, she was just as shocked. She'd hurt him with her powers. The MCO was going to come after her now. They'd call her a supervillain and the Knights of Purity would hunt her down. They'd kill her. She had to get away.

“GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!” she shouted, her mind working in overdrive.

“Wha'?” he slurred.

“YOU'RE MONEY! ALL OF IT! AND YOUR PHONE!”

He threw his wallet and phone at her, trying not to get too close. She took the cash out, broke the phone, grabbed her things and jumped out. She hopped back in a second later, grabbed the keys from the ignition and threw them as far as she could. Flexing her muscles, she began running. She just had to run for a few minutes and then she could try to get another ride. It would take him a while to get a hold of the police. She just needed to get a ride before they came looking for her.

Biting back tears she left a trail of dust behind her.

“But Mind I don't want to go to jail,” Rose said into the phone.

“Rose, you don't look different from a baseline. While people in your hometown know you're a mutant, no one else does. Just bring a good book and no tools, you'll be fine,” the hero replied.

She knew Mind Over Matter was right, but she was terrified that something would go wrong and she'd end up in jail for life. Or disappear like she'd heard had happened to other mutant kids. “But what if something goes wrong?” she asked.

There was a long pause. “You're really scared about this?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I'll phone the MCO here in Kansas City to set up a powers testing appointment. It will probably be on a weekday, do you think you can get out of school without your parents knowing?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I thought it might be useful, so I learned how to forge their signatures.”

There was another, longer, pause. “All right than, I'll make the arrangements.”

“What was that Wendy?” Samantha asked her part time sales clerk.

“It's closing time. I'm going to lock up and take off,” the college student said.

“What? But it's only four o'clock... isn't it?”

“It's six thirty. You said something about doing work in the back and asked if I wanted anything for supper, you haven't left your office since then.”

“Oh god! I'm so sorry, I meant to pick you up something but this project got the better of me,” she said.

“No problem, I got a bite to eat before coming to work. Those little blue quartz rings are doing well, I sold five of them to a group of high school girls, I think they're becoming a local trend.”

She was stalking something through a field of grass. The prey was straight ahead, too busy with its kill to notice her. She silently purred in pleasure.

The blood of the antelope filled her nostrils. Leaping out of the grass she saw the man with his back towards her. He spun inhumanly fast on his heels knocking her out of the air with his spear. Dropping it, he pounced on top of her before she could regain her feet. They rolled along the ground, roaring and cursing.

Finally she was on top of him, straddling his waist. Bending down she kissed him. A purr of pleasure was shared between them. His fingers traced the brands that had been burned onto her body.

“SAM!” Wendy shouted, snapping her fingers. “You spaced out for a moment. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Sorry. Too much work. Have a nice night. Do you come in tomorrow?”

“Yeah it's payday tomorrow, remember?”

“Right, right, right, I remember. I remember. Have a nice night. I have to get back to work.”

With a worried backwards glance Wendy went to finish closing up. Samantha went back to her office/workroom which was covered in half drawn designs, uneaten bags of fast food, and pictures of other times and places.

Sitting down she took her tools and with glazed eyes went to work.

Bardue bellowed in his usual subtle style, “TEAM KIMBA! You have ten minutes ONLY to cross roughly six miles of unknown terrain and attack a hilltop fortress with unknown defenses! There is a baseline opponent in the castle you MUST stop before the ten minutes are up! You may use any level of force necessary to stop said opponent before he launches nuclear missiles from U.S. silos thousands of miles away! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?!”

A voice blared from the loudspeakers in the cubicles, “Team Kimba, you’re all ready to go. Please close sim helmets and begin. You’ll have exactly ten minutes from the second you appear in the sim.”

Lancer looked around, the terrain was a bit different from last time, but that was to be expected. He looked at Tennyo and Generator and said, "Just like we planned. Go!"

Tennyo took off straight up rotating so she could get a view of everything around her. It wouldn't surprise her that their target was behind them.

Generator reached into her purse and pulled out a bolt wrapped in several pieces of nanowire. They were her longest pieces, well suited to her purposes. She tossed the bolt to Lancer, and looked up at Tennyo.

Lancer caught the bolt and looked up at Tennyo, when he could make out which way she was pointing he whispered, "Hold on," and threw the bolt at the mountain he couldn't see.

Jann, Jasmine, Julie, and Jamie held on to the bolt as Lancer threw it. Screams of delight would have been heard if they had speaker disks.As soon as they saw the mountain, Jann began steering at it, she didn't have much time, fortunately Lancer's aim wasn't that far off.

The bolt impacted the mountain unnoticed and the J-Team let it go and began looking for the terrorist. It didn't take them long to find the control room. They surveyed the room from up near the ceiling, Jann pointing out targets for fellow selfs. A few moments later technicians at computer workstations, and the leader found themselves subjected to nearly invisibles garrotes.

“Hello Generator,” the overly-cheerful computer voice said. “Welcome back. It is Thursday, February, 1st, 2007. It is now 10:31 am. Your team is the victor.”

Gunny Bardue looked at Sam and said, "What the HELL just happened there?"

Sam paused as she ran what she had watched again. As she was about to tell Gunny her theory, an angry Caitlin stomped in.

"Damn that Generator," Catlin groused. "She sent in some nanowire and garroted me and some of my minions."

Have you ever wished you had a nicer house? One with a cheery fireplace, cushy furniture, and plenty of space to accommodate all your friends and family? Well, stop wishing and apply today for Princess Jobe's Home Serum, and we will make the home of your dreams your new reality.

July 2022
Dreamspace of the Ptesanwi

Kayda shook her head. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Let me find the others so we can break the news." The teenage girl seated on the log next to her nodded in agreement. She was clad in a traditional buckskin dress, a feather dangling from her braided hair. As the shaman stood up, her wife emerged from a nearby teepee, carrying a rock and several gourd cups. The two embraced before Kayda strode into the moonlit night.

Over the next few minutes, several figures emerged from the darkness. June Franks was the first to arrive. As she stepped into the light of the campfire, the seated girl stood up to embraced the figure. June was the first to speak. "Brenda! I didn't know you could dreamwalk. Kayda said you had news for us."

The girl nodded. "I didn't know until tonight either. How long does it usually take for sis to find everyone?"

"Depends on whether people are dreaming. Kayda knows our dreamspaces well. She's been visiting them since before you were born."

The conversation was interrupted when a familiar pair of arms wrapped around June's waist from behind. "Hey there love. I came as quick as I could."

Brenda was the first to respond. "Hey dad! Quite the place Kayda has here."

Pete dropped a kiss on his wife's cheek before releasing her. "It really is. In a way, it's almost a second home.“

Deborah spoke from her place by the fire. "I wonder what Danny and Whinape are up to tonight? If I'm lucky, I'll have time to heat the water before they get here."

June quirked an eyebrow at the statement. "How are your essence gathering exercises going? Kayda has mentioned the amount of concentration they require."

Deborah shrugged. "I don't feel like I'm making any progress, but supposedly I am. I doubt I'll ever light my well, but the tea just tastes better when I make it the same way she does."

Brenda narrowed her eyes as she stared across the fire. "Essence gathering is all mental, right? Your belief in the power of our traditional medicine is solid, particularly for one not of the nations."

"It's hard to doubt the power when it has saved your life on more than one occasion."

"It stands to reason that if you believe in the power of this type of magic, your belief will make it easier for you to practice it."

The idle conversation ended shortly after Deborah moved the stone from the edge of the fire into a large gourd. A familiar voice called out, "Honey, I'm home!" In a slightly strained tone. A moment later, Danny slinked through the ring of teepees, followed by his sister and Wihanape in her bipedal form.

As they settled next to the fire, Kayda gave her lifemate a hug and an approving nod. She stared into the flickering flames for a long moment before sighing. "I can't think of a delicate way to put this, so I might as well be direct. We have a new family member, and it wouldn't be fair to Brenda to make her do the introductions. Come on out here."

A few moments later, a small four-legged creature slipped out from a teepee. It crawled to logs surrounding the fire before shifting. The dark-furred form with white stripes on its muzzle flowed upright, taking a short, stocky and definitely masculine form.

As the other family members blinked in surprise, Kayda spoke. "Everyone, this is Brenda's new spirit, Hoka. Hoka, meet June and Pete, our mother and father, and our two-spirit brother Danny."

June and Pete looked at each other before turning to stare at their eldest daughter's doppelganger. Wakan Tanka sighed and calmly gazed back at the pair. “We’ve been through this before. Would you prefer that her spirit be one of the People’s, or risk the chance of one of our enemies getting her first? I tried to find as compatible a spirit as I could. It’s not my fault that Brenda is a tomboy.”

June sighed. “I know. I’m just feeling like I’m some kind of a cosmic cat toy with all of my children’s manifestations.”

Wihanape snorted at the comment. “Don’t look at me. You have the blood of the shamen in you, and you're the one who wished about the gender of your children. It's not my fault you can't manage your essence."

As the spirits and parents talked, Danny and Kayda moved to hug their sister. Brenda was the first to speak. "What happens now?"

Kayda responded to the question. "That depends. Do you want to become a male or do you want to try to stay female? I was forced to transition thanks to my BIT, while Danny and Wihanape reached an accommodation.”

Danny interrupted. “In your heart, you know what you want. But what your heart desires and what your mind desires may not be the same thing. Further, you may not be able to get what you desire. When you manifest Hoka, you will manifest as a male, just as I manifest as a female when I manifest Wihanape. The question is the gender you assume when you aren't manifesting."

Brenda looked between her siblings. "But I like being a girl."

Danny chuckled before turning serious. "Don't knock being male until you've tried it. That said, you probably need to take care if you manifest around that time of the month. The first time it happened to me I was stuck for a week and I had to endure two exams in Doyle. That was the last time I joked about certain female issues."

Kayda added, "If you stay female, Danny's experience can give us some idea of what will probably happen. When you are not manifesting your spirit, you will probably be a rather butch female. Naturally, when you shift to your hybrid or full form, you'll be male. If you happen to be manifested when your period would have hit, you'll be stuck for the duration. While you won't have to deal with the cramping and such, you will have to deal with the fur and using the men's room."

Danny followed up on the remarks. "Something else to be aware of with an animal spirit is that you'll have that time of the year, not just that time of the month. Not fun, on either side of the fence."
Brenda furrowed her eyebrows. "How do we know if I'll change or not?"

Her sister fielded the question. "Powers testing to start. If you have a BIT, you'll probably be looking at the battle of the sexes from the other side of the fence. If not, the next major factor is how well your hollow matches your spirit. If your hollow is large enough, you can remain unchanged except when you manifest. Otherwise, you will either have to adapt or consider a more drastic option."

At this comment, her brother chimed in with, “Trust me, you don't want to fight the integration if your hollow is to small. The headaches were so bad I almost wished I was dead at times.”

Brenda frowned. "Why can't I manifest as a female badger?"

Danny hugged his sister and responded. "While some spirits have fluid genders, ours do not. The only other option is for you to separate from Hoka, an experience that will be painful for both of you. It will also be dangerous, as you don't know what sort of spirit will move into your hollow."

After a moment of silence, Deborah interrupted. "Perhaps a cup of tea would help calm everyone's nerves?"

"Kayda! What happened to you?"

"Well, you know how I said I was going through some changes and growth?"

"I thought you meant you were growing as a person!"

"Well, that too. But see, the thing is, I've got two spirits."

"Um, duh? I'm well aware that you're winkte."

"No, I mean two spirits. Ptesanwi, obviously... and also Tatanka."

"...Oh. Right. Well, I guess that explains it."

"Mmm hmm."

"Well, that's kind of- hey, is that a bird in your hair?"

"Yeah, that's Pteyahpaya. Isn't he cute?"

"Is he like a pet?"

"More like a mooch, really. He's been tagging along with me ever since my fur came in, and he, um, he..."

"Hey, speak up, you're kinda mumbling there."

"He keeps the bugs off, okay?"

"How's that work? Does he have a magic ultrasonic birdsong that repels them?"

"No, um, it's more like... he eats them?"

"Oh, that makes more- wait. So he doesn't actually repel them? So that means you've got bugs on you?"

"No! Only when I go outside, and Pteyah eats them before they build up too much."

"Don't they sell bug repellent at Whateley?"

"Yeah, but it's really bad for the environment."

"So you use a bird."

"So I use a bird. Look, it's traditional, okay?"

"No, Kayda. It is not okay. You have a bird on your head, and I'm pretty sure I just saw him eat something."

"Can we drop this?"

"Oh, hey, you know what I just realized?"

"...Do I even want to know?"

"Well, you've got white fur and a bird friend... just like Snoopy!"

"Snoopy is a dog."

"Beagle, bison, tomayto, tomahto."

"Yeah, I'm done with this conversation. Goodbye."

"Bye-bye Woodstock!~"

Rose walked towards the MCO office in Kansas City. Her parents thought she was at school, and her school thought she was out for a doctors appointment. Only Mind Over Matter and the MCO knew she was coming.

She wished she could have taken her car, she'd been fixing an old Beetle for over a month and it was almost perfect now, but it was still two weeks before she could take her driving test. So it was up to the bus and her feet to get where she was going. Looking at the message she'd gotten just over half an hour ago at the bus station again, she tried not to sigh in disappointment. 'Sorry Rose, business came up. The MCO is expecting you. I'll be their soon. Remember what I told you, no names, no details of your life. They're OK guys, but NOT your friends.'

Oh yeah, he knew how to make her feel calm.

The modest office building that didn't have any outward sign of who owned it, lay just ahead of her. Pausing to tie her shoe beside a grimy old mail box, she gritted her teeth, she needed the MID, she could do this, she forced herself to keep going. She couldn't risk getting on the plane like a regular person.

She heard a noise behind her. It was the last thing she noticed before a sharp pain ran through her body knocking her out cold.

July 2022
Dreamspace of the Ptesanwi
As Danny and Kayda tried to help their sister come to terms with her manifestation, their parents and spirits continued to talk. June snorted herself at Wihanape's comment. "What do you mean, manage my essence. I'm not a mage. I don't know the first thing about magic."

Wakan Tanka calmly responded. "How do you know you aren't a mage? Just because you haven't been taught doesn't mean you aren't one. If I'm not mistaken, you have the metagene complex, and both your mother and daughter are shamen. Have you ever tried to practice our arts?"

The expression on the elder Mrs. Frank's face shifted from mild annoyance to introspective throught. "You have a point. I guess I was just never interested in it. A belief in modern medicine and all that jazz. Perhaps... Perhaps I should go through power testing with Brenda."

Deborah spoke up from her place by the fire. "I'll call you in the morning to set up a time."

Pete shook his head slowly. "You really are serious, aren't you. I keep expecting a punchline to drop, but there doesn't seem to be one in the offering."

Wakan Tanka nodded in agreement. "Quite serious. It would be folly to try to imply that there was another avatar in your family when there wasn't, as such jokes have the potential to backfire quite easily. Such is the peril of being a supernatural entity."

After a moment of thought, Hoka chimed in, reminding the others that he was present. "Remember, finding an avatar to fill a hollow isn't a matter of calling up Avatars-R-Us and ordering a spirit out of a catalog. For an avatar to match their host, they need to similar personalities and temperaments, in addition to being the right size and shape for their host. If we were trying to play a trick on you, Hehaka, Mato or Mica would have been here rather than myself. Had things worked out differently, Hnaska might have been selected, but they already have a host."

Deborah looked down at the now steaming water and began the process of filling the individual gourds. After they were full, she took a moment to clear her thoughts and proceeded with the familiar ritual for making tea. As she finished, a brief flicker of light danced through the cups. She blinked, and then sighed a moment later. "I suppose I should sit in with the two of you when you see Vanity Girl. I see piles of paperwork in my future."

Marni looked at her phone. It was shut off so her parents couldn't call her. She sat huddled in a doorway in LA, having gotten a ride with some college kids who were too stoned to ask questions and too mellow to mess with her.

She thought about going to a drop in centre or something. She'd feel safer, but she couldn't do that, they'd call her parents and the MCO.

Turning on her phone, she saw that there were over fifty messages from her parents, and even more missed calls. She didn't read them, just sent a quick message. 'I'm OK. Sorry.'

Turning it off, she began crying and tried to sleep.

(Sorry folks - this one is a bit darker than the other recent scenes. I've put it in spoiler tags, just in case.)

The crystal was beautiful.

She stared at the choker sitting in the open safe. It was made of black silk. A special type of silver that the client had specially ordered, which felt like nothing she had ever worked with before, surrounded the crystal. The same silver created paper thin silver strands that ran over the silk like spiderwebs, until the fabric was almost hidden. When she'd made the design she had thought it would be virtually impossible to create, but the silver flowed like water under her tools, taking shape almost before she touched it.

She knew the silvery symbols well, she had seen them in her dreams every night. They were part of the creature that ran like the wind, killing, hunting, making love, throwing everything it had into every second of existence.

It was a masterpiece.

Despite the explicit orders not to take any photographs, she had rented a top quality camera the day before and taken some pictures of it. She might never show them to a person, but she had to have them, to remember the beauty that she had created.

Her hands reached out to take it. To put it on. The cats eye looked at her longingly.

Samantha slammed the safe shut and practically threw herself out of the room to get away from it. Running a hand through her greasy hair, she went to her computer to see if the client had responded to her email.

Nothing.

Her eyes went back to the workroom. Just putting it on once would be OK, she told herself.

She was walking towards the choker again.

She turned and ran from the shop, only stopping long enough to lock the doors and set the security system. Five minutes later she was in her apartment taking a shower for the first time in a month. Stripping off her clothes she was amazed to see her ribs sticking out through her skin.

(Rose's story is almost complete for now, and I can't resist, the next three days will see a new part put up.)

Mind Over Matter walked through the Kansas City police station silently cursing himself. No one had gotten a clear picture of what happened to Rose, and she'd been missing for hours. A door opened and he saw the local MCO director come out of a detectives office.

“Stimson,” he shouted, “I thought you were one of the good ones. Where the hell is she?”

“Don't you dare accuse me of hurting a child, Mind,” the director snapped. “The Kansas City MCO office is one of the cleanest in the country. We've turned over all of our surveillance video from the outside of the building and the lobby to the police, she never came within spitting distance of my building.”

Mind suddenly found himself spun around and standing face to face with Rose's father. “What were you thinking, telling my daughter to come here by herself?” Mr. Edwards demanded, almost in a rage.

Mind glared right back at him. “I was keeping her from being arrested. When you go on your trip next week, if she doesn't have an MID she will be thrown into jail and charged. If you had opened your eyes and admitted she was a mutant you could have come with her.”

That did nothing to calm the situation down. “You were suppose to meet her at the bus station, why didn't you?” Mr. Edwards snarled.

“I was stopping a gang fight. I thought she'd be safe going to the MCO on her own,” he said, his shoulders slumping.

Mr. Edwards sent him to the ground with a right hook to the jaw. “YOU BASTARD! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” he screamed, kicking him in the stomach.

It took four officers to get the enraged father off the dazed and bloody hero. He was still screaming for his daughter as they dragged him away.

Waking up strapped a chair, Rose saw a balding, grey haired man desperately moving a joystick and mashing buttons as the room shook and an explosion blossomed on a massive screen.

“Oh, you're awake little girl. Sorry, sorry, no time for introductions or telling you about my brilliant plan. I'm trying to keep us alive right now. I'll talk to you soon,” he said, not looking away from the screen.

“What?!”

There wasn't time to say anything else, he pressed a button and the chair she was strapped to shot into a large tube. Lights and electricity began flashing around her. She took a few seconds to take in the devise, the purpose of it filling her mind, her whimper of fear turned into a shriek of terror.

“It's time to wake up now,” a kindly voice said, giving her a gentle nudge.

She opened her eyes for the first time in her life. She felt herself smiling as she took in the pretty flowers, grass and bushes that surrounded her. It looked like the perfect place to play all day long. “Where am I?” she asked softly, her voice full of wonder at the beautiful roses and wildflowers that surrounded her.

“You're in my garden. Do... do you like it?” the voice asked nervously.

Looking up at the speaker, she saw a handsome, grey haired man wearing lovely clothes. She knew instantly he was a nice man who would look after her and give her lots of things to play with. Jumping up she kissed his large nose.

“I LOVE IT!!! What's my name?” she asked, knowing that the nice man would be able to tell her.

“Your name is Rose Blossom, and this is your home. I know you'll be very happy here,” he told her.

“Oh thank you! You're SO nice!” Rose Blossom squealed with joy, kissing the nice man on the nose again. A tiny voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her, telling her this was wrong, but it grew fainter by the second, until there was only peace and serenity. Everything was perfect, and she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

“Now Rose Blossom, lets go make the world a better place.”

"Finally it has happened," says Keitaro in an awestruck voice, gazing at the vast open space alongside his two friends. "Finally Whateley has reciprocated."

"Yes," intones Souta. "And far more so than we ever could have expected. That they should show their respect for us on such a scale... I am moved to tears."

They ponder the openness for some time before Takako breaks the silence. "Do... do you think perhaps they might have gone a bit too far? Fujisan is not only important to Yama Dojo. Fujisan is important to all of Japan."

Souta nods. "We must travel to Whateley and recover Fujisan. And then, perhaps, we should bring home a certain canyon to demonstrate the true greatness of our respect, because surely our past efforts must look like insults compared to this."

The three friends take one last look and then compose themselves. There is much to be done.

(Blame Bek for giving me this idea.)

Crystal Hall reverberated as the sonic divisor sang ""Kill the Wabbit" in perfect pitch with a full back up choir, and the iconic cartoon was shown in thirty foot tall 3D behind him.

Tia sat at the underdogs table, growing steadily paler, until with an ear shattering scream she ran into and through the nearest crystal panel, leaving a girl shaped hole behind her.

She was last seen running through Dunwich still screaming.

Thursday, 27 September 2007 - After Breakfast
Dr. Bellow's office

Dr. Bellows looked at the two Poe roommates as they walked in in good spirits. After a moment, he gave a slight nod. "How are you doing Danny?"

The teenager shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose. I woke up last night from a nightmare, only for Hank to have to break the news to me that it wasn't."

"Did you wake up again during the night?"

"No."

"And this morning?"

"I've been too busy with the morning routine to think about what happened."

"I see. How about yourself Hank?"

"A bit bleary from being woken up. When Danny recounted the events, he didn't seem to be blocking anything out. He also didn't seem to be on the verge of going catatonic. His reaction seemed to be one of introspection."

"Why don't you head on to class. Do me a favor and schedule an appointment for yourself in the next week or so. You're part of Danny's support network, and I need to make certain you're holding up."

"Will do." As the PK brick took his leave, Dr. Bellows turned his attention to the avatar. "So. What emotions are running through your head about what happened?"

Danny was quiet for a long moment. "Shock. Surprise, mostly. I don't particularly feel violated, if that makes any sense. Like it was something that I needed to do. I haven't interacted with Paige much, so..."

Dr. Bellows interrupted. "Paige?"

"When I woke up last night, I found a text message from her on my phone." Danny pulled out his phone and looked on it for a minute. "Odd. I can't find it. It implied that she had pounced me and that she wanted me to take her next time."

"If you can't find it, you're never going to. Paige has a way with computers."

Danny shook his head. "At the moment, Whinape is loudly purring in my head at the thought."

"What scared you the most about the experience?"

Danny pondered the question. "I think the most nerve wracking thing about our encounter was the possibility of being stuck in my manifested form until I bore a litter of kittens."

Dr. Bellows tilted his head. "I assume that you aren't on any kind of female contraceptive."

"To be honest, I never thought about it. It's not something a guy needs after all."

"But you manifest as a female. And from the way you've been taking, it sounds like you are capable of becoming pregnant."

"So Whinapae claims."

"Is birth control something that you would like to look into?"

"I suppose it is."

"Ok. We'll stop by Doyle before you head off to second period."

"Do they even have something for gender shifters?"

"I don't know. If they don't, they will probably start you on the pill. Once we know what the side effects are and how you need to take it for it to be effective, we'll probably consider an implant so you don't need to remember to take the pills."

"Seems reasonable."

"Another question for you. You don't have to answer, but it might help understand your feelings. I will assume that you masturbate on a semi-regular basis." Seeing a tentative nod, he continued. "Have you ever done so while manifested?"

Danny blushed and fuzzed out before shaking his head, still too embarrassed to speak. Dr. Bellows continued, "Lets set up an appointment for Monday. Your homework before then is to take some time when you won't be interrupted and try doing so in both of your manifested forms. Just do everyone a favor and try to be downwind from Hawthorne when you do. The last thing we want is a repeat of last night."

"Ow! Be more careful!"

"Sorry. And keep your voice down." Paige shuffles to the left, her head craned back in an awkward attempt to see what she's doing well enough to avoid banging Danny into any more shelves. "How about now?"

"Yeah, I think I can reach it." He leans forward slightly and tries not to extend his hind claws into Paige's shoulders as he gropes around on the high shelf for the spare key to a certain locked cabinet down the hall. "Got it." But as he's withdrawing his hand from the shelf, the jar of pickles perched precariously near the edge catches his attention. The urge strikes, and before he can stop himself he's batted it off the shelf to shatter against the hard tile floor.

"Dammit, Danny!" Paige hisses.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He scrambles down off Paige and the two crouch near the door, listening carefully. "There's nobody out there, we're clear."

Paige shakes her head. "Security's coming."

"But I don't hear anything, and you aren't even changed yet, so how could-"

"There was a sensor that picked up that jar crashing and tipped them off."

"How do you-"

"Just trust me, we need to move."

They scurry quickly down the hall and around the corner, then duck into a supply room. Danny unlocks the cabinet and retrieves a sealed, opaque bag. "Is this the stuff you needed? Nepeta cataria?"

"Yessss." She slips the bag into a pocket while Danny closes the cabinet. His ears twitch when they step back into the hallway. "Told you," she whispers as they hurry to the other exit.

A few minutes later they're crouching behind a juniper bush outside. "Well, that was easy; I don't see why you needed my help. What is that stuff, anyway?"

"Oh, that wasn't the only thing I needed your help with. As for this..." She pulls out the pouch tears it open, tipping a couple leaves into her palm. "Nepeta cataria."

Danny sniffs. "Herbs, huh? Those smell way better than they should. What are they for? Some kind of magic tea like my sister's always making?" He sniffs again. "They don't smell weird like the ones she uses."

Paige grins as black fur starts bursting out of her skin. "Oh no, this is way better than tea. But that's not a bad idea. Maybe next time." She raises the leaves to Danny's mouth and he eats them before he can stop himself.

"Hey! Why did... oh wow, these are good." He starts purring and reaches for the bag, but Paige holds it away from him and takes some for herself first.

Neither of them hear the bush giggle as it watches the N. cataria take hold of them. With this knowledge, Juniper is certain she'll be able to entice Danny to join her new and improved Wondercute! One way... or another.

Threads hopped out of her custom police car and wished, not for the first time, that she had one of the cool super powers that let her arrive on the scene of a crime in style, like flying out of the sky to pummel evil doers, teleporting in with a puff of smoke, or stomping up in a suit of power armour. Too bad for her, the best she could manage was swinging on threads and trying to jump from building to building. That had gotten her a lot of lame spider man jokes when she had first started, and in Winnipeg it was slower than taking a car in all but the worst traffic.

She heard barking and some gunshots coming from inside the warehouse, where the 911 call had originated. While comics and TV said it should be abandoned, the building was in good shape with state of the art security, that probably meant it was owned by a gang and she was about to step into the middle of a turf war.

Her day just kept getting better and better.

Telekinetically grabbing the specially made steel wire from her pack, she sent it up to the roof, tying it neatly around a ventilation exhaust fan that she could sense through the wire. With a thought the wire coiled itself back up pulling her upwards to gracefully summersault onto the roof thanks to her exemplar 3 grace. Going to the door she disturbed a flock of pigeons who were sleeping peacefully in the warm summer night.

A kick to the door and she was inside, looking down at a scene of pure chaos. Over a dozen big scarred dogs were attacking a group of men who were shooting at them, clubbing them and trying to hold them back as they were being bitten and clawed by a horde of mice and rats. Some of them were shooting at a teenage girl wearing a mask who was cowering behind an overturned table.

The gunmen and the dogs were the biggest threat. Judging from the small ring nearby that was stained with blood, the animals were trained for illegal dog fights, that made them almost as dangerous as the gunmen. A dozen wires shot out encircling each dog, tying their legs and muzzles, before snapping off and encircling the next animal or gunman. In seconds the fighting was over. The free wires then joined together creating a net sweeping most of the rodents up. The few that escaped ran for the sheltering darkness.

"Now where is that girl?" She asked herself seeing that the mutant had run for it as soon as she showed herself.

"Come out with your hands up! This is special constable Threads of the RCMP. If you run or fight, you will be charged with illegal use of paranormal powers against a police officer," she shouted. If this was just a new mutant, it might scare her into surrendering. It was well known that newly manifested mutants could usually get off with a slap on the wrist if they surrendered, but using their powers against a registered hero or officer and they were looking at major jail time.

The sound of running feet was answer enough. Jumping down she ran after the kid, sending her wires ahead of her. She sensed her running for a side entrance, and retracted the wires that were too far away to help, the rest zeroed in on the girl.

And then the rats came, jumping on the wires, gnawing at them, trying to force them down by weight and numbers. Throwing them off let the girl hit the door at a run and keep going. Cursing Threads put on speed, and was out the same door less than twenty seconds later. The girl couldn't be an exemplar or energizer, she was running flat out and still hadn't cleared the wide loading area. That would make things easier at least.

Putting on a burst of speed, her wires spreading out from her back like a storm of tentacles, she was ready for the take down. Then something wet and sticky landed on her face. Screaming in disgust, she was suddenly doused in pigeon poop as a huge flock flew over her voiding everything they had right on her head.

She fell on her butt, unable to keep her footing in the disgusting mess, sputtering, humiliated, and needing a long bath, she watched the girl escape through a veil of dripping muck.

Spoilers for I Think We're Not in Kansas Anymore pt 2!

The shop was returning to normal. Samantha was remembering to shower and eat, she'd actually regained two pounds after a week of ravenous eating. Her workroom was tidied up, and she had given Wendy a raise for keeping everything going so well for a month.

Her eyes went back to the safe. “No,” she told herself. “It's your clients not yours. Just leave it alone.”

Checking her emails, she saw her increasingly desperate messages to the client practically begging him to send someone for the choker were still unanswered.

“Gotta keep busy,” she said, consciously NOT looking at the safe.

Grabbing a cloth she went to clean the display stands.

As the group walks down the tunnel to see for themselves about this supposed fragility, a strange tune ululates out of Ty West's pocket. While he fishes out a cellphone with a confused expression, the rest stop and gape at him as though he's been replaced by an alien. That Ty West would permit such an interruption during important business, let alone answer it, is unthinkable. Yet, it is clearly happening. This must be the worst sort of emergency.

He frowns deeply as he listens to the caller, then returns the phone to his pocket. "I am terribly sorry for that, but there has been a disaster. I'm afraid I must go. My planet needs me."

Mrs. Carson puts a hand on his shoulder before he can leave. "Ty-"

"Half of them have already been slaughtered, Liz. This is more important than authorizing the funds to shore up a tunnel."

"Of course. What I was going to say is that you're not alone. Let me help."

Lord Paramount steps forward and clears his throat. "I believe I may be of assistance as well? You provided me with aid a few years ago in the Komodo-Dodo incident, and I insist on repaying the favor."

"I want to come as well," says Quintain. "This could be a once in a lifetime chance to study the-"

Paulson speaks at the same time. "Count me in; I've always wanted to-"

"Fine!" roars Tywyswyr, his human illusion discarded. "There isn't time for this!" He snaps his fingers and a swirling blue vortex appears in the wall. "This leads to my ship. Any of you may follow or stay as you will, but decide swiftly. I will launch within the minute."

As Tywyswyr, Carson, Paramount, Quintain, and Paulson plow through the portal, the remaining humans look at each other for a long moment before they give a collective shrug and rush after them, eager to see the Sthri homeworld and provide what help they can.

"I have gathered you here today - "

" - because one of us is the murderer!" chorused the group of young girls. They grinned at Jade, and Pern let out a cheep.

Jade continued steadily, grinning at the interruption. "It's a new year, so it's time to rush new members! Anyone meet any good prospects?"

Bunny smiled. "Danny!"

"Who's Danny?" the non-Poesies asked. Bunny's smile broadened. "He's only the most adorable freshman on campus. Let me tell you about him..."

As Bunny waxed effusive, Jade added Danny's name, and a few others to a nearby whiteboard.

Anna looked up. "I saw Lizzie coming in off the bus with that giant pink stuffed dog. She's definitely a good choice. But are you sure about-"

Jade nodded. "I'm sure. That girl needs more joy in her life. Ayla was telling us about something that happened a few months ago, and it clicked. It will take some work though."

The members of the club conferred and agreed. And there was a gleeful light in their eyes as they got down to the serious business of bringing Katrina Tvardovski, code named "Nacht", into Wondercute.

As the headmistress and her motley group of trustees, researchers, and security walk down the cordoned off tunnel to examine the suspicious fractures in the tunnels, they hear a humming coming from what should be an empty lab. Carson holds up her hand to stop and jerks her head toward the door of the lab. Forsythe nods and gestures to his security officers, directing them to draw their weapons and take up station outside. On his signal they pile through the door. "Freeze! You are trespassing in an unauthorized area! Put your hands on your head and step away from the devise!"

This is followed by a loud zapping sound and a bunch of flashing lights as a ray ricochets out of the room and through the hall, accompanied by assorted screams from several of those present. This is terminated moments later by a small explosion and a nervous "oops."

The smells of ozone and smoke fill the lab as the devisor within staves off panic, pulls out her phone, and dials. "Hey, so how do you feel about eloping and taking that long world-tour honeymoon we've been talking about? Like, right now? Or even better, yesterday?"

"Whoa, what's the rush? I thought we decided to do that next summer after we graduate?"

"Yeah... but I think doing it now would be best, because I kinda screwed up here and I think we need to get far, far away for a while. Maybe for always."

"What are you talking about? Whatever you did can't be that bad. I'm sure that-"

"Honey! I shrunk the trustees!"

"...I hear Madagascar is nice this time of year?"

Star League Jr. Aftermath

June 15th, 2007 Early Evening

Ashley squeezed Hank's hand as they walked towards the conference room Star League's HQ.

Hank asked her, "Are you sure you want me to come along?"

She nodded, "At least for the AAR, we might ask you to leave after that, before we start talking about it with our parents. Are you alright with that?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure why you want me along at all."

She smiled up at him, "Because you know Jade, Bunny, and Molly. You even know Anna better than I do."

"I've met Anna. I carried her and her squirrels around. I've talked to her a couple times when she came to see Ayla, or Bunny and Jade. I wouldn't say that I know her."

The five teens entered the conference room and glanced at the members of Star League. Tabby Cat started to get up, but Falcon put a hand on her thigh and stopped her. He looked at his daughter and her friends, "You wanted to talk to us officially?"

"Um..." Lily started then looked at her friends who all nodded. "I'm not sure if officially is the right word. What we need is some advice, really badly. I mean we..." Her voice dropped off as Hank squeezed her hand.

The adults all got very curious looks on their faces, the same kids that eight months earlier were so cocksure of themselves were now asking for advice. Falcon cleared his throat and asked, "So what's the problem, and is Hank involved?"

"Hank's not involved, but he has background information that should be helpful." She looked at her boyfriend, "Hank can tell them about Wondercute?"

Linebacker snorted, "Wondercute?"

Hank let out a sigh, and explained about Wondercute. He finished up, "So really it's just a bunch of girls that want to have fun, and goof around in the sims. Oh and defend cuteness."

Falcon coughed, "Defend cuteness?"

"That's what they say. Anyway, Ja... er Generator, who is one of my Team Kimba teammates learned a lot in the Winter Term Team Tactics course, and to be honest her craziness and off the wall tactics drive Gunny Bardue nuts."

Dredz laughed, "I thought he was going to have a heart attack a couple of times during class."

Hank continued, "Since they formed they have been, well why don't we just watch some of their sims."

They spent the next 45 minutes watching sim matches that Wondercute bounced through, driving their opponents nuts. Once everyone had recovered from laughing at Wondercute's antics. Falcon asked, "So what's the problem?"

Lily sighed, "Gunny Bardue wanted to teach them a lesson and picked us to do it. They were given a "Crash" Combat Final. We were told who we were facing, and what the scenario was two days before the Final. Then Gunny and Admiral Everheart helped us set them up. Here just watch the Final."

Tabby noted that none of the kids were watching the monitor, Lily had her head buried in Hank's shoulder. The others either had the heads buried in their hands or were staring at the ceiling. She stared at the monitor wondering what could have been so bad.

When Phoenixfire cut Superchick's arm off, someone let out a "Fuck!" Magma looked over at her daughter, and she could just make out the tears flowing down her cheeks.

The scream Dredz let out, was followed by a whimper by the real Dredz. At the end, all the parents were busy hugging their kids, while Hank sat there not sure what he should do.

After all the hugging and consoling, Falcon looked over the kids, "So what exactly is the problem?"

Lily looked at her friends again, "Several problems. The biggest is that none of Wondercute is talking to each other."

Hank cut in, "That's not entirely true. Bugs, Generator, and Gateway are. Well sort of, mostly they were crying together." He looked at the adults, "Bugs and Generator have been friends since day one, and Gateway has been friends with them since October. Gateway roomed with Dragonrider, and she says that Dragonrider barely says anything to her. Aquerna is hiding from the others, and Superchick spent most of Finals week with Dr. Bellows or Dr. Markham."

Lily gave Hank a squeeze, "The problem with the lesson that Gunny wanted to teach them, was that it wasn't needed yet. Bugs, Generator and Gateway already know the truth about the real world. They were all there at Ayla's party. I protected Bugs and a couple others, but well Bugs and Fey are real close and Fey was almost killed. Gateway was part of the fight, and was almost killed herself, plus Bladedancer came within minutes of dying if Generator hadn't saved her. Generator was injured herself."

"Aquerna probably doesn't need it either. Ayla talks about her every so often, and I've met her a few times. She's an underdog, whose family has all but disowned her, and she was the dumpy girl everyone picked on. She was at the restaurant too. Or so I've heard. So she probably knows the real world is a scary place."

"What about the other two" Red Archer asked. At the somewhat blank looks from the kids she continued, "Don't you know anything about them?"

Hank looked at the others, "Not really. Dragonrider sometimes eats with the rest of Wondercute, but the rest of the time. I-I'm not sure. I kind of remember seeing her around, but not who she is hanging around with. Superchick, she, well she hangs around with the Bad Seeds. I don't think she is one, she has a real superhero mad on going. But she rooms with Jadis Diabolik, and she seems like she really likes Jobe and the Drow contingent."

"Drow?" someone asked?

"Uh, dark elves from D&D. There are four of them. Jobe Wilkins made them, well himself and three others. Superchick is probably the only that really needed the lesson, but probably not until she was on a real team."

Falcon looked at his teammates, then at the kids, "So is there anything else?" They all shook their heads. "So what do want from us?"

All of Star League Jr. started talking at once, before they stopped and Psymod took the lead. "We need to fix the problem, and we need advice how to do it."

Magma snorted, "Why should you fix it?"

Psymod blinked a couple of times, "We broke it. We didn't mean to, but it's our fault. So we should fix it, or least help get it fixed."

"Good answer. Unfortunately you really can't fix it." Over the protests, Tabby Cat continued, "You can't. You can't fix people's emotions. What you can do is help. And now we will give you some suggestions of things to do..."

July 2022 - Morning
The Franks Family Farm, South Dakota

A bleery eyed Brenda wandered into the kitchen, following the scent of fresh coffee. June and Pete were seated at the kitchen table. Pete was the first to speak. "Well, that was an interesting dreamwalk last night."

Brenda gave a wry look at the comment. "Nothing like going to sleep and having an eventful night."

June took a sip from her mug, then queried "What's it like having a spirit?"

"Ask again this time next month, and I'll let you know. Right now, I'm still getting used to the idea that I have someone else in my head."

"I get that. I think I'm still getting over the shock of having another child who's an avatar."

Pete nodded his agreement. "Me too. When were you going to call Deborah?"

"I thought I'd wait until 9 or so. That will give us time to take care of the day's chores."

"Think you'll make it back tonight?"

"I'd be surprised. Probably easier on the sanity if we overnight in Sioux Falls."

Brenda chimed in on the conversation with, "Once we have a time, I'll call the Drakes and see if Luke would be able to help out. I know he'll be excited to hear that I manifested."

Pete chuckled. "Not to mention his parents."

His daughter conceded the point. "Them too."

Several hours later, the morning chores had been taken care of. While Pete checked over the crop sprayer, Brenda commandeered the kitchen phone. Two rings later, and she was talking with her best friend. Luke Drake was a year younger, and the two had practically grown up together. His parents had learned the farming business from hers. Eight years ago, one of their neighbors passed away unexpectedly. The resulting estate sale gave his parents the chance to start a farm of their own.

"What's the word?" Asked Luke.

"Icimani." was the unexpected response.

It took Luke a moment to remember the translation. "Oh? When are you headed out?"

"In a couple hours."

"Talk about short notice! What's the rush?"

"Powers testing in Sioux Falls."

"Congratulations. What'd you get?"

"His name is Hoka."

"So, you're an avatar? Anything else? Wait a minute. His name?"

"Yes, not that I've noticed, and yes. It seems I got stuck with the family curse."

"Family curse?"

"It started with my brother Brendan. You know her as Kayda."

"Kayda was a boy?"

"Yep. Apparently she had a rather traumatic manifestation. She never goes into details, but apparently she transitioned in a week."

"That's rather fast."

"Quite. Next up was my brother Danny. He managed to stay male, but he manifests as a female."

"And you seem set to do the same?"

"Well, in reverse, but yes. Is your mom or dad available? Dad wants to borrow you until Mon and I get back."

"One moment. I think mom is in the barn."

A couple minutes later, Sue picked up the phone. "Brenda?"

"Good morning Sue. How are you today?"

"I am well. Luke says that you're going to Sioux Falls for power testing?"

"I am."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. Might we be able to borrow Luke tonight? Mom and I expect to be gone overnight, and dad could use the help."

"I think we can spare his talents. You don't feel up to making the trip solo?"

"I probably could, but mom was talking about getting tested herself."

"She manifested too?"

"We don't know. Wihanape speaks as if it may be the case."

"I see. Please let us know what your cards say."

Marni sat watching people pass by, she had a cup in front of her and a little sign saying 'Thrown out of my home, please help', in front of it. She had a couple of hundred dollars stashed inside her bra, but she knew that wouldn't last long. Any money she could get would help. So far, she looked pitiful enough to have gotten twenty bucks.

A young guy came up leering at her. He did a quick check to make sure no one was too close to them, and knelt down beside her. “I'll give you a fifty bucks to come with me. I've got a crib just a few blocks away.”

She cringed at the thought, he wasn't the first one to make the offer that day. “Fuck off, pervert! Like I'd want to see your skinny ass,” she said loudly. The first guy hadn't left her alone until she started swearing at him when he touched her. She was a fast learner.

“Hey, bitch! I'm just trying to be polite, you don't have to harsh me.”

“Just get the hell away from me.”

People were starting to pay attention to them. That wasn't good. She didn't want to risk the police coming along. Grabbing her cup, she tried to walk away. The perv grabbed her shoulder.

“Where are you going, we're not done talking.”

“Yes, we are,” she said, trying to pull away. She really didn't want to use her powers but the guy was looming over her, and his grip was starting to hurt.

Two hands grabbed the perv, yanking him back and sent him flying to the ground. “Dagger, go find some meth head to screw, that's the only type you'll have a chance with,” the new guy said. He turned to Marni. “Names Tyson, you OK?”

She looked him over. He was dressed in worn out clothes that were a bit too tight, showing off his chiselled body. He had a shaved head and his hands were scarred, but he didn't look like a jerk. “I'm fine, thanks.”

“You look new, you want some help?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“All right. If you need a place to sleep, come by Sue's Diner, just down the street around nine. Me and some friends will be there. You can talk, you like us, we like you, we hang.”

“Just talking?” she asked.

“Just talking.”

“I might see you,” she said walking away.

Samantha sat in front of the safe, unmoving.

Two months and no response from the cats eye client. Was he going to come back? Had he died? Did he want the stone back? Samantha impatiently wondered what was going to happen.

She was sitting in front of the safe, much like a cat watching a mouse hole. The dreams were still coming to her every night. At least now that she wasn't touching it all the time, she wasn't hallucinating, but the dreams were better than the dull life she lived.

In the dreams she was powerful. She was a huntress. A thing of beauty and passion. Not the boring business woman, who didn't have a boyfriend, couldn't do anything with her ugly dishwater blonde hair, had cheeks that were too red, and a nose that was too big.

If she had the stone for herself, she could be different. She could be special. She could be amazing.

Her eyes barely blinked as she watched the safe.

“Now remember, just act smooth. Slip your hand in like its suppose to be there, grab the first thing you can and slide out,” Tyson said.

Marni nodded, feeling sick to her stomach. Walking up behind Latisha, one of Tyson's friends, she flexed and sensed everything around her. Focusing on her hand, she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her hand brush against the side of the purse. Ever so slowly she moved her fingers moving in time with the bouncing purse, listening to the steady breathing of the homeless girl, watching all around her to make sure no one was paying attention. Her fingertips brushed against a wallet, taking hold of it, she slid it out never once disturbing the purse.

Relaxing, she slid the wallet into her pocket, feeling a little sorry as the dull world returned.

Latisha stopped walking, spinning around to give her a disgusted look. “What the hell are you doing, girl? Are you too scared to even try?”

Tyson hid a smile. “Check your purse.”

Snorting she opened up her bag, a second later her jaw dropped. “How the hell did you do that?! I didn't even feel a thing!”

Marni, forced herself to smile. “I'm just that good,” she said.

“Tomorrow you, Latisha and I can go downtown to get some cash,” Tyson said. “I'll watch your backs.”

**

Late that night, curled up on a thin and dirty mattress with a sheet tossed over her in an abandoned house that was so old and broken down only the lowest of the low would live there, listening to Latisha and two other girls snoring quietly,

Marni stifled a sob. “I'm sorry, Daddy,” she whispered.

Sabawaelnu, the premier hero of the Canadian Maritimes, flew onto the stage on a pillar of water, spraying the front several rows of the crowd in warm seawater. She forced herself to smile at the crowd, it was expected, she was important for uniting the community and making everyone feel good about themselves as they went through their useless lives, wasting her time, making her work so hard to keep them safe. Useless scum.

Raising her arms, water surged into the sky, with a thought she twisted it around, creating dancing rings, circles, ships and more. The crowd cheered as she acted like a trained monkey for their entertainment. She took a tiny bit of pleasure in splashing them, not enough to anger them, just a little joke for the audience.

Her eyes fell on two teenagers near the back. Twins, a boy and a girl who were nearly identical, they were walking away from a group of teenagers, scowling at her, making sure she knew that they held her in nothing but contempt. The smile faltered.

Water erupted around her, hiding her rage until she could regain control. It formed into a mermaid like creature the Sabawaelnu, her namesake from Mi'kmak legends. With a watery roar it soared over the crowd leaving a trail of mist until exploded just above the hateful teens. The soaked audience roared in surprise.

Flicking her wrist, the soaked onlookers were left only a little damp, the water rising off of them in tiny raindrops falling into the sky. There was a massive applause.

She gave them a real smile, as she watched the two soaked children storm off, dripping wet as if they'd just climbed out of the Atlantic.

She'd deal with them later.

Teri woke up bright and early in Poe cottage, having spent the night having a sleep over with Splits and Ruth. Splits roommate had gone home for the weekend it was seen as the perfect chance for the three friends to do some teenage bonding. It had taken a bit of persuading, but since she'd already been sworn to secrecy over some things she'd already seen, Mrs. Horton had agreed after some pleading.

Splits rolled over on her bed, "Good morning Teri. You're off to have a shower?"

"Yeah, I smell like popcorn and pizza or I'd wait to have a bath back in Whitman."

"You remember your promise about not telling anyone about our showers?"

Teri rolled her eyes. "Yes, honestly how many secrets do you Poesies have? Do you need a secret handshake to use the kitchen?"

Splits just smiled. "You'll understand when you try the shower."

Shrugging, Teri grabbed her washcloth embroidered with roses and her tiny bag of toiletries and flew out of the room. A few of the early risers were surprised to see the six inch tall fairy fly past, but she was a common enough sight that they just smiled and said good morning, or moaned a greeting.

In the bathroom Teri had to admit it looked nice, but she didn't see what the big deal was, it was just some pretty tiles. Wrapping her hair up in seran wrap to keep it dry, she stripped and flew into the shower only to stop in confusion. There were a lot more knobs and dials than she was used to.

Turning on the shower, she got herself cleaned up quickly, making sure to wash her wings extra well since they were spattered with melted popcorn butter. With that done her curiosity got he better of her. She twisted one of the knobs.

A jet of water hit her in the chest slamming her against the wall. Sputtering and choking, she managed to get out of the line of fire and half blind flew to the knobs. She grabbed what she thought was the right one and turned it all the way off. Five streams of perfumed water hit her from all sides. Desperately she began hitting dials and knobs and levers, trying to find some escape.

**

Splits looked up tiredly as the door slammed open. Teri hovered in the air, bruised, soaking wet, her hair a wild dripping mess, and her wings were crinkled. "What on earth happened to you?"

Teri spit out a mouthful of water before speaking. "Your shower tried to kill me."

He woke up, excited. Today was the day, he knew it! He had checked the entire building, and the only bugs he had found were those that his parents had put in his luggage to spy on him. He worked tediously to remove the bugs without him coming in sight of the cameras, and constrained his laughter. It would be bad if he was caught now, before he could do it. He crushed every bug, even the ones he was sure were only fakes.

When he was done he removed the second bottom he had installed in his suitcase. He looked around before he pulled the second bottom out, and then ordered a shower kit. He quietly went to the shower, and put a sign on the shower doors saying: "Do not disturb, high need of privacy." He signed it, with two signatures and locked the shower door. He washed his hair, which turned from white to ash blonde as he washed out the coloring. He got out a brush and brushed his hair until it was long and straight, reaching to his middle.

"It is a wonder what a simple change of style can do for how a person looks." He said as he looked into the mirror. He grabbed a towel, looked out of the shower. When he saw noone, he ran towards his room and quickly went in it. There he took some items from the hidden part of his suitcase and layed them on his bed. He put them on and ordered a mirror, a tall, standing mirror. He looked into it and saw himself. His parents would be enraged if they saw him like this, dressed like a girl... As she was.

She saw herself, dressed as a girl as she had dreamed she would one day look like. She loved the chance that she had been given by her parents, even if they thought they had done everything to stop her. She was Marie, Marie Rosethorn, and she was free of her parents' grasp, they couldn't control her anymore, and couldn't force her to act like a boy anymore. Wolfgang would be no more, no matter what abuse her parents put her through, she would survive.

"Be careful of plucking this rose, it has its thorns!" She giggled. She loved that she was allowed to giggle. Now to make the changes to get her to be assigned to a proper dorm.

Marie Rosethorn bounced to the administration, she was so happy! Her parents would go crazy, but they didn't really matter, not anymore. On her way to the administration some people looked at her funny and then they were away, as she was back alone, waiting until the administration had time.

"You there, why are you here? Don't you know that this place is a private school?" She bounced up until she saw that it was Hardass who was speaking to her. "Well miss? What is it?"

Marie looked ashamed. "Miss Hartford, I have attended classes here for a few days, but just now I have been able to be myself." Miss Hartford looked unamused. "Who were you then? Someone who was not supposed to be here?" Marie shook her head no, she opened her mouth to speak but Hardass spoke first. "Then why do you not look like anyone who is supposed to be here?"

Marie opened her mouth again, angry this time by the rude interruption. "I was registered here under the name Wolfgang Johan Sebastian Amadeus van Beethoven, and not a single medical record exists that declares I am female, only me, my parents and a doctor know, but he conveniently forgot to put it in the medical records each time my father paid him."

Hartford opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a call from the headmistress's office. "Let her in, I'll talk about what exactly happened. Come in, Marie, was it?"

"Now remember Abby, this is a special game. You have to run around the field looking for prizes, for every big prize you get two dollars, and every little prize you get a piece of chocolate. Are you ready?" the man asked his daughter.

Abby nodded eagerly, clapping her hands and jumping with excitement, making her brown pigtails bounce. She got to the starting line, not noticing the sign that said 'DANGER MINEFIELD!" In several different languages.

Her father smiled and shouted "GO!" sending her into the field at a run.

She zigzagged as she ran hoping to find a prize and when she'd run mere ten meters there was a loud boom, and she was sent high into the air to land with a thud on her back.

"YAY!!!" She shouted getting to her feet and brushing the sand off her clothes. "That was a big prize!"

"Yes it was, Princess!" Her father shouted back. "Keep going there are lots of prizes out there."

For the next few hours the peaceful afternoon was full of explosions and the squeals of glee as a young girl played in the beautiful and exciting field.

"He really kidnapped Santa Claus?" Abby, the 6 year old brick asked, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and sadness.

"Yes he did sweety," her father replied. "Now you have to go in and make him tell us where Santa is. But we don't want all the other kids to know that Santa is missing. So you have to ask for a David Anthony. Can you remember that?"

"Yes daddy. Just tell me where to go."

He pointed her at the house they were parked beside and opened the door of the specially armoured van. Abby ran out wearing her mask and cape not bothering with the front door door or even breaking a window to get inside, choosing instead to go through the nearest wall to save time.

A big man came running at the noise, his hands grew in size until each one was easily the same size as the little girl. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Where's Santa? I mean David Anthony?" Abby yelled.

"Fuck off girl," moving in to grab her.

"You shouldn't use bad words!" She said. Grabbing his hand she threw him up, making a convenient hole to the second and third floor as well as creating a new skylight. Jumping as hard as she could she joined the bad man, who was screaming in fear, in the sky. "Are you going to tell me where Santa is?"

"I'll tell you anything. Just don't let me fall!"

She grabbed him in a hug and bent her knees a little. "Daddy says you should go limp and roll when we land."

The bad man began screaming as the ground came up with frightening speed.

"Watcha doing?" Abby asked the big funny looking man holding another man wearing a costume.

"Robbing a bank kid, now go away your bothering me," the funny man said, slamming the other man face first into the wall a few times.

"My daddy says that's not nice. You should stop and apologize right now," she said ignoring the calls from police and others who were watching.

"What are you going to do about it pipsqueak?"

"Well daddy said beating people up is bad unless we're paid, but I think it would be ok in this case. Because you're being really, really mean, and you could hurt that guy your holding. So I think I can beat you up, and he won't get angry. Do you think that's right? Daddy says I'm his silly little girl sometimes because I talk and talk and talk. He says it takes a crowbar to get me off of something when I start talking. But that's silly, the last time he used a crowbar to try to get me to leave the circus it broke."

The villain threw the battered hero away, wondering if the little kid would ever shut up. He puta hand on her face and shoved as hard as he could.

She didn't budge. She was still talking, even though it was muffled by his hand.

Placing both hands on her he tried to move her, his feet slid out from under him, and she hadn't stopped talking for a second.

"Do you ever shut up?" he asked.

"When I'm asleep," she said grabbing his little finger.

"All right, I'm going to take my money and run." He tried to do just that but she still had his finger, and he couldn't walk away without losing it. Placing his foot on her chest he pushed as hard as he could.

He might as well have tried moving a mountain.

Abby looked down and saw a dirty footprint on her pink shirt. She scowled as only a six year old girl can. "You got my favourite shirt dirty!" she shouted, her her tiny hands balled up into fists.

He began to whimper in fear.

**
When the villain came to in the hospital, he was told that thanks to his low level regeneration, he'd probably regain full motion and control of his body with only a year or two of physiotherapist,

Tracy waited in the doctors office reading a comic, her tall, painfully thin body covered in a hospital gown. The curtains were closed, since manifesting her pale skin had gotten even paler and she burned easily unless she was covered in sunscreen.

The door opened and a short, pudgy Doctor walked in. "Hello Beatrice, I'm Doctor Rancourt," he said, extending his hand.

She winced at hearing her first name. She hated it, it made her sound old and boring like her grandmother, who she was named after. It couldn't even be shortened into something interesting. Putting down her horror comic, she shook the doctors hand. "Hi Dr. Rancourt. Could you call me Tracy,? I prefer my middle name," she said, trying to avoid biting her tongue with her sharp teeth.

"Of course, Tracy." He placed a thermos mug on the desk and sat down, making sure to show only professional friendliness. She'd seen that a lot over the last few months since manifesting. The MCO said she was an exemplar, but neither they or the doctors could explain why she couldn't eat much and was ravenous all the time.

"Now then, you haven't been able to eat more than 17 ounces of food each day, and even broths make you sick to your stomach correct?" he asked.

She nodded, she'd been surviving on protein drinks and IV drips which her body seemed able to use to keep her alive and moving, but she was skin and bones with a ravenous hunger all the time. That combined with her blood red iris's had made a few younger patients in the sick kids ward scream in terror when they saw her.

He uncapped the thermos mug and her nose twitched at the heavenly smell, saliva flooded her mouth. He noticed her look of hunger. "Try it, I think it will help with your eating problem."

She had meant to reach for it and take a sip, but something took over and she lunged for the cup instead, guzzling it down, ignoring the trickle of liquid that ran down her chin. It was thick and warm, a little like tomato soup. When she finished, she was amazed to find the maddening hunger was gone.

"Did that help?"

She nodded in shock. Wiping her mouth, her pale hand was red and slick. She felt like she was going to throw up. "Th-this is blood!"

Before Dr. Rancourt could answer she fainted.

Samantha opened the safe, holding her breath, afraid if she breathed too hard the beautiful crystal would vanish.

It was still there. It winked hello.

Only a small desk lamp was on, the rest of the store was pitch black. It had been over four months since she finished the choker, and the client hadn't responded. He had to be dead. That meant she could use the crystal. It was hers now.

Taking it out as carefully as if it was a newborn babe, she felt the power rushing through her hands. It knew its true owner, and it was letting her get a small taste of what it could offer.

Releasing the intricate silver clasp that was done up to resemble a small cats eye, she placed the choker on her neck and closed it again. It was a little loose, but she didn't care.

Fire filled her.

She screamed as her body shifted. Her muscles hardened, skin stretched and pulled back as claws ripped out of her fingers. Her face felt like water, flowing away from the flat, ugly human face, fangs filled her mouth. Her ears twitched.

She smelled rain in the breeze, heard the neighbours two stories above making love. A scream from outside brought the promise of blood. The tiled floor beneath her fingers felt cooler than she remembered, she had thought it was clean, but she could feel dust and grit on her fingertips. Opening her mouth, she could still smell the perfume of the customers she'd talked to hours before.

Roaring with delight, she ran out into the night, eager to see the world and challenge it.

“Hey asshole, what are you doing coming onto our territory?” a big guy asked, his hand in his pocket holding something, while five other guys stood menacingly behind him.

“Fuck off, this ain't your territory,” Tyson said, moving in front of Marni and Latisha.

“It is now. You owe me rent. I'll be generous, cash or ass.”

Latisha ducked her head and shoved past Tyson who looked like he was ready to kill someone. “You get me for an hour and then you leave us alone.”

“Naw, we've had you already. We want the new girl to,” the guy said.

Marni wanted to throw up. The thought of being groped by the gang members, of being raped by them, she wanted to scream. Tyson was saying something, sounding angry, she couldn't make out what it was through the rush of blood in her ears.

She moved and the gang never had a chance. They couldn't get their weapons out before she had them on the ground, clutching broken bones, crying in pain, wondering what happened.

Standing in the middle of them, Marni saw the blood on her fists, recalled the snapping of bones. She threw up. Tyson was at her side in time to catch her as she fainted.

Back Breaker cast a simple spell to open the lock and disconnect the security alarm on the door of the suburban home. It was a nice place, about what he'd expect of his mortal enemy the hero Iron Helm. For too long the hero had thwarted him, humiliated him, now it was time to get revenge. It had taken over a year to learn the heroes true identity, and it had come at the most opportune time.

He heard the prey humming to herself in the kitchen, the smell of roasting chicken filled the air, Iron Helms wife was obviously preparing a meal for him. It would be amusing to cut off her head and leave it on the table, lightly garnished and ready to eat. The unborn baby in her womb would be an excellent side dish.

Silently he made his way to the kitchen, his muscles tensed to leap on her and torment her for an hour or two before he had to leave.

Stepping through the door he screamed in shock and pain as an energy spear pierced his gut and pinned him to the far wall like a bug.

"Back Breaker? I wasn't expecting you," the woman said in a cold voice, while she winced and pressed her hands into the small of her back. Her stomach looked a little like a beach ball under the too tight sweatshirt, which made the energy coursing from her eyes disconcerting.

"Spear Maiden?!" he croaked in surprise, trying to pull the spear from his gut so he could heal.

She walked towards him another energy spear forming in her hands. "Oh, you must have Discovered Paul's identity, and found out that I was pregnant and his wife. Being stupid, you didn't put two and two together, thinking I was a helpless baseline and not the other hero in this town who hasn't been around for a few months." She gave him a cold smile. "That's just sloppy."

"I-i need a doctor," he gasped.

"No you don't," she told him. "But I'm going to need a shovel."

"You can't kill me, you're a hero," he gasped.

"You came to my home looking to kill me. That makes you a danger to my family, especially my child. If I go to the police with your body, that will be pretty obvious to every villain and criminal who we are," she said. The spear tip went under his chin, poking painfully into his jugular. "I don't play nice when my family is at stake. Good bye Back Breaker."

He didn't have time to scream.

Adam woke up. He felt it, and his power said he was right. His father had died today, but he had finally succeeded in their family's struggle. He grabbed his knife and started the ritual.

---

Circe got a call during her lesson. She had expected this a decade or so later. "Sorry class, but I have to take this call."

"Hello Circe, no time for games now. There is bad news and there is good news. Bad news, Dad died, good news, he succeeded. I am coming to you for help." The last thing Circe felt was the sensation that she was falling and someone screaming.

---

"Circe? Circe? Are you alright?" Dr. Tenent asked, concerned for her patient's health. Circe shook her head, attempting to get her bearings. "Ophelia, we have a really big emergency at our hands, I need to speak to the Headmistress."

"What is such a big emergency that you need to speak to me directly?" Elizabeth Carson had walked into the room just in time to hear the last sentence. Circe looked terrible, completely afraid of whatever was happening.

Circe looked up. "Warn every psychic not to mess with the head of the next male student who arrives, and the head of anyone who calls me mother or a variation thereof. My addopted son is coming."

“Where are you heading to?” John asked the young hitchhiker.

“New York, you heading that way?” the teenager asked. He looked nervous, not exactly an unreasonable reaction for a kid who couldn't be more than fifteen and almost certainly just runaway from home.

“I'm going in that direction. I've got some business close to there, I can have you in the outskirts by tonight. You keep me awake while I'm driving and I'll even buy you lunch and dinner,” he said with a smile.

“Gee, thanks man,” the teenager said, climbing in and putting his pitifully small bookbag at his feet. “I've been waiting around all morning for a ride but no one is stopping.”

“Call me John, what's your name?” he asked holding out his hand.

“Mark.”

As their skin connected, John let his power lose. There wasn't any dramatic display, but he instantly felt wide awake and hungry. Putting his hands back on the wheel, he could feel the stream of energy leaving Mark and entering him. Smiling happily he drove away.

**

John watched as Mark struggled to stay awake at supper, his skin was pale, sweat beaded his forehead, his cheeks which had been a little on the chubby side were sunken in. John watched, faking concern as the teen listlessly ate his meal.

For his part, John felt wonderful. “How are you holding up?”

“I'm just tired. I've had a long week. You don't mind if I take a nap in the car, do you?” Mark slurred.

“Not at all. If you don't feel better when we hit New York, I'll take you to the doctor. You don't want to get sick,” he said.

Mark nodded dumbly.

**

“Mark, we're here,” John said, shaking his passenger gently. “Mark, wakey wakey!”

The body slumped against the window. It looked like the teen had starved to death, his skin stretched tightly against his bones, almost no muscle left on his body.

“Well Mark, I guess you won't get to see New York after all. But look on the bright side you won't be beaten by your parents anymore either, so it looks like you broke even, right?”

Whistling a jaunty little tune, feeling like a man half his age, John hopped out of the car and grabbed a shovel from the trunk. Finding a nice patch of dirt in the field that was far from any houses and the main road he began to dig a hole. It wouldn't have to be too deep, he would be heading for California in the morning. Lots of hitchhikers could be found there, and he was always ready to give them a ride.

Adam looked up, the ritual was completed and he had his family's power, plus his own, and now it was time for him to get his MID. He hoped that the MCO would attempt to dissappear him, that would cause some good old chaos.

---

"Umm... Dad, you're supposed to be KIA, so it is really not a good idea for you to show up on the demonstration of my powers, I will just say that you are still with the screamers in the screamatorium, like I had expected you to be." Adam looked at the manifested form of his dad's 'soul'. They still hadn't figured out what part of the soul the First one specifically copied, but that would be insignificant. Just like the fact that he was a Wiz-3, at the least, that wouldn't be noted on this temporary MID.

---

Adam looked at his MID, this would do for now, until he came to Whateley and got himself a real one with people Circe trusted, that would be enough for him. He looked at his manifested form, and then at his nametag, he found it quite annoying that he was forced to wear a nametag that made it clear it was him, and not just a random passerby who was looking at the local MCO office.

---

Adam sighed happily, the road to Whateley had been relatively quiet, of course that might have had something to do with the fact that he had manifested the form of a former child soldier, looking both innocent and threatening. He entered Whateley and was almost immediately stopped. "Hey there seccurity, I am expected, Adam, no last name given, new Soldier of Honour, technically Soldier of Greatest Honour Never Once Broken and Awarded Several Important Medals From All Ages and Time Periods Including From Before The Sundering. Want to see my MID?"

The security officer looked a little put off by Adam's demeaner, so he took his MID from a pocket in Soldier of Honour's jacket, and handed it to the officer. "Wait, you were not joking about your name? Also, this looks good and it fits with what Circe said." Adam looked up cheerfully. "Ooh, mommy still teaches here? And where is Mr. Geintz, I thought about his name really hard, but he didn't come."

Mr. Geintz then appeared. Next to the security officer. "You can go now, I have warned both Circe and already set up someone to lead him through the facilities. Adam, your father was in Twain, so you will also be there, especially since you appearantly have more control over your power than him."

---

The tour was boring, though Adam did give the Homer Gallery a souvenir of his, his awarded medals from his previous lifes. "This is the outfit of the previous Soldier of Honour, my father, I find it a bit outdated to carry around all the medals, so I intend to design a new outfit." This statement was met with several protests from the dead surrounding him, but he shut them up with threatening to send them to the screamatorium.

---

"So you are my new roommate." Adam's roommate was a GSD case, and he was also an underdog, judging his armband. Adam nodded. "Sorry, I should have introduced me earlier, I am Dunkel, minor GSD, Underdog and I can make people stop seeing color. My name is from before my real power testing, when the people from my hometown believed that I could make people blind, that was before I was tested, but the name stuck, and now I use it to intimidate people... And I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

Adam smiled and shook Dunkel's hand. "My name is Adam, and my father was the previous Soldier of Honour, I have his powers in addition to my own powers, and honestly, if I didn't have my family's legacy, I would be weaker than you. All I can do is make willing spirits of the dead manifest in this world. My codename is usually shortened to Soldier of Honour because in reality it is Soldier of Greatest Honour Never Once Broken and Awarded Several Important Medals From All Ages and Time Periods Including From Before The Sundering. Talk about a mouth full."

While idly looking through some old Livejournal posts from a good ten years ago or more, on subjects such as Godomy , Concluded Loins , The Death Eaters' Manifesto , Legendary Hash Brownies , and The Tent Peg of Homosexuality +5 , I rediscovered this little gem . Not a Whateley micro, but still worth seeing, I hope:

"The Skiffy Masters of old were in touch with the whole of the Genre, and kept the Pulp and the Snark in harmony. But as the Skiffy Order grew and matured, there came an unease with the destructive potential of the Snark, and the balance was lost. The wielders of the Pulp Side wage civil war with the wielders of the Snark, who became known as the SF Lords. Arrogant and powerful, they sneered at the bright cheerfulness and humanistic positivism of the Pulp, instead embracing the darkness of cynicism and dystopia. At length the SF Master Dork Harlan came to rule for many long ages, until the SF were again overthrown. The Skiffy, thinking the Lords of the SF utterly de-storyed, slid into self-congratulatory decadence, unaware of the returning Snarkness that in shadows moved to strike...

Legend speaks of a Chosen One, who will bring balance back to the Genre. Will this Skiffy Messiah save the Skiffy, or de-story them?"

(Oh, one year at Frolicon I once tried to organize a reading of "Hortus Conclusus" on Sunday morning, similar to how some other cons have readings of "The Eye of Argon". I never went back, though, so I don't know if it caught on.)

"What the Hell just happened?" Bruce said nervously.

"I don't know!" cried Thulia, "One moment we're getting ready for that all-appendages meeting, and the next, it's total Pandemonium!"

20 September 2016
As she came down to see about the note she had just gotten that someone wished to speak to her, Hikaru was surprised to see an unfamiliar woman dressed in the same sort of 'professorial' manner favored by most of the teachers, waiting at Concierge's desk. Once she arrived at the desk, the woman gave a formal bow and address her in Japanese.

"Your Highness, I hope you are well. My name is Sasaki Kaori, and I am a graduate student working for Professor Colins in the astronomy department. I have been looking forward to having a chance to speak with you, but I held off on the request of Dean Shugendo until you had a chance to get settled here properly. It is an honor to meet you."

"It is good to meet you then, Sasaki-sensei. It is always good to meet a fellow from our nation, when traveling so far from home."

"Thank you, my lady, though I fear I am not yet a teacher myself. I am honored that you would say so, however. I had hoped that my... dear friend, Sasaki Ami, would be able to meet you as well, but she was, ah, indisposed. She is studying veterinary medicine at the University of New Hampshire and could not be excused even for this, I am afraid." Kaori seemed to blush a bit at that, and Hikaru noticed that the woman was fiddling nervously with what appeared to be a wedding ring.

"I see... is your friend a relative of your husband, then?"

At this, Ms. Sasaki went pale. "She is, we are quite... close. The laws in some states of this country do allow, ah, unusual arrangements, recently. I did not wish to concern you with my personal life, however. I am certain that you have matters to attend to besides these."

"Yes, of course. Good day, Ms. Sasaki." She gave a bow, which Sasaki returned, and she watch the older woman leave.

Samantha sobbed in her workshop, ashamed of her human body, of how weak it was, how ugly it was. She'd fired Wendy that morning and her shop was closed. Jewellery didn't interest her anymore. Only one thing mattered.

The choker laid in front of her. It wouldn't do, it was too easy to rip off. If she lost the crystal she didn't know what she'd do. There had to be a better, safer design. No one could take it from her. It was HERS!

She sketched out some patterns, knowing she needed something that would be hard to break and would keep it hidden. An hour later she had the right design. Running to the computer she ordered titanium.

Marni scratched her short hair, wishing she still had the pretty cornrows. But keeping her hair clean enough to make them look good had proven impossible in the squat she called home.

Tyson held her close as they listened to a cheap MP3 with even crappier speakers playing some stupid pop song. “You've done really good the last few weeks, Mar.”

“Thanks.”

“No I mean it. We've got more money to share, you got the gangs off our backs. We're doing better now than I could ever believe. And we owe it all to you,” he said, leaning in to look in her eyes.

She looked into his dark brown eyes and smiled. He wasn't very clean, but she could admire his muscles, his good looks, his protectiveness of his little group. When he leaned in to kiss her, she didn't resist. A little later when he took her to his mattress, she didn't resist either.

Adam looked at Circe, who had summoned him to her office. "So, Circe, what did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to talk about you calling me 'mommy' in public, why did you do that, and why didn't you call me mommy now?" Adam chuckled at the question. "Isn't it obvious? It was to simply emberrass you, nothing more, nothing less. It also keeps people from finding out what kind of relation we used to have, and what kind of relation we most likely are going to have."

---

Adam looked at his opponent, silently conversing with the spirits that were part of him now. Ito-soke, that evil old man, as some spirits said, looked at him and shook his head. "Adam, you are to use your powers, go all out."

Adam looked at Ito in shock. "No, I won't go all out, I will not go all out! It would leave this place in ruins and everyone dead! Even mommy... Circe I mean." Adam than thought and asked permission to a certain spirit. "Allright, I will go as far as I dare to, and use a single spirit."

His opponent laughed. "You think you can defeat me with a single damned spirit?" And then he paled, as he saw what spirit was used. "What did you call me? What did you call me Samuala Jaco Ahnson?" He turned slightly green. "Gramma..."

---

Adam looked into the cage, the spirit of Samuala's grandmother was still speaking, but nodded to him and wrapped up the story. "The winner is Adam, Soldier of Honour!" Ito said as he walked towards him. "So class, what did we learn today?"

"That the biggest bullies are afraid of their grandmothers!" A smartass in the back said it, before realising that he said it out loud. "Oops..."

---

Adam walked into the Crystal hall, Circe said that the food here was pretty good, so he had to check it out... Ooh, looky there, a reincarnation of Ares, if that isn't interesting. He walked towards the reincarnations of the olympian gods and transformed himself of into his body at the time, the second naturally female body they had had.

Ares looked up and asked. "What do you want, mortal?" Adam looked down on the sitting Ares and smiled. "I want you to hear the name you are here under and I want to hear the story of your defeat at the hands of a single 'mortal'."

Ares looked at him. "The name is Counterpoint now and what did you mean by that last sentence. Are you implying that I lost!?"

"No, nothing like that silly little Counterpoint, I am implying that I crushed you. Back then I was called Diriacia, and I defeated you!" Counterpoint stood up deviantly until he got a good look at the sight of Diriacia and paled, he became as white as a sheet and sat down, shaking in his seat.

Adam walked away and Imperious looked at his 'son'. "Who was that, and what happened between you." Counterpoint only looked up and meekly replied. "Evil, that... thing, is evil. Pure evil."

Scott Phillips, no relation to the reporter, was sitting at the counter of his book store keeping half an eye on the goings on of the bi-weakly Game Night. It was good PR to let people try out the games he stocked before they bought them, as it was a pain when the customer bought one and then after one or two games returned the product as being to complicated, confusing, hard to win, an just not what they wanted.

Tonight was a good night; there was a mix of collage students, families with younger kids, as well as a few seniors. His employee, Becca Grant, was move was moving between a cut throat game of Red Dragon Inn that had a half dozen people around the table hunched over their cards and a game of Munchkin that was getting a little on the rowdy side. He didn't have a problem with rowdy, but he did have issue with drunk in his shop, and one of the collage kids who was at the Red Dragon table was speak in a way that had the feel of a drunken ramble when ever it was his turn. But as Scott was about to stand and have a word with the young man, the offender made a face at the cards and moved one of the counters in front of him “And I'm afraid the Great Drunken Master Zakhan has passed out under the table due to that Orce brew. Please try not to trip over him or let Pookie nibble his toes. I am out of the game, unless you're willing to let me play test a home brew character? Or let me grab the Pookie deck...”

The table was unanimous in being willing to let him play test the homebrew, which had Scott smiling in amusement. The student grinned as he pulled some cards from the backpack at his feel. “Sweet. And it's good no one is playing Miss 'don't call me a pixie' Kaylin, cause I think I've worked out how to play Wulfric like Pookie is played.” that prompted a groan that the student spoke over “Don't worry, I used Pookie's rules as a base, but I changed things. The Barmaid is against Wulfric, unlike how she sides with the killer rabbit, and...”

Scott's attention was drawn to the small hearing aid like device tucked discreetly into his ear. “Meta One, this is Tower Local. We have an unidentified craft dropping from what appears to be Low Earth Orbit on radar. Intended landing zone predicted to be the Quarry. Local Law requests Meta assistance in case things go hostel.”

“Why is it always Game night?” Scott muttered to himself before touching a button hidden under the counter. “Meta One copies. ETA less then five.”

“Becky, I'm gonna go make a night deposit and pick up some things. You got this until I get back?” he called, prompting a wave from the young woman who was with a blue haired woman looking over one of the Eldritch Abomination type horror games.

Going out the front door, and reflexively locking it behind him, Scott stepped into the alley that ran down the side of his shop and pulled his shirt open...

The two bracelets and matching anklets were ready. Made of pure titanium, a jewel the same size and colour as the cats eye, was embedded on each one, almost completely covered metal so only a very careful examination would reveal that they were fakes. The bands were rounded for comfort and covered in thin runes carved into the metal over several days of little sleep and even less food.

Samantha slipped the jewellery on, wincing in pain as the hard metal ground against her bones, barely fitting over her hands. The anklets were easier, but she tore off some skin on her ankles. Looking at herself in the mirror, naked except for the jewellery, lit only by a small fire in a silver bowl on her desk and five small burners on the floor, she prepared to say goodbye to herself.

She pulled a silver knife from the fire filled bowl. The blade glowed a dull red, closing her eyes she pressed the knife into her stomach, just below the ribs. Gasping in pain she drew the knife to the side slicing through her flesh. Fat sizzled under the hot blade.

The knife clattered to the ground, splashing blood on her feet.

Trying to stay conscious through the pain, Samantha took the true cats eye jewel and pushed it into the wound. Her insides burned and twisted. She bit through her lip to hold back the scream of pain.

Obsession forced her body to act when all she wanted to do was curl up and scream. She laid down on the ground placing two carefully designed molds on her stomach, one over the cut, the other one on the opposite side of her stomach. Two more went just above her breasts, a final one, the smallest, went just below her throat, still damp glue held them in place. The five small burners held the special molten silver, evenly divided, waiting to be poured.

Taking the first bowl of silver she poured it over the wound, covering the stone, protecting it, and increasing its power. A shriek filled the room alongside the smell of cooking meat. Shaking in agony, she grabbed the second tiny bowl, and poured it into the other mold. It didn't hurt as much, all she felt was bitterly cold except for the two blazing suns she'd placed on her body.

Shaking, barely able to stay conscious as her brain screamed for release, she poured the last three, a few drops spattered across her neck and chest.

With the metal cooling on her seared flesh she let herself pass out, smiling at completing the job.

'Costuming? Advanced String Theory? Predicting the Future for Non-Psychics? Wow!' Tom continued to thumb through the Whateley Academy Course Catalog quietly exclaiming to himself at the courses he would be able to take next fall when he started as a freshman. He knew he shouldn't be looking at the book in public but it was the center of the city where no one paid attention to anyone else and the only person at the bus stop was a little old lady humming distractedly to herself.

It was when he starting to search for the prerequisites for Law Enforcement Topics when he was startled by a ruckus just down the street. Straining, Tom saw a brightly-colored, spandexed man with an overlarge sword casually cutting cars in half as he charged down the thoroughfare, chased by the police who fired inffectively at him. Tom furrowed his brow in concern at the approaching miscreant. Screaming crowds fled before the man and then Tom knew what he had to do.

Taking a breath to steady his nerves he shoved the catalog into his backpack. He then tugged the old woman into the entryway of a nearby store and used his coat to cover them as the screaming crowd, villain and police passed by. When they were gone the old woman patted him on the cheek with a muttered "such a good boy" and went back to waiting for the bus. Tom pulled out his catalog and went back to working out whether he would need Basic Martial Arts or one of its alternatives.

Join us next time on Scenes You'll Never See At Whateley when we hear Doctor Deviso say: "No, no! Shut it down! Shut it all down! The experiment is far too dangerous to continue!"

"Well, Cerulea, I actually have to applaud your self-restraint," said Morgana, looking down at the pantsed boy with the broken DVD lodged in his rectum, "I would have fried him for that sort of prank, myself."

Still fuming, Laura replied, "Uhm, well, it's not the first time someone made a joke about that movie, and I didn't have any weapons on me...". Then she blushed, and muttered, "And, I, ah, well, I had a torrent of it myself before I changed, actually." She sighed and just watched the jewel case liner for the copy of La Blue Girl flutter away on the wind.

Walking behind the well dressed woman, Marni tried not to look out of place. She'd managed to find a nice outfit at a thrift store, and could wander around the better neighbourhoods without drawing much attention. The pickings were better and people weren't quite as cautious.

If the woman would just slow down a little, she could do a snatch and grab. It wasn't as elegant as picking a pocket, but she could sell the purse for a good price.

Finally the woman slowed, Marni flexed and felt the power surge within her. Then she stopped dead. The woman turned into a building, and Marni saw a little sign that had been too small and far away to see properly a second before, “Mutant Commission Office.”

Powering down, she started walking again, trying to act as casually as possible. No way was she going to commit a crime anywhere near the MCO.

As she made her way down the block, she heard a cry of shock. Spinning around, a thick black smoke filled the air at the same moment as something encircled her. Before she could power up an electrical shock ran through her body, she hit the ground with a painful thud.

“Daddy,” she moaned as consciousness faded away.

“Meta One to Tower Local, I am on site but out of sight. Activating hero cam. Have LEOs reassign patrols to cordoning off the area, and have them bring up what ever units they have that are power armor certified. Also call in the rest of the team.” Scott said softly into his com as he hung a mile or so above the quarry that the unidentified object had come to rest in. “Mmm, Tower, are you receiving visuals? Tell me you're seeing what I am seeing, and that I am not hallucinating pastel colored naked pony people whose skin kind of looks like rubber or dried latex.”

“Meta One, Visual is clear. We can confirm that they are pastel colored horse-form beings. Leo command is asking if these are possibly Ani-men?”

“Not unless Dr DNA made a batch while he was high on something. I suppose they could be knock offs who hired Giz's kid to do the work. As much as I loath to say it, have the LEOs pull back and call up the nearest Knights of Purity lance. There are a lot of these things and I have gone against Warhorse so know what damage Ani-men can do. We also don't know if they have back up or not.”

“Relevant parties have been informed, Meta One, and are being patched into the com system as they get within range. Tack Z is private scramble.”

/I don't think these gals are as nice as the ponies Val likes to watch/ Scott thought as he watched the Ponies, as he had labeled them. He could see there where made up of males and females of the species, and that there where some differences in body form that seemed to denote a pecking order. All of them sported some kind of brand or tattoo on their flanks. The ones who looked the most like Animen seemed to be at the bottom where doing most of the work. Scott noted their markins where the least elaborate of the lot. The next tier's markings where more complex and seemed to be made up of two body types; one which instead of arms had small feathered wings that had two fingers and a thumb. He couldn't quite tell what the winged ones where up to, other then digging into a few crates and bossing around the basic model Pony. The other members of the second tier each had two horns that resembled those of a bull or ram. The Winged and Horned ones bossed the basic Ponies around equally, and they where not gentle about it. The one that looked to be in overall charge was a blending of the Winged and Horned; she had three Prong Horn like spikes rising from her skull and her wing-arms seemed more robust then the basic Winged. She was also just sitting around directing the chaos without getting her feathers dirty.

Scott absently rubbed at his left ear trying to get at the itch that was bothering him like it did every time he used his powers. “Shit, looks like they're done setting up and are putting together a raiding party. One of the males just tromped out with what looks like... purple and green dragons? The frack? I'm gonna try and keep them corralled.”

“Good luck Meta One. Meta Two and Three should be with you shortly.”

Scott didn't reply as his form lit up in a nimbus of green and blue light that crackled and danced as he descended.

>All right, this planet is the source of the Choc O Ba, if that smuggler wasn't lieing out of his third sphincter in hopes of us letting him go.< Afterglow Spark, leader of the pirate band stated as she looked over the pad she clutched in her light purple feathered wings. She pointed to most senior of her Winged subordinates, a small busted, blue skinned specimen who kept her mane clipped short. >Chimera Scurry, take Flitter and fly cover for Rustic Standard. Take the hand scanners and find some of those Choc O Bas. The more the better. Common, take Three Point, the Impalers, and Humo...<

>Mistress!< The pink colored Three Point barked pointing into the air, a massive gun having teleported into her grip. How exactly that worked as they didn't have a telepad, no one had figured out in the years they'd shipped with her. >Incoming.<

Afterglow frowned as she took in the approaching figure. >He said these beings where primitive. No threat to us...< she growled as energy played over her horns.

The native came to a halt hanging in mid air. It seemed to be made out of dark glass that had wisps of green, blue and red fire playing over it. “I am Pinnacle. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Afterglow looked over her crew an eyebrow raised. >Any idea what the native is chattering about.<

>Negative Mistress. I say we just shoot it down and if it survives take it to the gladiator pits.< Three Point sad with a sadistic grim.

>Agreed. Open fire.< Afterglow confirmed as she let loose a bolt of dark energy from her horns. Common did like wise with her own blue tinged energy. Three Point's gun spat out a shell that detonated into a mess of metallic ribbons. Flitter and Scurry hastily pulled metallic backpack's on and two guns flipping up from the packs as Scurry took to the air and Flitter commanded the Impalers to attack. The scaled beasts let loose with blasts of green fire. Rustic snorted and grunted as she picked up a slab of stone and chucked it at the native.

The native held it's forelimbs up and a shimmering wall appeared to block the energy blasts. How ever Three Point's tangle shell managed to pas through and wrap around the native, binding three of it's limbs.

I have some more one-shot pieces from the old site that I'm going to re-post here.

excerpted from Sara's Little Purple Book, Third Edition, 2016
Created Humanoids (Drow, Orcs, Merfolk, etc.)

One of the more disconcerting facts of modern life, for both normal and mutant humans, is the existence of 'races' of humanoids which are the result of genetic engineering by bio-devisors. While these peoples are few in number, with the major exception of the drow, their very existence raises questions about what it means to be human.

It is important to remember that, no matter how different they may look from ordinary humanity, they are just as human as anyone else, and suffer from all of the issues of self-image and self-worth as anyone else. The transformation which they have undergone - quite possibly unwillingly, especially in the case or orc prisoners, or merfolk who were struck with the contagious form of the condition before it was brought under control - has, in many cases, brought significant mental anguish, of a sort not easily understood save by other transformees, or those suffering from GSD.

Fortunately, there are relatively few who have voluntarily undergone these processes. Far and away, the most common type of 'demi-human' are the Drow, and unlike the Orc or the Merfolk, nearly all Drow have undergone the transformation willingly. The reasons why one would subject themselves to such a dramatic alteration are varied, some being obvious - Exemplar-level strength and beauty, ageless longevity, potent levels of regeneration - other less so. Equally well-known are the down side of drow life. Aside from the rumored 'Karedonian loyalty programming' which supposedly is part of the transformation (a spurious claim - while I personally have little use for Jobe Wilkins, I do know that she would not stoop to such means, at least not where the Drow are concerned), the changes in sexuality are notable.

Drow sex is, to put it bluntly, addictive, especially between first-time lovers. A Drow female, on having intercourse with a male for the first time, becomes sensitized to that male's semen, and is unable to achieve full satisfaction except with that partner. Conversely, the vaginal fluids of Drow females are powerfully addictive (and, for reasons known only to Jobe herself, almond scented), such that lovers of either sex become infatuated with the woman in question. The intensity of this has caused quite a few murders, and no small number of suicides.

For those considering the drow transformation, these facts alone should give one pause. But there is more than this to think about. First off the process is by no means fool-proof; while the use of anti-regenerative drugs has brought to odds of success up to 95%, there remains the possibility of a total or partial loss of memories and personality, or conversely, of a quasi-cancerous runaway reaction leading to a hideously painful death. Even if successful, it is a one-way street; the only way to 'undo' the transformation is a mental image transfer, and that only worsens the problem, as there would now be two of you (the drow-transformed original, and the imperfectly cloned copy). Few people, no matter how disappointed with their lives, would be ready to cope with a radically altered self, seeing a new face in the mirror every morning for the rest of their potentially very long lives. The fact that this new face and body is the creation of a teen genius - emphasis on 'teen' - may prove more shocking than you would imagine if you were a person of ordinary looks beforehand.

Finally, one must face the very real possibility - due to Jobe Wilikins imperfect foresight in matters mystical - that you will develop some degree of magical affinity, thanks to the fae contributions to the drow genome. All of the comments made regarding Wizards would apply to Drow magics.

Drow females: Be extremely selective in choosing a male mate, if at all. You will be bound to this person for the rest of their life, and more importantly, the rest of your life - which, with a human partner, may be much longer than theirs. It is not by chance that the majority of female Drow are bisexual, nor is it just because it suited Jobe's fourteen year old imagination when he first created the female Drow form. Furthermore, all the caveats which apply to Exemplars and Regenerators now apply to you as well.

Normals: It is important to remember that a Drow lover did not always look as they do now, and may have emotional issues which linger from their past. Do not be surprised to learn that they had GSD or other disfiguring conditions in the past. Also, nearly 20% of all Drow are transgendered, especially among those who transformed in the first three years of the female Drow serum (before the male equivalent was completed). Be patient with any 'surprises' from their past, but at the same time, do not let their past color your view of who they are today.

Washoma looked upon her latest creation,and found it good.

The body was, in all ways, perfect. How could it not be? Just as she had with her other great creation, the Artificer, the creature before her in the development tube was her own flesh and blood - her genetic pattern, to be specific - mingled with technology and magic in ways which others of her people were unwilling to dare. Washoma refused to be cowed by their fears. This was what those Isokist who had survived the Great Darkness - and had not yet fled with the Telemap beyond the Universe - had sought for all the long, bleak centuries since the opening of the Gateway. The ultimate weapon against their foes.

All that remained was to Bind the new being, as she had done the Artificer millenia earlier. That same Artificer now brought to her the tools for Binding - a simple needle of mithril, and a metallic colored ink - and then arranged the body to be lowered out of the nutrient bath to a working table below.

So intent upon her work was Washoma that she failed to notice the Guards who had come to arrest her. She had not even set the special needle to the Scourge's skin once when they seized her. She pled with them to let her finish her work, but as she watched the creature on the table begin to stir, she knew it was too late..

I, Leonides Augustin Diabolik, am now writing to the world to explain the actions of a lifetime. For all the 'crimes' I have been responsible for, I have at all times had the future of Humanity at heart, and have long sought for nothing but to advance the interests of the world as whole. I have acted outside of the law, not out of evil intent, but because there were many things which needed to be done which the governments and corporations of the world were ignoring. I have sought only to bring change for the whole human race, baseline and mutant alike. I do not seek to justify the less fortunate results of my actions, only to explain why I have done what I have, and let history judge me fairly.

I was born in 1936, to Karole and Natalia Diabliku, in the city of Ploesti, Romania. My parents were both well-educated - father was a petrochemical engineer, my mother, originally from Yugoslavia, an elementary school teacher - but not extraordinary intellects. The did, however, see to it that I was well educated from an early age, and even when Romania's pro-fascist government was drawn into the Second World War, I was already reading such classics as a child could grasp.

In June of 1941, as everyone knows, the Nazi regime invaded the Soviet Union with the intention of wiping the Communists out and enslaving the peoples of that nation. While Romania did not engage in the conflict initially, an incident in which a Russian bombing mission accidentally - or perhaps deliberately - destroyed a Romanian town on the Soviet border brought the country in on the side of the Axis Powers. Many of my earliest memories are of huddling in a bunker as Allied warplanes struck at the oil fields outside of the city. It was in on such attack that my father was killed. This experience - and the realization that both sides were equally responsible for the tragedy that was befalling the whole wide world - left an indelible impression on my mind.

After the war, Romania, like most of the Eastern European nations, was supposed to hold free elections, but the occupying Soviets had them rigged so as to favor the Communist Party. These were hard times for everyone in the country, but because of my mother's job, we managed better than most - the need for educators was seen as of paramount importance by the Communists, and while they insisted she undergo 'retraining' to adapt to the new regime's view, she was able to continue teaching, which she would do until the day she died.

I, meanwhile, was rapidly proving to be something of as young prodigy, especially in the sciences and engineering. I was able to complete my basic education by the age of 14, and entered University the next year. By the age of 20 I had completed a doctorate in biochemistry, and was working in another in aeronautics when my life took a dramatic turn.

I had written a paper on the subject of space flight and the potential effects of zero-gravity on longevity; it was rejected as too speculative by the academics I worked with, and rightly so, but somehow the work had gotten into the hands of the USSR's Chief of Rocketry Engineering, the great Sergei Korolev. He arranged for me to be invited to work at Baikonur - a great honor for a non-Russian, at the time - and after several personal interviews with the 'Chief Scientist' (I was not to learn his name until after his death many years later, due to the security issues), was put to work on the design of the spacesuits for his forward-looking but highly secretive manned space projects. This, you must remember, was 1956, a time when manned space travel was considered a fanciful dream, and even the Object D Project - which would eventually lead to the Sputnik the next year - was nothing more than an adjunct to the ballistic missile program. The funding for the manned work was being diverted from other projects, initially, and had we been caught it would have gone quite badly. It was only after the success of the second Sputnik that sending a man into orbit was seriously considered a national priority.

Even without knowing his real identity, I got to know the Chief Scientist well, and we would often discuss the human race's future in space over dinner. However, this did not sit well with the Russian authorities, so in 1960 I was re-assigned to work on engine designs with Academician Glushko, a long-time rival of Korolev's who made it clear that he resented my close relationship with his former friend. This would lead me to be present at what is known in the West as the Nedelin Disaster, in which a missile caught fire and exploded on the pad during fuelling, killing seventy-one engineers and officers as well as Marshal Nedelin himself. I was fortunate enough to be in the launch bunker when the explosion occurred, but even with the thick concrete walls, I and the others there were nearly roasted alive. I would spend over a month in a hospital recovering from a large number of second degree burns.

I was realizing that the Soviet government saw space travel as nothing more than a way to improve national standing, and had no interest in bringing the advantages of spaceflight to the masses. Worse, it was clear the the Western powers were no different. While the success of Gagarin's first flight in April 1961 was a tremendous boost to me and the others working on the project, it was growing clear to me that more needed to be done, and that it could not be achieved working as just a cog in the Soviet machine.

Then, in October 1962, came the Cuban Missile Crisis. While few in the Soviet sphere of influence were fully aware of the scope of the crisis, as one of the missile engineers I was partially briefed on the threat of a war breaking out and the need for immediate launch readiness. I was aghast that either of the two major powers would risk so much on such a minor gambit. It was this, more than anything, that convinced me that I had to escape from the Russians' domination.

I finally got my chance in early 1963, when I was allowed to return to Romania for the New Year's celebrations. I was able to quickly ascertain a way to get a hold of a small watercraft on the Black Sea, and sailed to Turkey over the course of four days. I immediately turned myself into the authorities, declaring my intention to defect.

Queen Mab looked over the courtyard from the balcony of the palace, and felt a great sorrow at the loss to come. She gathered herself up, however, and prepared to address the throngs below.

"My dearest children," she began, "together with the children of my sister Aunghadhail, know that a terrible time has come. Our beloved King has fallen, and soon Atlantis itself may be undone. The Enemy even now gathers his unholy power to strike at us, though it cost his own existence in doing so. The world we have so long cherished has come to an end."

"But hope springs forth from even this darkest hour. Already I and my wizards work to prepare a place for you in the distant future, far beyond the Sundering that is to come. How I wish I could join you in this distant posterity! But the time of the Fae has come to an end, and if any of us survive, you will find them much diminished from our current heights. But you, dear humans, and you, the Werefolk, shall see a new day when you shall live on. Farewell, dear children, and know that you are cherished."

Turning away from the crowd below, Mab strode purposefully into the Chamber of the Circle that was prepared for this mighty working they were already begining.

To her surprise, however, she found herself stopped short by three others.

The first of the three to speak was the exiled Ptesanwi, who had led her people to Atlantis as refuge from The Bastard. "My Queen, I thank you for the succor you and yours have given my People," the godling began, "yet even now that shelter is failing. I have heard of your plan to send the Humans and Weres to a future time, where they could escape the destruction of the Five-Fold Court."

"I beg you, send my folk with them! The Katchina have already lost all they have and all they were. It is the least that can be done to salvage those few who remain of the People. Can you not see to this?"

Mab saw the desperation in the Black Buffalo Calf Woman's eyes, and felt her heart melt. "Let it be done. We still have time to change the spell to accomodate your People, but we must be quick about it if it is to succeed."

"Success is not yet in your grasp,", interjected Titania, second-eldest of the Nine Queens. "The time you have chosen is too short, not enough to protect those who are to go forth in this manner. A mere hundred centuries will place them firmly in the grasp of the Bastard's servitors, and even ten times that span will not suffice. We must cast them to a time far beyond even our own long ages if your mission is to have any hope."

"I see... how far must they travel? An era? Two? More?"

"Much more," said Lenedhal, youngest yet in some ways wisest of the Queens. "No less than three-score eras must pass before they can find safe haven."

"Sixty million years?" cried Mab, staggered by the sheer depth of such a time. "No Faerie has ever contemplated such a span of time! Even the Founding King did choose to live no more than two eras! It is inconceivable!"

"It is necessary," Titania said with a shake of her head. "And there is more."

"More?" Mab replied, confused.

"Neither the Humans, nor the Were, nor the Katchina, will be able to survive the world they awaken to unchanged. They would find themselves in a wilderness the like of which they would be unable to cope with."

"The three of us have discussed what must be done," said Ptesanwi. "We are in agreement. The three peoples must be as one, bound together in a way we can hardly envisage. They will mingle their selves with each other, and only in this way can they survive."

"They must also be... changed to suit the future world. They shall not arise immediately in the world to come, but must develop - evolve - to live in the changed world."

"I have foreseen that there shall arise a beast that might serve as their future host," said Lenedhal, "a simple ape not unlike those from which the Humans and Were had been first molded. This shall be their future: that as an era or more should pass, they shall begin to arise, and over long ages begin to reform themselves to become Human once more. The Werefolk shall be as a branch of this new Humanity, and the spirits of the Katchina shall be borne by a portion among them as well. This I foresee as the only hope of their success."

"I see," said Mab, still shocked by this proposal. "Do we have the time to change the Working to accomodate this?"

"Yes, but we must make haste. There is still time for one more matter, however."

"Yet more changes to the plan? What do you have in mind?"

"Each of the three of us have prepared a... gift, for the reborn Humanity. They must be prepared to face the possibility of a return of the Enemy, and to this end, we shall each grant them a boon."

"Tell me of these boons..." said Mab warily.

"Mine shall be Insight," said Ptesanwi, "The time will come when they will need to be every bit as clever as we, and so I have planted in them that their intelligence shall grow beyond what it is today, for a few rivalling that of the Wisest of our era. Not all shall reach this capacity, but for a few, it will make the difference between life and death."

"And I shall gift them with with Magic," spoke Titania, "While it will never come to them as effortlessly as it does to us, some - those with the will to master the power - shall be able to learn how to wield it."

"My gift is the most important," declared Lenedhal, "the new race shall eventually need protectors of great might, to guard them from the Darkness. To this end, I shall place within them the seed of Power, such that a few among them shall be like unto the Gods themselves in their abilities. Only a few shall carry this potential, and fewer still the gift itself, but when the time is ripe they shall arise among the new Humans in great variety to see them through the trials that lie ahead of them."

"Three gifts of great wonder," said Mab at last. "Let us hope they use them wisely. Come sisters, we must see this done before time escapes us."

Samantha woke up on the floor of her workshop.

The memory of pain made her yowl and clutch at her stomach. But there was no pain now, only strength. The silver seemed to be part of her, the delicate whorls flexed with her skin, there was no edge to it, just a smooth transition from cool silvery smoothness to black fur, tinged white at the tips.

Rising to her feet in a motion as smooth as silk, she ran a hand over her taut new body. She was perfect. Her whiskers twitched at the dust that filled the air. A faint breeze stirred through her fur, making her shiver with delight. Her ears twisted a little to better hear the whine of a mosquito. Closing her eyes, she tracked it as it came closer. Without consciously acting she snatched it out of the air, squishing it her new skin could feel the grit of the insects body as it was ground between her fingers.

Smiling she swore that she'd never be the boring, ugly person she had once been. Now she was going to have some fun. Putting on a sexy dress that she would never have dreamed of wearing before, she made her way out of the shop, ready to start her new life.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” a female voiced shadow asked as it and another slipped into the men's locker room and made their way to one of the lockers.

“No, but it should be funny.” was the laughing reply. There was a few moments of fumbleing then a soft click. “Ok, it's open. Switch things out.”

~

“Cody, you're up for your combat final.” Lanie said giving her fiancee a light poke in the ribs. The shaggy haired second year senior looked up from the medical textbook that had been open on his lap.

“Thanks.” Cody grunted as he stood after marking his place with a feather bookmark Kayda had given him as a souvenir of the road trip she, Lanie and Tansy had taken the summer before. Besides being an interesting looking piece of artwork, the beads and a few other pieces of the book mark where enchanted to protect what ever book it was tucked into. Usually her kept it protecting his Atlantian League play book, but today...

Da Bear gave him a light mental Gibb's slap and growled. “Focus Cody.”

A very bear like grunt was Cody's reply as he made his way down to the locker room where his costume was stored. It had evolved from the pro-wrestler style of his first four years at Whateley, with Lanie and a few other's help. At it's base was still a leotard like garment, but it was now made out of Kevra and one of Mobiu's utility belts full of medical and magical supplies as well as a few hold outs and distance weapons. Kayda, of all people, had beaten into him that he couldn't just wade in as a brawler all the time, some times distance was needed to take down a dangerous enemy.

Unlocking his locker Cody frowned at the garments hanging within. “The hell?” he muttered taking a few long sniffs, hoping the Bear's nose could identify the culprit.

“If you don't hurry up you will forfeit.” Da Bear rumbled as he projected himself into the real world. The spectral being paused and looked into the locker for himself, and a frown creased his muzzle. “I... oh my. That's worse then I thought...”

“Thought you'd say that. Could be worse, there could be no pants and just a leather jacket. Or hair dye.” Cody grumbled as he began to strip down. “I hope we don't get sued for this.”

~

Cody rolled his neck as he stepped into the arena wearing just a pair of jeans and his utility belt. In his hands he carried a long handled shovel and a dark brown wide brimmed hat. Squaring his shoulder he let the Bear emerge, changing him from a hairy young man into a towering Bear-man. Lifting his head the Kodiak fixed his attention on the Three Little Witches, causing them to shrink back in their seats. He'd done what he could to keep his promise to them, the three where in the Alpha's after a fashion, as each took a turn on the Alpha Council, but it wasn't like it was before, and his current get up was their way of showing their displeasure.

Or really it was Clover's.

Giving the trio a nod he tugged the forest ranger wide brim snugly onto his head before swinging the shovel over his shoulder.

This whole topic of "what's next for Ayla" got me thinking, and with other things I've written, an idea popped into my brain and wouldn't leave until I wrote the following microscene. It's one that I can almost guarantee will never be canon, so here goes:

****************************************

Ayla, I Think We Have a Problem

BKCRMWDJVG felt something tug in his dimension, as if part of him was being tugged through some kind of hole. Slowly, part of him perceived a reality, the world where he'd once nearly established a foothold until he'd been defeated and pushed back by that ... person!

He found a small part of his consciousness within a spell circle, looking at a girl who was so intent on her working that she didn't notice the intrusion from another dimension. She was working a curse of some kind, BKCRMWDJVG realized, and as he examined it, he realized that the target was the same person who'd defeated him. And by coincidence, somehow the working against his human enemy had weakened the gateway between dimensions so that he could project a tiny bit through to Earth. And now, he grinned maliciously as he realized that he ha a perfect chance for revenge!

Watching the girl work her essence into her very complicated spell, BKCRMWDJVG decided to help. He pulled some extra-dimensional energy and channeled the alien power, mixing it with the girl's essence, amplifying its power and pushing his own evil intent toward her target.

**********

Ayla kissed his girlfriend that he was lying beside, their sweaty, nude bodies interwined. A strange tingling went through him just as their passion reached its pinnacle, and both he and Addy seemed to be momentarily overwhelmed.

Adalie Vitesse relaxed and leaned back a bit. "You really know 'ow to make a girl feel special," she said breathlessly.

Ayla kissed her again. "That was ... intense."

"Oui," the French girl responded. She started to wiggle back from him, but then she frowned. "Ayla," she said, suddenly concerned, "something is wrong."

Ayla paused to think, and then his eyes narrowed, too. "Yeah. Something doesn't feel right."

The pair of lovers eased their bodies apart and looked down. The screams from both of them was heard all up and down the halls of their wing of Poe.

**********

"Say WHAT?" Ayla and Addy gawked at Fey, who'd come running at the scream.

"You've been cursed," Fey said again. "And ... it's a very complicated spell, but worse, it appears to include some ... extradimensional demonic magic energy that ... kind of scrambled the spell. I really don't think it's doing what it was supposed to do."

"Okay, what does that mean? And how can you fix it?" Ayla demanded.

Fey winced. "It means that ...," she bit her lip, trying to figure out how to phrase the answer, "that every time you, you know," she grimaced and glanced at Addy, who was also rather shocked, "when you ... have sex, you're going to swap ... parts ... with your partner."

"You mean ... I'm stuck?" Ayla practically screamed. "Like this?"

"And me?" Addy chimed in, in total shock.

Fey winced again. "No, it's ... it's a curse. Every time ... you'll swap parts."

"What?" Ayla demanded. "You mean to get my ... parts back, I have to ... you know?"

Fey's roommate Toni laughed aloud at Ayla's dilemma. "Look at it this way, Ayles," she guffawed. "You and Addy have a chance to see how the other side lives."

"Per'aps," Addy suggested hesitantly, "we should ... you know, to get things right again."

"But ...!" Ayla protested.

"Can it be so bad?" Toni asked. "I mean, you've been doing the shtupping up to now. It's only fair that you get shtupped for a change!"

"I suppose we should get it over with," Ayla said resignedly. "You'll work on a fix?" he asked Fey anxiously.

"Yeah, I'll get on it. I'll probably get Kayda to help, too - she's a little better at unraveling spells."

As the pair reluctantly turned toward the door, Toni called after them with a laugh. "Oh, Ayles? Until the curse gets removed, you want to be careful. You could get knocked up now, you know, and who knows what that'd do to the spell?"

Ayla's expression went further into the realm of despair, looking like he was on his way to his own execution.

"And Addy?" Toni added. "Be gentle. It's his first time, after all." After Addy led a reluctant Ayla out of their room, Toni thought a moment. "I know a couple of girls on the third floor who'd give anything to 'experiment' with Ayla while he's got that curse."

**********

BKCRMWDJVG screamed in rage. His attempt to help curse Ayla Goodkind had misfired somehow, making a total hash of the spell. Instead of striking down the Goodkind, his experiment at mixing his dimension's energy with Earth magic had merely messed up The Goodkind's body more, leaving some curse burned into his flesh. Now he'd have to start over looking for a way to get his revenge.

Ayla We Have a Problem - pt 2


"So, what are you going to do?" Nikki asked Ayla as she, Ayla, and Toni walked to dinner. Like all of Team Kimba, they were curious about the spat that had happened between Ayla and Addy - which had the two not talking for several several days now.

"I ... I think it's bad," Ayla said hesitantly.

"Are you two going to break up?" Toni asked.

Ayla shook his head. "Can't. Not right now, anyway."

"What do you mean, you can't break up with her right now, Ayles?" Toni asked. "Oh, yeah, the business deal."

"No, that's not it. The import business is pretty much running on autopilot, and we've got a 5-year deal inked."

"Then why?" Toni pushed into a subject that Ayla was uncomfortable with.

"Because ... she's still got it," Ayla mumbled unhappily.

"What?"

Nikki decided to clarify. "Toni, Kayda and I haven't unraveled the curse yet."

Toni's eyebrows arched wide and her jaw dropped. "When you say she's still got it, you're talking about the BIG IT, aren't you?"

Ayla nodded glumly. "We had an argument after the last time we, well, you know, and she's had custody since."

"Which means you've got ...." Toni nearly fell over laughing, tears of mirth streaming from her eyes. "And ... .wasn't the last time you two did the mattress mamba some time ago?"

"Don't remind me," Ayla snorted. "It's been almost three weeks,"

"You do realize that, any time now, you might get a full initiation into womanhood, don't you?" Nikki tried to speak diplomatically.

"Guys," Ayla whined at the guffaws and chortles from his companions, "this is serious! I ... I can't keep it!"

"Then, my friend," Nikki suggested, "you better figure out some way to apologize and get her in the mood to seduce you, or you'll be a long-term member of the V club." Seeing his confusion, Nikki leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "The Vagina Club."

Toni nodded. "If you want to avoid having a period, you better make nice-nice to Addy so you can .... well, so she can boink your brains out. And toot sweet."

"We'll all help you get really dolled up so she can't resist you, and then you make magic happen."

"And then you're going to get this curse figured out so you can remove it, right?" Ayla demanded.

"We're working on it, Ayles," Nikki rebutted.

"And Ayles?" Toni added almost as an afterthought, "you might want to go visit Dr. Tenent. For some ... precautions."

Ayla nodded his agreement with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man.

“Why am I always the one they try to tie up? I am not into bondage or a damsel in distress.” Scott muttered as a nimbus of energy coalesced around his free hand and formed a short energy blade which he began using to try and cut the ribbons binding him. But like his shield, what ever the ribbons where made of allowed them to ignore the energy he was producing.

“Maybe it's the universe trying to tell you you're to much of a stick in the mud Meta One.” a woman's voice over the coms laughed.

“Ha ha. Pigeon, cut me loose.” Scott grumbled.

“Sure thing.” A dull gray form swooped past Scott, wing 'feathers' slicing through the tangle shell with delicate ease, and the barest hitch in Pidgeon's flight. “Getting better at switching between powers.” he observed as the ribbons dropped away.

“I'm cheating, got some mini anti gravs in my costume now to keep me up when I switch from my PK to molecular break down.” the Package Deal Psy replied as she swooped around those on the ground drawing their fire and distracting them as Scott recovered.

“Ah, I was wondering what Tower was doing in the lab the last few weeks. Besides causing things to explode or be crushed.” Scott nodded as he began to dance through the air and return fire on the Ponies and their pets.

“Three's here.” Pigeon stated unnecessarily as a big red pickup truck did a Dukes of Hazard style jump over a hill and skidded to a stop throwing up clods of dirt.

“Oi, and we're gonna hear about his driving from the police again aren't we?”

“Yup, very likely. I think we just let them take his license and impound the truck this time.”

“I wish we could, but that would mean one of us would have to carry him, and the last time you did that he groped you remember?”

Pigeon grimaced at the memory. “Are you sure Tower can't 'accidentally'...”

“Meta Two, we'll talk it over later off coms. Focus on the fight.” Scott warned as Meta Three, Brewman, rolled out of his truck and let loose with several concussion blasts. Scott wished the team had enough people that they could put him on the reserve roster as every time he took the field it created an image problem for the team. Brewman's powers where alcohol fueled, and to build up to full powered he had to drink until he was over the legal blood alcohol content level. Which wouldn't be a deal breaker if his power set had included a power that could assist in his travel. So every time Brewman drove to a throw down, he was driving drunk. Thankfully Tower had outfitted his truck with a KITT knock off AI which while not as wise cracking as the iconic car could and would keep those on the road with a less then sober Brewman safe.

Samantha watched as the wizard she had sought out carried a glowing crucible, careful not to slop the precious molten Mithril, from the burner where he had melted the metal to the edge of the working she sat naked at the center of. She felt disgusted with herself, and tried not to look at her exposed flesh with it's acne scars and blotches. Across the blemished canvas that was her body the wizard had painted symbols that made her head hurt if she looked at them to long. Her hair, now a washed out brown instead of the pure white she had adored, hung in her face and angerly she swatted it away,

“Do not break the lines yet.” her hireling scolded in a soft voice, “Else the spell will not transpire correctly and the results will end up... tragic.”

“Just hurry it up, I am paying you good money for this procedure.” Samantha snapped.

A disgruntled, unlady like as her mother would say, snort of disgust escaped her nose. Her parents hadn't even realized she had been gone the whole time she was running with Cobb!! Her family wasn't as rich as the Walcotts, her oblivious parents did make good money and had thrown it at her to keep her quiet. Lack of money was the one thing she'd hated about being with Cobb, as it was a real step down from what she was used to. She'd even contemplated robbing the house more then once dureing her time with the Monsters, but one of the compulsions that had been laid in kept them from seeking out their families. How that little boy-bitch Gwen had managed to blog to her father... Her fist clenched and part of her vowed to seek that upstart out and make her bleed. Then she'd find that shadowy little brat and do the same to her, maybe leaving both their broken bodies where the Crusaders could find them easily...

Black candles flared, seemingly in response to her mood, their smoke adding a metallic taint to the air as the blood infused wax burned. Inter-spaced between the candles where rounded stones with a spell painstakingly chipped into their surfaces just for this ritual.

The wizard pausing for a moment to order his thoughts, clearing the client's grumblings from his mind, to review the summoning he had had chosen for this girl. She bore the remnants of a previous biding, but if she was to be believed they one who had done it was that no-talent scientist! Dr Macabre... this whole thing required study, and he made a mental note to look into the matter. Still the girl had a good Hollow, hardly damaged by having what had been there before removed by force... Another thing to look into. If he could replicate the extraction method...

“All right, I am about to begin. Do as I instructed you, and do not deviate from it no matter what might happen.”

Samantha nodded and the wizard began to chant in a language that seemed to scrape out the inside of her skull as he tipped the crucible, letting the molten silver flow and finish the Seal that she sat at the center of. Samantha had taken a look at a sketched out version of the working and it had resembled a Star of Davide in a circle, and that had surprised her. She'd figured the wizard would have used a five pointed star. The whole thing was set up so two if the points where aligned North and South, and both of them had smaller circles within the arms. These smaller circles touched the center of the star, and the circle she sat within. Were the lines touched the material used was glass with silver mixed in...

Samantha's attention was drawn away from her thoughts as reality seemed to wobble within the small circles and then burst like a... she forced her mind away from pimples and pus, she was doing this so she'd have a perfect flawless body again! She focused on the North facing point and saw that there was now a small wooden box sitting in the center of the circle, and a glance South showed her that there was one there as well.

Samantha gulped, for the first time beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to be trusting a dark wizard who went by the name Devilmaster, who's name she had gotten off a Dark Web Wizards for Hire site. But when she tried to put her hand down across one of the pure silver lines she found a barrier as strong as stone prevented her.

In a part of his mind that was occupied with the Workings the Devilmaster awarded himself a stop at Mac's for a case of his micro brew ale, as the girl had begin rethinking the deal and panicking exactly where he had predicted she would. Still, they where at the point of no return as the lids of his Hollow Boxes (curse his son he was calling them that now himself) sprang open releasing the spirits he had chosen for this girl.

Afterglow let out a growl of frustration as more of her crew where taken out by the natives. >Buck this. No amount of Choc O Bas are worth this. I'm out of here!< ducking low she scrambled in an undignified manner into the shuttle. Once in the cockpit she flipped a few switches. There was a solid Chachunk! as she disconnected the storage modules. She didn't like leaving the active Chamber that had been in the one, but better to leave it behind then her being captured. And the natives wouldn't get anything from the one inside, as it would be dead shortly. The clomp of hooves on metal caused her to glance over her shoulder to see Tiny, the largest male in her crew, dragging his sister Rustic Standard and Common up the ramp.

>Strap them in. Get the rest, but leave the beasts.< Afterglow ordered, hoping the large simple minded male wouldn't realize she had intended to leave them all behind. She could see the fight had turned him on and she promised herself some time to enjoy his services once they where back to the mother ship, seeing he was here now. The brute nodded and hustled back out, trusting that his breed's natural strength and durability would see him through the fire fight. Chimera and Flitter some how managed to make it into the ship, though Chimera was in bad shape with a wing arm cleaved off just below the shoulder. Flitter had something wrapped around the stump, keeping Chimera's silvery blood from draining from her body.

>Hurry up!< Afterglow yelled as Tiny dragged the last of her people aboard, though Three Point looked down right dead. But that had happened before and she'd bounced back some how. >Buckle in, this is gonna be a fast and ugly take off.<

~*~

“Tower to Meta One, Patching Lance Leader into our network.”

“Understood. Lance Lead, Meta one...”

“Designation is Caller, Meta One. I'm the one in the Umpire unit, and will be staying back to act as power relay. What do we have?”

Scott raised an eyebrow at Caller's tone, which was relaxed and didn't show any issue with working with the super team who did have mutants on the roster. Pushing the thoughts away Scott replied. “They seem to be making moves to leave, so I'm inclined to just let them go.”

“What?!? You're gonna let those muties just take off?!” a young man's voice screeched over the coms, and Scott saw a flying Pitcher rig streaking towards the quarry. Scott let out a groan, there was the fly in the ointment he'd been waiting for. The worst part was he was relatively sure that if they took the Ponies captive the consequences would not be good.

“Pitcher, we want to...” The Pitcher cut Scott off as the suit's plasma cannon began spitting great balls of fire. His aim was either very good, or very lucky, as the third shot hit something crittical and the shuttle exploded.

“SON OF A...!!!!” Scott railed as he kicked his flight to full power. Setting his shoulder he slammed into the flying power suit and drove it into the working face of the quarry. Ceramics and steel shattered from the impact. “We wanted them alive, and we wanted them to lead them to their main base numb nuts! Did ANYONE authorize you to open fire? And for the record, we weren't sure if they where mutants or not! We only called you in because we are short handed and thought things would be worse!”

“Meta One... Scott, drop him and come look at this. We need to take custody on this right now before the rest of the lance and the MCO and who knows who else show up.” Pigeon called over the team's secure connection.

With a growl Scott sliced off the plasma cannon, all the other weapons, and the flight pack before dropping the ruined suit into the bed of one of the massive dump trucks that hauled the mined stone to where it was needed.

“What do you have Pigeon... and where did Brew get to?”

“Better you just come and see, I don't wanna say over even our private channel. As for Brew, Jessie convinced him he needed to go before the Knights arrived.”

Scott breathed a silent thanks to Jessie, the AI in Brew's truck, as yet again she proved smart enough to work out the issues the drunken blaster might cause them with the Knights.

Brew had once been a Canadian SWAT office who helped gain control of a rampaging mutant kid in conjunction with a Knight's lance and a few MCO agents. Once it was all said and done, the kid had disappeared, The Knights and MCO denied their involvement in the situation, and Brew was blamed for the kid's disappearance. This had lead to his crucifixion in the media. That had lead to his drinking, and the discovery of his powers.

“All right, I'm coming.” Scott said before switching channels. “Meta One to Caller. Stand down, threat... terminated with extreme prejudice. There will be repercussions over this.”

“That there will be Meta One, that there will be.” Scott shook his head at the tone Caller's voice had taken, a smug 'you'll get the worst of it' tone he'd heard used before.

“Tower, I think our guests are gonna try a double cross, see that the drone cams are leaked to the appropriate places, along with the sound track.” Scott ordered as he touched down near what had been the aft end of the shuttle. Pigeon had a small flash light out ad focused on a metallic cube.

“Roger that Meta One. Leaking now.”

“All right Pidg, what do you ha...” Scott came to a stop as he looked down through a window set into the lid of the box. Through it he could see the head, shoulders, and knees of a naked young woman.

"We told you to leave, faggot!" said Wayne, who was blocking the sidewalk with a large number of his friends and preventing Taka Ono and his fellow Venus Inc. members from passing. "Get out of here!" he shouted, shaking a fist.

Taka stood his ground as a cool breeze carrying the scent of falling leaves flapped through his gi. "Japan government say stay. Say school important."

"Then go to some faggy Japanese school! We don't want you here!"

"Japan government not want in Japan for now. You not Japan government, not important. Move please."

As the tension rose between the two boys, Alvery worried that they might not be able to scare off Wayne's posse this time. She wasn't worried about them hurting Taka, but she'd just spent the last two hours making his hair perfect for his appointment with his prospective agent. If he got into a fight, it would be ruined, and that just would not do. She turned to the rest of Venus Inc. "We need to stall for Security," she hissed.

Melody sniffed. "Don't worry. I've got this." She reached a hand into her purse, withdrew her Musickal Chain, then pulled the stoic Taka away from Wayne. The other boy had been getting so far into Taka's space that- She shook her head; now was not the time for crack-ships. "Taka, remember what we've been practicing? Go!"

Taka nodded, turned to Wayne, and posed with his forearms framing his face from above and below. "I, too sexy for you men. Too sexy for you men. Men not believe meee." Melody started making the music while Wayne's befuddled posse gaped in confusion, not quite sure what was happening. Taka, meanwhile, began to dance and strip out of his top. "I, too sexy for my gi. Too sexy for my gi. Only gets sweeaatyyy."

The discarded half of the gi landed on Wayne's face. With a visible shudder of disgust, he flung it toward Melody, but Alvery caught it before it could interfere with her friend's music. She folded the gi absentmindedly as she watched Melody and Taka's unexpected performance with a silly grin.

Now bare-chested, Taka spread his arms wide. "I, too sexy for my land. Too sexy for my land, Whateley and Japaaan."

"Omigawd, this is too awesome!" cried Cassie. She shifted to become a near copy of Taka, threw her own shirt at the posse, and sidled up to him as a backup dancer. Tina and Meredith joined in as well, but they kept their clothes on despite a few jeers.

Wayne finally shook himself out of his shock. "That's enough, queer! I'm gonna beat your fag ass for mocking me like this!" He took a swing at Taka, but only touched air as Taka dodged nimbly out of the way. Wayne tried again, but Alvery muttered something about him blocking the view and his foot caught on the ground, sending him face-first into the grass next to the sidewalk. At the same time, an invisible force pushed back some of his friends who'd been moving to attack. From the gathering crowd of onlookers, Richard Heath winked at the Venus Inc. dancers.

"I, too sexy for you insult. Too sexy for you insult. No way I fighting with yoouuu! I ronin model, you know what I mean. I do photo shoot in the dojo. Yeah, in the dojo, in the dojo, ne. Do camera kata in the dojo!"

Wayne picked himself up and looked around. His side had outnumbered Taka's at first, but this spectacle was attracting a lot of attention, including from several adults and at least one member of Security. He bit back his anger and spat. "Fuck. I'm not staying to listen to this fag song. C'mon guys. Let's get outta here."

Toward the end of the performance, Taka noticed Hikaru frowning sternly at him from the crowd. He smiled back cockily. "I, too sexy for Hikaru." She raised her eyebrows and leaned back a smidgen. "Too sexy for Hikaru, and she going to leave meee."

Hikaru shook her head and tapped on her wrist before walking away, not a word said.

"I, too sexy for this song." Taka bowed briefly at the applause. "Arigato, Whateley! Appointment time now, very important. Must go with number-one high-speed. Bye bye!"

Early 2009-2010 school year

“Good afternoon ladies a gents, this is Greasy and I am in coming to you over WARs radio and pod cast. My usual co-host, Peepers, has chosen not to be present tonight. Not enough scantly clad ladies he said. Tonight I am coming to you live from the semifinals of the north east regional Parahuman division of the Battlebots global tournament. The top four of this competition will be given a chance to earn a slot in the the championship competition.”

“For those of you not in the know about the Parahuman division; this is the bracket open to those who are mutant Devisors or Gadgeteers, Schimmelhorn Engineers, Princess Jobe, or the the likes of Dr Amazing. Hell this year I think we have a magic based team... Any way, what this means is exotic tech such as force fields and energy weapons can be used in the construction of the bots. Even biologic components or fully organic combatants are also allowed. However there are a few restrictions like adamantium being off limits completely. And as with normal battlebots no projectile weapons, things that can ensnare another bot, or acids. Also the bot can not have an AI or act on it's own in the case of bio constructs or golems. Our guest judges today are EE “Doc” Nalley, Gizmatic and Gunnery Sargent Bardue of the Whateley ranges. And as always we have hazardous materials trained clean up crews on stand by.”

“Our first match is between Wondercute and Team Rube. Wondercute, with the technical genius of Bugs McCormick, is the current reining champion, and they are returning with their bot Fabrege. For those of you unfamiliar with this egg shaped robot; Fab is one of our few flying entries last year, though hovering might be a better term for it as he doesn't rise higher then four inches from the ground. As far as weapons go, we have seen it use pretty much everything that is legal, as it is very much a swiss army bot under that pastel painted armor. And Wondercute has had a summer to work on the bot... Be afraid. Be very afraid.”

“Going up against them is a first timer team called the Rubes. The Rubes creation is called The Cube of Doom. Honestly, it doesn't look like much to me, but then again neither did Fab 1.0 when Bugs and the rest of Wondercute wheeled it out the first time. Still... a giant Rubix cube is not something I was expecting to see. Still I have seen weirder around the school and tunnels.”

The lights of the arena dimmed and Jericho, for once in a nice non-eye hurting suit, stepped into the ring with a microphone and a grin. “A tisket, a tasket, Oh my pretty Easter basket, this egg is about to put you in a casket... in the red corner Fabrege!!!” Bunny and the rest of Wondercute struck poses, bunny ears, head bows, and general hair Things bopping to a beat only they where aware of.

“In the blue corner... This ain't not companion cube, it is just to damn rude, It will be listed on your death certificate as CoD... Cube. Of. Doom!” The gaggle of freshmen wanna be Robo-joxx tried to look fierce, but all they manged to to was look goofy.

“Red team ready.” Fabrege lifted the few inches from the ground with a faint humm. Seams appeared in the shell and smoke was released as the thing 'hatched'. When the smoke cleared Fab's outer shell had become four spider like leg which it rested on, and revealed a smaller egg that had been hidden within. A screen glowed on the surface of the inner egg, revealing a digital Hello Kitty face. All in all it gave the impression of Eve from Wall-E with a few extra limbs and a psychedelic paint job Nodding Bunny slapped the big green button that signaled her readiness.

“Blue team ready.” The Cube shuddered and began to transform. The brightly painted sides chunked, and unlocked to rise into a top heavy Z configuration. The outer bottom rows becoming tank treds as the middle levered the rest of the body up. Parts of the cube's middle and top rows retracted exposing piston pile drivers that where articulated something like a human's shoulder joints. The Rube's driver slipped on an articulated frame and jabbed a few times. The Cube bot's arms mimicked the movements with power and grace. Rube's leader nodded and hit the button.

The air hung heavy with anticipation as the starting lights flashed from red, to yellow, and then to green with a soft air horn to make sure everyone knew of the final color change. The Cube surged forward, it's fists slid back on their pistons primed to scramble the egg bot into the ground. Bugs smirked and nodded too herself as she commanded Fab to hunker down causing it to brace it's hind legs, and bring the metal armor of it's fore legs together to protect the inner egg. Bunny winced as the blows denting the metal.

Bunny glanced over at the Rubes, noting their almost eager grins. She'd seen grins like that on some of the Ultraviolents before they went for an Underdog, or any student they thought they could rough up without to much trouble. Anger bubbled up in her and she glanced over at her teammates.

“Releasing the brood.” she stated.

The rest of the girls nodded and pulled out smaller controllers as four smaller eggs dropped from the rearmost leg armor. They landed on the ground and bobbled in place wide side down for a few seconds before the shell 'cracked' and thin insect like legs unfolded along with several nasty looking tools. They looked like miniature Buzz droids that some tripping hippy had painted. With bounding chaotic moves, reminiscent of Wondercute's sim assaults the minibots swarmed CoD, climbing up it's armor, prying at every seam. And leaving trails of glitter and stickers all over CoD.

“Get those blasted things off.” the Rube's leader ordered as the driver twisted and turned trying to swat the agile little monsters, but the Cube's arm design was to stiff to do so easily. So focused on fighting off the minibots Team rube was unaware of Fab lifting up a few inches. As the whole thing began to spin like a top, the legs locking into place in such a way the whole thing looked like a cross between a top and a throwing star . Surging forward the leg blades struck sparks as Fab tried to find purchase on one of the spots the minibots where picking at.

“Well, in true Wondercute fashion, they have pulled a surprise out of their hats.” Greasy breathed as the spinning Fab kept hammering on Cube of Doom. “Set up as it is Fab is a larger version of two of Generator's signature Devises; Spinner and Kitty Compact... WOO!!! did not expect to see flames shooting out of Cube of Doom! It seems that the Rubes have their flames focused more then most competitors do, giving them more a blow torch rather then a dragon's belch of fire. I think the Rubes are regretting not giving their bot a way to grapple with an opponent... Ouch!! Fab just got a lucky hit and off comes an arm!! Fab also lost a limb with that hit and most of her minibots have now been crushed under tred. And... Fab just unleashed a cloud of glitter. Not sure what that is gonna do as time runs out on this match. I do believe that unless someone gets in a deciding hit in the next 40 seconds we will have to go to the judges. Wait... something is going on with Fab...”

In the arena the egg shaped bot was folding it's leg blades close to its body, making the whole contraption look like an egg beater before it toppled over to float horizontal to the ground. Bunny was grinning as the whole thing began to spin on it's long axis.

“Well, from horizontal spinner to drum spinner, Fab is a versatility bot.” Greasy observed as the egg shaped bot seemed to bounce and delivered a hard hit under Cube's 'chin' knocking the solid bot back and into one of the arena hazards which ripped one of it's treads to shreds. “OH!!! Cube of Doom is having mobility issues!! And here comes Fab again with another uppercut!”

The arena buzzer sounded and the teams shut the mechanical gladiators down, the Rubes wincing at the fluids draining from their bot's severed limb. Wonder cute followed Bunny into the arena and began to pack up Fab which was standing drunkenly on it's three remaining limbs.

“Damn, I though those would hold up better.” Bunny muttered as she looked over the articulated struts that gave Fab it's spider like look. “Might have to remove the armor on the inner egg to use the metal to strengthen them for the next round...”

Greasy drifted over to the judges table waiting for the ruling. The three nodded and Gunny scribbled their decision onto a small card which he handed to Greasy. “The verdict is in, and the winner by a two to one vote is... Wondercute!!”

Agent Tony Donner sighed as he leaned back in the metal folding chair he'd been given, and looked around the office he was using. He was doing his best to keep from scaring the kids who came to him, but way to many of them had had experiences with the assholes who gave the MCO a bad name. He was a Shepard, and he tried to live up to that title, though more and more he was finding that hard to do. He considered swinging into the office when he was done and seeing if they'd be willing to let him pick up a job application, or maybe could point him to one of their trusties that might be willing to hire him on...

The door opened with a beseeching demand for oiling as it had the last seven time it had been opened. Sitting up Winters straightened his tie and consulted his notes. A glance down at the listed powers showed she was of very low level Exemplar, and while she did have either some psychic abilities or warping abilities, they where low powered and erratic. Still, probability manipulation, or even a smidgen of precog were useful talents.

“Miss Webb, please have a seat. I am Agent Donner, and...” he started to say, only to come to a stuttering halt as the girl's tanned complexion paled and she began to wheeze. “Shit! I need some help in here! Medical emergency!” he yelled as he lurched over the table to try and catch Miss Webb as she crumpled to the floor. Scattering the instruments he'd brought with him, wincing as some of them hit the floor and broke, Tony landed next to the girl, who he could see swelling up as hives formed on her skin. That suggested an allergic reaction to him and he flicked his hand out, Pulling an eppi pen from the first aid kit he kept next to the Brick Buster shot gun in the trunk of his car.

As he plunged the needle into the girl's flesh the door was thrown open and a squad of Whateley security leveled their weapons at his head. “Drop the needle, and step away from the girl!” the squad leader barked. “What did you do to her?”

“I just gave her epinephrine! She came in and had an allergic reaction.” Tony snapped as he Pulled the firing pins from the weapons aimed at him, and dumped them into the trash can. “I am my squad's medic. Get a doctor here now or we will loose her!” At the sound of metal on metal one of the guards pulled the trigger with a disappointing click.

The man blinked and tried again just as a woman with Medusa (the comic character, not the mythological monster) like hair swept in and knelt next to the girl, strands of hair checking pulse and breathing while the woman pulled a few things from a black bag. “Who was in here before she was?” Tenent asked. “There are only a few things this girl is allergic to...”

“Um... Horned Hunter, SwartzElf, and... a cat girl who was trying to get the tag Miss Kitty changed to...”

“Oh blast, I was afraid of that. Miss Webb is allergic to cat girls. Ok boys, get her on the stretcher, and I'll take it from here. Mr...”

“Agent Donner, ma'am.”

“It's Dr, Agent. And you did good. We don't get many check in agents who would have tried to save her.”

Tony shrugged. “Dr, I'm not regular MCO. I'm a Shepard.”

Note: this originated from a tangent in the "Combat in armor" thread, I felt it was worth a micro scene

Jade's Star Wars celebration:
May 4th 2008

Poe Cottage
Hundreds of pink child-sized fur costumes came to life, all of them wearing at least one piece of Hello Kitty apparel.

Later in the workshops
"No, that's not possible"
"For the love of the Force WHYY"

Jinn appeared to be occupying a Pink Vader outfit. "You shale know the power of the PINK side of the force"


(feel free to add more)

2017 Feb 6
Twain common room

"... anyway, we'll have to wait for another, I dunno, half hour or so before I can give you the Homer Gallery tour, and it's too early to break for lunch, so I recommend going through the school handbook. No point in squidding 'n kidding about just because you didn't know about some silly sh... stuff."

Mike could see Bill was confused, so he added, "Sorry, it's some new slang that caught on last term, I guess it's from that video game or something. 'Squidding' is breaking a rule you didn't know, and 'kidding' is sort of just fu.. messing around even though you ought to know better."

OOC: More Icy-Samantha fun!

~*~



“What is that?” Samantha hissed as she stared at the spirit that had emerged from the North point box.

Devilmaster spared the spirit a short glance, taking in the hovering form. It hung in the air like an exquisitely carved ice sculpture of a nude woman, though there was nothing gentle or soft about her in spite of her ice blue curves. Her fingers and toes ended in cruel looking claws, and the smile the spirit flashed Samantha was all predatory teeth. Like a trail of pixie dust ice flakes drifted down from the spirit, and as they touched the stone floor it frosted over. Even from without the circle he could feel the chill of the spirit leeching his life force from him. “That is a spirit of winter death. You said you wanted your ice powers back, and while I could have found you something... gentler...”

“No, this is what I wanted.” Samantha replied eagerly as she and the spirit eyed each other.

“You may want to turn to see the other spirit I have for you.” Devilmaster stated, amused as the winter death spirit tried to pounce on Samantha as soon as her back was turned. He mentally lowered the girl's chances of survival in his head, thanking what ever dark deity he believed in that he had gotten the girl's money in advance of the ritual. “it is a lesser devil, often referred to as an imp by the initiated. It will restore, refill, and reignite your Well.”

Samantha nodded as she took in the human like creature that hunkered down watching her with very intelligent eyes. Unlike the death spirit the imp was gender less, and really didn't match Samantha's idea of a demonic creature as it had no horns or tail, and it was more a gray-tan then the red she had expected.

“This is your last...”

“Do it. Do it now!” Samantha ordered.

Devilmaster inclined his head to her. “Very well then.” he replied before he picked up his chant again. Samantha felt the spell working it's way into her body, and it reminded her of the first time Dr. Cobb had put her into his machine. Her jaw clenched against the feeling of her body being changed, of something being stretched and prepared. In a way it kind of reminded her of the first time she had ever had sex... Samantha's musing was cut off as the Devilmaster signaled for her to do her part of the ritual. With out hesitation Samantha slammed her palms down on the glass portion of the working's lines. Her flesh was pierced, her blood offered as the glass shattered.

Both spirits pounced, and Samantha screamed as the magic in the circle flared.

The Devilmaster blinked the spots from his eyes and shivered as he forced himself to his feet. He looked over the working, noting that the lines where all still intact and had managed to contain most of the energy used to force the spirits into the girl. Where the girl had sat now stood a pillar of ice that stretched from floor to ceiling. He could just barely make out a form encased within the pillar, and he shook his head. “Well, that's it then. I suppose I should clean up what I can and call the Syndicate to get a disposal team over here to deal with the body.”

Just as he was reaching for his phone it began to ring, playing the tune he had programmed in for his daughter. “Lindsey? Hey, slow down, what's wrong?” he asked, the hardened black magic wizard falling away to reveal the loving father within. “Ok, take a deep breath...”

A crack like a cannon going off drowned out what ever Lindsey was trying to tell him, and as he spun around the phone dropped from his hand.

“Daddy? Daddy, what's wrong?”

“Gonna fricken beat their ass for disrupting...” Kara grumbled to herself as she worked her way along the cat walks over looking the Holbrook dance floor. She, the rest of the ICCs, and a few Irregulars from the student body and staff had been assisting campus security with a suspected plot to disrupt the Halloween dance for the last week, and in classic Spy Movie fashion it was at the last minute that they had found the final few pieces of the puzzle. Normally Security wouldn't have been worried about a few pranks on Mischief night, but this time it looked like this wasn't a student plot, but a plot by a H1 or some other group to do harm to the student body. Which honestly surprised Kara that anyone would try anything after the 06 Assassination attempt on Sara Waite dust had settled. Way she'd heard it, some of the students with Syndicate connections had tracked down some of the Sabertooths (Saberteeth?) and did Things to them that left very little to bury. And the villain Deathlist was still MIA all these years later.

Her com com chirped and Mischief's voice came through. “Bamph here, Magnificent and I are still in pursuit of the targets. She's... she's riding on top of their car and I'm following her tracker. She's enjoying this to much.”

“Am not grasshopper.” Imp's voice whispered back. “I'm pissed off.”

“Whatever. Just find the blue prints they used for their WMD, I have it in sight.” Kara hissed back.

“You need a hand?” HIVE asked.

“Ehhhh.... yes, actually. This does not look like what we where expecting.” Kara replied as she played a small maglight over the device. “I'm not seeing any time... no there is a timer. It's a bloody candel.”

“A candle? Well put it out.”

Kara licked her fingers and tried pinching out the flame, but it stubbornly remained lit no matter what she did. “Ok, I haven't tried peeing on it, but nothing I'm doing is putting this thing out.” she stated wrinkling her nose. “I'm seeing... HIVE, I'm sending you visuals. I think this thing is some kind of alchemy construct or some other magical object. Not what we where looking for.”

“Ok, yeah I see that. I'm sending Circe up to help you.”

“Tell her to hurry, the candle is...” the candle must have hit the magic point as there was a soft pop and the device began to spew forth a ghastly pink mist. Kara watched in horror as her costume, Supergirl, began to dissolve. Below her she could see the pink mist having the same effect on the rest of the student body.

2007-02-19, 21:45
Whitman Cottage
Miyet noticed just how distracted she was feeling, and with a sigh, went to pull up the calendar on her laptop.

Now kitten, Bast rebuked her, you hardly need check the date to learn what your body is already telling you.

She was right, damn it. Miyet sighed again, then went to check the pill bottle in her desk drawer. Crap, she was out of her hormone suppressants, and it was too late to go to Doyle to get more. Well, at least she had the birth-control implant, in case she had another incident like the one last October; she shuddered at the memory of that.

Just then, the door opened, and Galaxy walked in, a scowl on her face. "Goddamn Benny!", she snarled, as she threw her purse on her desk.

"What happened?" Miyet asked, curious as to what her roomate's not-boyfriend, Flux, did to piss her off so much.

"Fey."

Miyet understood immediately, or thought she did. Chances are, they were both staring at the gorgeous elf, when one of them decided to get jealous of the other one, despite the fact that their relationship was anything but exclusive.

It was this last fact that now played front and center in Miyet's mind.

Alisha seemed to be thinking the same thing. After wiggling out of her skirt, she turned to Miyet and said, "I bet you could use a hand getting your mind off things, too," she purred, "Or maybe some other body part?" It wasn't hard to see what she meant - or rather, it obviously was hard; one of the first things Miyet learned was that Alisha was not only pansexual, but intersexed as well, with a clitoris significantly larger than some guys' penises. Miyet found herself purring back.

You really ought to find out who made the room arrangements and thank them, snarked Bast.

Welcome back to the "Dumbing of Whateley" AU. Feel free to add anything you'd like to it.

Having reunited in the lobby, Sal and Marcie stepped outside the Dunwich railroad station, trying to get one last smoke in before the bus arrived. Unfortunately, someone else was already there, though it looked like she was doing the same, so they didn't figure it would be a problem.

"Man, this is bullshit. The only good thing about this is gettin' away from the nuns."

<Don't think much of being a mutant?>, Marcie signed back to her old friend. She seemed to be paying attention to the other girl, but she was still listening.

"Nah, Ah don't care much about it either way, really. It's more that's it's just one more thing to deal with. It ain't like life hasn't dumped on me enough already."

<Never thought you were the self-pitying type.>

"Oh, that's a load of crap. Anyway, you can bet these assholes are gonna be just as strict as the penguins were. Mebbe worse."

<No way. This place is supposed to be really cool.>

"I don't buy it, not with some fancy-ass place like this." She then added with a sigh, "Listen, if yer gonna be this distracted, we might as well go introduce ourselves, OK?"

<YES!>

A mother and daughter stood outside the wrought iron gates of Whateley academy, enjoying the New Hampshire autumn colors, though the girl's eyes where glued to the gargoyles that flanked the portal, as if expecting them to pounce as soon as her eyes left them. Her mother smiled indulgently as she stroked the girl's dark curls. “Come one Kara, we can't stay out here, I need to go talk to some very important people.”

The girl let out a much put upon sigh, one that should have come from someone much older then her eight years, as she tore her gaze from the blank faced statues to look up at her mother's face. “You've been talking to to many important people this trip. I thought this was just gonna be for you and me.” she pouted, but did start walking forward.

“You know I told you I had to do a few things first before this could be wholly a mother daughter trip.” Samantha James said with an echoing sigh, knowing her daughter had a point. She had planned only two side trips for this trip, but unexpected developments in China had diverted them to Washington. While Kara had gotten to see the sights for the two days that Samantha's contact within the CIA had seen fit to waste, it had not been with her mother. After she'd finally managed to re-ashore Frisk that yes her people where competent that they could do their job without her micromanaging them, the next stop on the trip had been New York City.

Needless to say Shane Wilkins was not happy that they hadn't made their appointment, and as a result the shy chinned tech head had been a bit of a dick while her demonstrated some of his new stock for them. Kara wasn't sure if some of the stuff her mother had bought was just to get the rodent like man just to get out of his snit or if her mother's mercenary organization really needed enough of the new Sparksuits to outfit all four of their field teams before they tested the suits for themselves. Still the girl thought happily, she had managed to weasel a few more birthday gifts out of the stopover, one of which she was fingering in her pocket at that moment.

“Excuse me Ma'am, Whateley Security, could I see some ID and get your reason for being here?” a man dressed far to much like one of her field agents asked Samantha as he stepping out of a small, but sturdily built security booth. A second look at the structure had Samantha revising it from 'booth' to 'bunker'. She shook her head thinking about how times had chanced since she'd attended the boarding school, back when dinosaurs ruled the world as Kara liked to tease.

“Certainly, Samantha and Kara James, here for a meeting with the Headmistress and the board about donating to the school.” Samantha replied handing over both her and Kara's Ids which the guard quickly scanned into the system while he contacted someone over his walkie-talkie. “Thank you ma'am. Someone will be here in a moment to give you a ride up to Shuster, though... we where not expecting your daughter...”

“I know, sorry about that. It was a bit of a last minute decision on my part.” Samantha replied as she played with Kara's hair again, earning an annoyed look for the girl. The guard nodded as a souped up golf cart zipped up and young looking woman in a security uniform motioned for them to get in.

On the way to Shuster Kara leaned forward and tugged on the security officer's sleeve. “Why are there men in fatigues hiding over there?” she asked indicating a well maintained thicket of trees and bushes. The girl's question caused their driver to slam on the brakes, with a curse word spat out without thinking.

The Officer stepped out of the cart and leveled her sidearm at the thicket. “Ok, come out of there this instant with your hands up or I will shoot. While I am not authorized for lethal force, I am authorized to carry experimental ammo, and right now I am testing Tangle-tasers. Not only will you be wrapped up in a tangle web shot, it will shock your ass if you struggle against it. You know the rules about recruitment, don't make me pull your agency from the List...”

“I'm coming out, don't shoot.” the man replied as he eased himself from the ground. At his voice their guide let out a groan and lowered her weapon.

“Dwayne, damn it. You're here to ask me on another date.”

“Of course I am Kate, after the fun we had last time.” the man replied as he relaxed and touched two fingers together and cause the face paint he was wearing to fade away.

“You have my number. Use it like a normal guy. Now, git, before I decide to take you in.”

“Ooo, kinky. I'd enjoy you cuffing me to your head...” Dwayne started to say until he realized Kara was sitting watching him, and Samantha's less then amused Mom Look. “Um, right, sorry. Going now. How about drinks Friday?”

“Call me and maybe I'll say yes.” Kate replied as she rubbed her temple and got back into the golf cart. “Sorry about that. He's a security consultant, working on finding our weak spots...”

“I see. Well, pass this on to the chief, my company is qualified, and cleared to operate in this area if you have need.” Samantha stated as she pulled out one of her business cards and handed it to Officer Kate.

“I will ma'am. Dwayne's harmless enough, but he's a little the way he is when he gets an idea in his head. Well here we are.”

Samantha smiled warmly at Officer Kate. “Thank you, for the ride, it was very helpful. Kara, give the nice lady back her hold out pistol.” Officer Kate jerked at Samantha's words, her hand dropping to the small of her back, locating the empty holster where the small hold out Kara was looking over had been stored. Samantha grimaced as Kara reluctantly, but properly, handed the weapon over. “Sorry, this is what happens when she spends to much time with Uncle Moody; she picks up his bad habits. Now is that everything?” Kara let out a huff as she pulled out the gate guard's wallet and phone from out of her shirt, which caused Samantha to face palm. “Could you return these?”

“Sure ma'am...”

~*~

Kara sat in an office chair fidgeting and earning dirty looks from a stern looking woman who's name plate labeled her as Assistant headmistress A. Hartford as the woman tapped away at her computer keyboards. Kara had already beaten most of the games on her tablet, and she wasn't in the mood to read or watch any of the books and movies loaded on it so the minutes since her mother had gone into the board room for the meeting where dragging by. She'd tried to meditate like Aunt Mac had instructed her, but some how boredom was derailing it. Opening her eyes she let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair, planning on counting ceiling tiles until her mother got out of the meeting. Shifting a bit, she felt one of her new toys in her pocket, and with a grin she pulled it out, slipping it onto her arm. After the device was firmly attached, skin to plastic so she could hide it under her sleeve, Kara caressed the on button causing the device let out a soft chime reminiscent of the Microsoft start up sequence, but not.

The start up jingle caused Amelia's head to snap up from her work in time to see a holographic keyboard appear over the kid's arm and hand.

Tanya watched in shock as Shisa, the cat like mutant girl, tore down the hall of Whitman, actually running along the wall for several meters to avoid a group of girls. A small rubber ball with a bell inside, jingled madly as she slapped it again, aiming for the stairs. With a yowl that almost sounded like a laugh she jumped after it, leaving a long line of claw marks behind her.

“What happened to her?” Tanya asked.

“Someone left a cat toy full of catnip outside her door,” Toison answered.

There were screams from the sophomore floor, followed by the sound of running feet.

“Now I know what to get her for Christmas,” Tanya said, as the ball bounced back downstairs.

Dr. Choudhari frowned as she looked around the classroom, finding that everyone's eyes were on a single freshman: the girls with rapt attention, the more numerous boys (mostly) with envy and anger. The boy himself seemed oblivious to them, save for the one girl next to him at the work table, whom he was amiably chatting up.

I warned him about this earlier, she thought. She'd met with him as his student advisor the day before, and noticed the potential problem right away.

She strode up to them, and after rapping her knuckles on the table to get his attention, she said, "Mr. Rosenthal, if you can't control your glamour better, you will spend the rest of the class in the Security office until you learn to."

"Glamour?" the girl next to him said with a squeak. At that, her and the other girls started glaring at Joe, while most of the boys now smirked at the Exemplar's embarrassment.

After giving them a moment to calm down, Mrs. Metal walked to the whiteboard, saying, "Now that that is settled, welcome to Introduction to Fabrication Techniques..."

Robert Turner leaned back in his office chair and looked around the mess of storage boxes he was working on sorting through, and the papers, manuals, and books that came with his new job as Assistant Headmaster of Whateley. Stifling a yawn, he swore as soon as he finished with the box of photos he would head home and get some sleep. In pride of place on his desk he placed the picture of Lilly's graduation, of him and Tabby hugging their daughter. On the opposite corner went a candid shot of the Star League and their kids taken a few years before they'd shipped the lot to the super school. A few other pictures came out of the box and were placed to space out the books on his shelves. Thinking he'd put them all up Robert started to cut the tape holding the bottom of the box together so he could flatten the thing, when a newspaper wrapped rectangle thumped onto the desk top. Raising an eyebrow Robert tore open the paper and sat starring at the photo in the frame.

It was him, his mentor, and his mentor's partner, a crime fighting team Lilly had never met due to their deaths in the line of duty. Radley Crown's grin was huge, a heavy hand resting on the young Robert's cape covered shoulder as Robert knelt an arm around the massive gray furred Great Dane. Radley had been a baseline, but that hadn't stopped him from fighting the good fight, and it was from him Robert had inherited the Falcon mantle. As for Reggie... well that dog had been something else. Radley had saved Reggie from some lab and the Great Dane had glued himself to Radley's side. Poor Reggie had been used cruelly as a test bed for various cybernetic enhancements, some of which some how managed to give him near human intelligence and speech. And even with all the cruelty Reggie's basic cheerful nature was never broken.

Smiling slightly Robert reached for the inter school phone book and looked up a number. “Hi, Mrs. Lindford, Robert Turner... No, everything's fine. I was just wondering how I could add a few things to the Gallery. Huh, that easy? All right. I'm gonna have Lilly stop in at the house and over night the items. You'll need to do up two new wax figure... I have pictures, they'll be in the packet. I want them put up along with the costumes. All right, thank you.”

Hanging up Robert reread the note scrawled in the corner of the picture “From one Falcon to another, may you fly high. Blue Falcon and the Dog Wonder.”

“Stan, Morris... do we have any more durable toilets for Hawthorn? No, no, those where... holed. Yeah, I said holed. He can pee through titanium. No, it's not corrosive, the stream is like a high powered water cutter. You what? Adamantium toilets? How much did... holy fuck...”

inspired by: dogbertcarrlle's Copycat story on TtHM
warning crude humor, read where you won't disturb others

Saturday, September 15, 2007 – Afternoon
Emerson cottage, Whateley Academy

The boy was lying in his bed, his head nested in his pillow. Two weeks, it had only been two since his arrival at Whateley and yet it was already hell for him. He should have said no, he could have said no but he didn't want to disappoint his father and Mr. Walter. His father had been proud when he had manifested into a 6 foot 5 bald giant, weighing around 250lb of muscle … when he was 13. Thankfully he hadn't grow much during the last year. Still, in his mind he felt like a freak. The tests were clear, he was an exemplar. But not the beautiful kind, no, he looked more like the caricature of a leg-breaker than of an esthete. He looked intimidating, really intimidating. It didn't help that he had been on edge for a little more than a month, and it didn't take an empath to see it. He hadn't been able to get some "personal time" for some time now. He knew that it would be difficult to deal with it at whateley but at the same time he thought that maybe it was the occasion for him to put all of this behind, to be a little more normal. He had only lured himself.

Blake, for it was his name, hadn't been able to make friends here. Well, the only people who had tried to associate with him were people he didn't want to be associated with. He already looked like a thug, he didn't want to reinforce that image by hanging out with people who were pretty much thugs in his opinion. His roommate, Nathan, was somewhat friendly but still he was wary of him. He was not mean but didn't really invite Blake to lunch with him at his table with his real friends.

Anyway, even if Blake had wanted to be friends with Nathan, there was a "tiny" problem with him. He was a gadgeteer. Why the hell did they have to put him with a gadgeteer? Didn't they know it would only make things worse? Well … of course they didn't. It's not like he could talk about it with anyone. At least, one of the good thing about Nathan was that he wasn't around the room most of the time. So Blake had time to think, alone, in his bed.

Currently, he was trying to avoid his mental struggles. He didn't make a good job at it because he thought about his life back home. His father who had to raise him alone, Mr. Walter who was sort a second father like figure, all his father's "students" who were pretty much training to be futur henchmen for some low-grade supervillain. Of course they didn't say it out loud but he had figured it pretty early in his life. Contrary to what people could think of him seeing him now, he was far from dumb. After all, for most of his life he had been a small child without much brawn and thus he had to rely on his wit to anticipate trouble and avoid it. He had always wondered whether or not his father had regrets about the way he had lived his life, he was not really a supervillain for hire anymore now that he had been put in a wheelchair after what must have been an epic fight with some superheroes. His father didn't really want to talk about it. At least he had been able to retire without much problem, using his connections to settle in a new job.

His mother on the other hand, he had pretty much never met her, or rather he had no recollection of her. Still, he was smart and able to put two and two together. Mr. Walter was still an active super villain, that much was obvious and he didn't really want to hide it or if he wanted to he was really bad at it in Blake's presence. So one night he had heard his father and Mr. walter talk about his last major asswhooping at the hand of "The Elite", the local super heroes group. And with the way they were talking about one particular member, it didn't take a genius to understand that the three of them had a relationship. It became one of Blake's obsessions, he had no real proof but for him it was clear : he was the son of Dr Bombardier. How cool was that?! He began the creation of his scrapbook, compilling every article he could find about the woman he was sure was his mother. He was proud of his mother. Of course she had left him and his dad but in his mind it must have been because she wanted to focus on saving the world and that sort of thing. So he could easily forgive her, after all, did he really matter if you put the fate of the world in the balance? And one day he would go and see her, maybe he could train with her and become a super hero too? He didn't dislike his father, but he didn't really want to follow in his footsteps and he hadn't really pressured him into anything even if he had been pretty insistent about him coming to whateley because he and Mr. Walter had studied here too. Mr. Walter had even given him a letter of recommendation to join a clique called "the Bad Seeds" but he was not really sure about them. Maybe they could be friends but he didn't really see himself bounding with them that much.

He definitely couldn't find peace thinking about this, but it was better than thinking about … that. To make matters worse, Nathan had left one of his failed projects lying on his table. It looked like headphones and was supposed to be some kind of relaxation gadget. It didn't really work right now, but Nathan was not that interested in it because he had began to work on it before joining Whateley and now he could build far more interesting gadgets than something that would have the same effect as someone listening to whale songs.

Why his roommate had to be a freaking Gadgeteer? Even if he hadn't been one it would have been already hard to resist the urge, but with spare parts lying around, it was pretty much impossible to not succumb to the tentation. He tried to ignore it, he really tried. But after several glance at it, he couldn't resist it any longer. He had to leave his bed, sit in the chair and work on it. Of course latter he would regret it, he would be ashamed of it. But in the meantime he could relax and enjoy it. Everytime it was the same, it was like the world had been tuned out. Nothing really mattered except him and his project. He couldn't understand why Nathan hadn't been able to finish it or even why he had settle on a relaxation system using simple sound to put the wearer into a semi-hypnotic trance? Even with only the spare parts at his disposal, the headphones could do so much more. Of course Blake achieved the main goal of the appliance, but he also tweaked it to allow the wearer to store his thoughts into a tape.

He was finishing the last touch when he heard someone behind say "You will have to explain to me what it does because i have really no idea. If it works, it doesn't really make sense to me, so it has to be more of a devise than a gadget ". It startled him, sweat ran down his spine. He had been caught and it was not really a good thing. He turned toward the one who talked to him, but it was obviously Nathan. He hadn't seen the time passes, he had spent several hours working on the headphones. He hoped he could talk himself out of this predicament.

Blake really showed off his social interactions skills by answering a mere "hu, hello?", he gulped and tried to gather his thoughts "I am sorry, i know i shouldn't have touched your stuff but i thought i could make it work and … i am really sorry … ". Blake blushed and lowered his eyes. "Don't be, i don't really care that much about it. I am really just interested in knowning what you have done with it and whether or not it is working now." said Nathan. But he also added  "I would also like to know what you are doing in my room? Not that i really mind a pretty girl like you coming here but people might talk if they see you leaving out of it late in the evening, you know?".

Sunny let out a whistle as she hovered over the 'deserted' warehouse that every hero group knew was really one of those time share lairs, looking over the destruction that had been called in. Touching her ear she said softly. “Hey Big Dawg, what's Chiller been up to for the last twenty four?”

She could hear the bewildered look on Beauregard's face as he accessed the computers at their base, likely stunned by how serious she sounded. “Home, work, PR thing, here... was never even close to where you are. Why, what are you seeing?”

“Ice. Lots of ice.” there was a pause and a soft curse. “And the MCO are arriving with the police and rescue squad. Keep Chiller out of sight, or better yet in sight so they can't snatch him up on us. And see what other ice throwers are in town at the moment.”

“Understood. I have a few things I can rope him into helping with.”

“All right Bee-Dee, I'll keep an eye on things here for a bit then see what doesn't get trampled. See if Swash is available and can swing through here or maybe the PD or MCO office to see what they find.” Sunny replied as she watched the responders break out sledge hammers, chisels and a few higher tech methods of dealing with the ice.

~*~

Mister Cool, aka Brian Chupp, looked around like the tourist he was, grinning as he soaked in the California sun. Sure he was an ice villain, but he wasn't like Mr Freeze (Even he had cribbed some of Freeze's aesthetics for his Mark III suit) and needed the cold to live. No he was more Captain Cold and some times he just needed to thaw out and relax for a change. While he and Amber couldn't afford, Yet!, one of those Karedonian time share vacations, they could afford a few days on the west coast in a decent hotel in LA. Ok so if he didn't have a few decent jobs when he got back he'd be eating Raman noodles for the next few months... But the huge smile and barely contained by her bikini top breasts Amber was pressing against his arm was well worth it, even leaving out the sex. Which was freaking amazing! In the first place, but got super hot after a job.

“Whacha thinken, pudden?” Amber purred as she twined her fingers with his, knowing full well what he was thinking about with just a look at the front of Brian's pants.

“Just that we needed this.” he confessed as he spun her around and kissed her soundly on the lips.

“Ah... Doctor, there seems to be something wrong with the latest back of Horse based bodies.” Dr. Martin "Dr. DNA" Aschner hear over the intercom prompting a sigh from the aging bio-devisor. Forcing himself up from his desk Martin palmed an inject able and pressed it to his wrist. As the liquid hit his bloodstream he felt about ten years younger and there was a renewed vigor to his step as he made his way to the medical wing of his compound.

“All right Anastasia, what seems to be the issue?” he asked his assistant, an attractive Fennic Fox woman, who he hoped would be able to carry on his legacy when his time on Earth was over.

“The latest batch is well below previous batches benchmarks regarding size.” Anna replied bringing up the information on a tablet and showing it to her mentor. She also triggered a command that caused the maturation pods glass fronts to go from heavily tinted to clear, showing the floating naked forms of the developing Ani-men.

“No, no issues here my dear. This batch was a special request.” Martin replied as he looked over the data. “Well actually a little issue, they are larger then I had anticipated...”

“Sir?”

“The miniature horse was the base genome used for this batch. The volunteers had various forms of dwarfism in their first life, and a few weren't comfortable with the thought of being over 7 feet tall. So, these should work out to be about average unmodified human height.”

“Ah, I see sir.”

Thursday, February 8, 2007 – Afternoon

"Don't fear, citizens! The Elite are here to protect you from this monstrosity" the declaration was kinda dorky in Blake's opinion, but Blake didn't expect much from "The Mighty Paladin". He was clearly the leader of the group, or at least acted as such, but Blake was relieved that the so called "Paladin" was not also the group's PR representative. At least this time he hadn't used his catchphrase "Beware Evildoers, renounce your life of crime or fear the might of The Mighty Paladin". Had it ever worked ? It boggled Blake's mind that after so many years of crimefighting, TMP still couldn't grow out of this caricature of superhero. Mr. Walter had even begun a mug collection, each one with a different TMP "famous quote". Some of them were hilarious, despite TMP's intentions.

Anyway, Blake was not watching this video because of him. She was currently in her bedroom, in her brunette form, dressed in an oversize t-shirt. Well, most of her clothes were too large for her presently. This was one of the problem caused by the height difference between her giant male body and her quite small feminine one. Still, it was not uncomfortable. She had not yet been able to gather her courage and go outside to buy clothes that would fit her better. Heck, she had not even been able to leave her room in this body. She had decided that she would only take this form to relax in the privacy of her own bedroom, while her father was out of the home and with her door locked, just in case. If no one knew about it, then it couldn't hurt anyone, could it ?

She could have stayed a boy today, her transformation had not been triggered by "the urge" as she called it. However she felt that it was more appropriate for what she was doing. Blake was thankful that her breasts were rather small or things could have been awkward. She was lying on her stomach, her arms crossed to support her head, her laptop in front of her. It was one of her weekly rituals, she had to watch every video she could find about "The Elite". After all she was one their greatest fan, she even had a pin to prove it. She had been part of their fanclub for a few years now, taking part in online discussions about them, making wild speculations all the time about their daily lives and also the true nature of their powers.

Her friends knew about her interest for this supergroup, some of them shared her passion. But even those couldn't understand why she was so focused on "Dr Bombardier". After all, she didn't talk much, she was often behind the others during the fights and on top of that her power armor concealed pretty much every part of her body. If the rumors were to be believed, Dr Bombardier could in fact be a man. But Blake knew better. She knew that inside the armor was hidden the most formidable woman in the world, her mother. Well, at least she had a strong conviction that it was the case.

That's why she was so invested in the video right now, cheering on her mother. The fight was not that recent, she had already watched it on the news when it had happened but it was still one of her favorite fight, in her unbiased opinion. She already knew the outcome, but everytime she startled when the beast jumped on her mother, its fangs almost piercing her armor. The monster had to settle for gnawing the right arm that had interrupted its charge. Sparks were flying out of the incisions but the flesh hadn't been bitten. She wondered what Dr Bombardier could feel in those moments and what pushed her to face danger so often. Blake would never have been able to fight this creature. She would have fled at the first opportunity, even in her exemplar male body. Or maybe she would have been too frightened to even move ? She didn't know and she didn't really want to find out. Her idea of having a good time didn't encompass a fight with a giant sabretooth-like creature. Especially if said creature could spit fire out of its mouth.

But she had nothing to fear, her mother's armor could withstand the monster's bite. With her left arm she grabbed the assailant by its throat, squeezing it hard in the process, then threw it out of the fray. It fell on its back, hard, but it didn't seem to have taken much damages. It stood up, clearly enraged by the prey who had denied it its meal. Maybe if it had been able to charge again at Dr Bombardier it would have been successful. But She was not someone who could be taken by suprise twice. She had already grabbed her signature weapon from behind her back, and locked it on her target.

At this point, Blake almost shouted "Thundergun !". Almost, after all she couldn't do it every single time she replayed the video. It was a shame the video couldn't capture the insentity of the shot. Even those who didn't like Dr Bombardier had to admit that she could build awesome weapons, and the Thundergun was no exception. The weapon seemed bigger than Blake herself, without being an exemplar or wearing a power armor it would be pretty much impossible to transport it without mounting it on a vehicle. The creature imploded almost instantly. No projectile had been fired, no energy had been projected. On the forum they were saying that the Thundergun disrupted directly its target's molecules, and it only affected the intended target. The science didn't make much sense, but everyone said that it was a devise so it didn't have to. It was called the thundergun because of the particular sound it emitted, similar to a thunder strike.

She skipped the after fight commentary added at the end of the battle. The one who had edited the video believed in the popular theory that the creature that had terrorized the city was in fact a creation of "The Masked Degenerate". Blake already knew it was load of ... gibberish. After it had happened she had asked Mr. Walter if he had been involved and he had said no. And he tended to be brutally honest about such things, he had even added that he was above such display of incompetence. Even as a distraction he would have sent a creature with maybe less raw power but more durability. What was the point of a distraction if the fight was over in mere minutes after the arrival of the intended targets ? Or else you had to swarm them with a lot of those. His bet was on a failed test run of a new weapon.

Blake closed her laptop, knowing that she had to revert to her male body. Her father would come back soon, and she had no idea how he would react if he was made aware of the fact that his son was only his son part of the time. Maybe Dr Bombardier would understand.

Tuesday, June 12th 2007 - Morning
Fredonia, New York

Estevan was waiting in his car, he had already parked the vehicle in front of the house he had to visit. How would they react ? He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but it was part of his job. He often wondered whether or not he would have been able to adopt the same attitude regarding mutants if his twin sister, Sofia, had not been one in the first place. It had played a big part in his decision to pursue a career in science, and more specifically why he had chosen to study mutation. He had always wanted to know what made such individuals tick. The mutation fairy had not visited him, but he was quite happy as a baseline. His interest in mutants was not out of jalousy nor out of fear, it was only curiosity that guided him in his research. He was not the most gifted but there were not that many people with his knowledge willing to work off the book without any malicious intent.

He took one last glance at his rear-view mirror, he immediately thought that he should have shaved this morning. He didn't look professional with his scruffy beard. He mentally hit himself in the head, he knew that the fact that he was a rather young man, compared to most of his colleague anyway, didn't play in his favor. To be able to help and reassure them, they had to take him seriously first. He gathered up his courage and went ringing at the door.

They didn't make him wait for more than a minute, the door swung open. A boy, maybe in his late teens stood in front of him. They stared at each other for a few seconds until Estevan introduced himself, holding out his right hand toward the boy. "Hello, you must be Conner ? I am Dr. Quijano, from Barnett College. I work with Dr. Caldwell. May i come in ?"

He didn't answer right away, yelling first, "Mom, there is someone from Barnett College at the door."

"Well, let him in" she shouted back.

Estevan followed Connar toward the living room, here was waiting madam Harper. She must have been in her late forties and yet at the moment she looked closer to her early sixties. She was visibly distraught, she had deep bags under her eyes. It was hard to say if she had even been able to sleep for more than a few hours in the last three weeks. Estevan tried to not scrutinize the poor woman too hard but he couldn't help noting the messy hair and the bitten nails. He hoped that he could bring some reliefs to this family, but he feared their reactions.

"Hello madam, my name is Dr. Quijano and i am working on your son's case. I am sorry that we haven't been able to …".

She interrupted him, "Would you like some tea, or maybe some coffee ? I think i need tea to calm my nerves. And please, call me Elisa."

"Well, Elisa, i wouldn't mind some tea myself.". She went to the kitchen to prepare the beverage, leaving Estevan alone for a few minutes.

The tea did help calm Elisa. She began, "Duncan has always been such a delightful boy. Dr. Quijano, is it my fault ? Have i done something wrong ?"

He tried to comfort her, "We may not know exactly what determine how a mutant will manifest but i fully believe that you are in no way responsible for your son's current state." It didn't work.

"I should have seen the signs sooner. Maybe if we had been able to act sooner …"

Estevan sighed. "You had no way of knowing your son had manifested. His eyes didn't really change color. And ,while it's true he put up a lot of weight in a short amount of time, it didn't necessarily mean that he had manifested." It seemed she was considering what had been said. She already knew it on an intellectual level, but blaming herself was part of her coping mechanism. Estevan tried to cut to the chase, "Could we go see him ? I would like to observe how it has evolved since the last tests."

They both knew it had to be done, but it was with reluctance that Elisa agreed, "He is … well, he is in his room ..."

When Estevan opened the door, he was astonished by the sight. He had read the rapport and seen some photos of course, but to see it in person was another matter. Had he not been told it was Duncan's bedroom, he would have had some difficulties guessing it. The room was covered in thick white threads, layers on top of layers of threads. And in the middle of the room, attached to the ceiling, floor and walls of the room was some kind of egg-shapped thread construction. A human size construction.

Estevan took a portable ultrasound machine out of his satchel and started to scan the casing. "With your own words, could you describe to me how it happened ?"

Elisa had tears in her eyes. She said, "At first, when he began to produce those … threads, we thought it was rather harmless. Of course it was kinda messy but we could cut them. I haven't met a lot of mutant but i knew that if it was the only result of his mutation, we could live with it." She took a deep breath and continued, "But after a while, the threads grew thicker and thicker. We couldn't cut them anymore. One night i woke up to the sound of a scream, i immediately ran toward the source of it. It was coming from this room. I have still nightmare about this. He was there, almost entirely trapped inside that … thing, his head still outside of it. He screamed and he screamed, he begged me for help. But no matter what we tried, we couldn't liberate him. After several hours … his face was covered too …" At this point, she openly cried. She had to ask, "Doctor … is he … is he alive in there ?"

Estevan looked at his device, the results confirmed his theory. "Your child is alive. On the other hand i can't tell you whether or not he is currently conscious. For his sake, i hope he is not." Elisa's relief was apparent, her biggest fear had been put to rest. "Of course he has had no extensive testing so what i am going to say is only my personal theory. I believe Duncan is a manifestor, and i think he is suffering from a form of Manifestation Augmented Tissue Deformity. The threads that he is able to manifest have formed some kind of PK shell, which is very similar to a cocoon in this particular case both in term of look and function. Duncan's body is currently undergoing a lot of changes, i can't predict when it will end. It's a wild guess but it is possible that his metabolism had already changed more than we could have assumed at first glance. If he had not put on so much weight, he would not have been able to survive his metamorphosis."

Estevan looked nervous for a moment. "Is there something more doctor ?" inquired Elisa.

Estevan sighed. "Another part of my theory seems to have been confirmed by my latest scan. I don't know exactly how Duncan will look in the end, but i am afraid that he will have a lot to adapt to." He paused. "Your son is becoming your daughter."

Saturday, November 10, 2007 – Morning
Poe cottage, Whateley Academy

I woke up early in the morning, or maybe it would be more accurate to say that I hadn't really slept. At all. I was far too stressed to sleep, so many things could go wrong. Far too many ! Would the administration try to screw me over ? Dr. Bellows had said that it would be my choice, but could I really trust them ? And even if they hadn't talked about that particular part of my mutation, it was not like I had been problem free for the last 2 months. I was not yet on first name basis with Chief Delarose, but I was pretty sure that I would get there with Dr. Tenant before my graduation.

I swear, you make ONE mistake and they have you on watch 24/7. I tried to explain to them, I was not trying to kill myself. It was merely a possibility, but definitely not the intended result. I admit, I may have acted rashly, but the reasoning was sound. Dr. Bellows didn't share my opinion, he seemed to think it was further proof that I tended to jump to conclusion too quickly. Well, the joke was on him. We were both wrong ! Take that, psychology ! you are not the ultimate answer to my problems ! And now I will have to be tested again, which make it the third time at whateley alone. Hoorah ! As they say, third time's the charm. Do you feel the excitment in my voice ? Yeah, I am faking it.

Anyway, I was really thankful for how considerate my new roommate had been, and still was, during this ordeal. George had tried to lift my spirit during my somewhat depressive episode. He hadn't minded my tentative to wear a dress, in my Blake body. He had defended me when part of the freshmen had tried to blame me for Anna's disappereance. Which had been pretty ironic, considering that I was in fact Anna. And now that all of this was behind me, he didn't complain about me being a girl part of the time, and that most of the lesbians pretty much hated me. I don't know how my first roommate would have reacted. Nathan had been nice, even if the room had been a mess during my whole stay with him. I may like to be a girl from time to time, it doesn't mean that I liked being a maid. So yeah, I would take George over Nathan any day of the week.

For Amber, it was a little bit more complicated. She had been my second roommate, and was technically still my roommate. Or rather she was still technically Anna's Roommate. But the problem was that honesty should be the cornerstone of any relationship, and I had not been really forthcoming with her regarding the fact that I was still a boy, in spite of the appearance part of the time. This particular revelation had put a strain on our relationship. By that I mean that we were avoiding each other and that I was persona non grata in her/our room.

So this morning, it seemed that George was the only one caring about the fact that I would have to face my father. To say that I was not really enthusiast at the prospect of meeting my father would be an understatement. Even when I was around strangers, I felt that they could see right through me. So with my father ? The man who had raised me ? What chance did I have to fool him ? I feared that one day someone would stand up, point at me and laughed at the freak who couldn't help himself from wearing dresses. Dr. Bellows called this "paranoia" and that it was born out of "my lack of self-confidence". Well, it didn't make it any easier.
Saturday, November 10, 2007 – Still Morning
Crystal Hall, Whateley Academy

"So, they have put you with the nutcases ?" said my father, with a grin that indicated that he was teasing me more than anything else.

Mr. Walter raised an eyebrow. "Well … I hadn't seen this coming, I admit. But if they think you need it … You don't object, do you ?"

"Don't worry, they are nice and not THAT crazy. The administration thinks I have some unresolved issue regarding mom, that's all. I only have some hours a week of counseling. It barely burdens my schedule and it kinda helps". I admit, it was a low blow, but it was not completely false and it would cut short the conversation.

I hadn't expected to see both of them today. My father was, obviously, in his wheelchair. I wondered whether or not he would allow me to tamper with it or, even better, to build him a new one … but that would mean talking about what I could really do, and I was not ready for a demonstration. It was a shame because he really needed it. I had seen the photos from before, what was "standing" in front of me was a shadow of what he once had been. He hadn't been able to walk for almost a decade now. He was too thin, it was as if he had no flesh on his bones. I felt even more ashamed of myself. He was in no condition to travel, and yet he had decided to see me. And in return, I was lying to him.

Mr. Walter on the other hand seemed in perfectly good health, he was slender more than thin. I was grateful that he had taken the effort to try to be inconspicuous. I do mean try because even if there was nothing wrong with what he had chosen to wear, for a change, he couldn't really hide his sharp teeth. Also, even with the scarf, i could still see his second jaw behind it.

In a way, it was nice to see that they were still close friends after all those years. They had met at whateley and hadn't really separated since then. If the same thing could happen to me, I would consider myself lucky.

"As long as you are happy with your cottage, i am fine with it. I have fond memories of Emerson, I hope you will be able to say the same after you graduate, that's all." said my father.

"Humpf, fond memories, Chris, really ? I think you are suffering from a case of selective memory."

"Do you want to talk about your experience at whateley, John ?"

"If we could avoid it …"

"Still, I think we can at least both agree on the fact that thanks to Whateley we have been able to join a rather extensive network."

From here we, or rather they mostly, began to talk about the different cliques. In a way, I thought at times Mr. Walter was bragging about the famous people he had been able to meet, both in highschool and then in his current "career". Dad didn't talk much about what he had done after his graduation, even if he didn't deny that he had worked for some of the people that Mr. Walter was mentioning.

I became the center of attention once more when my Father inquired about my classes. I admit that I had some difficulties talking about those because I had to differentiate between Anna's classes and Blake's classes. I couldn't really explain to my father why I was on the engineering track. Thankfully for some classes even if I was taking them as Anna, I could still mention them. They were both rather interested by my martial arts classes, and Mr. Walter prompted my father to try to meet Ito-sensei.
Saturday, November 10, 2007 – Not quite noon yet
Whateley Academy

We hadn't found Ito-Sensei, but honestly Tolman was the next best thing in my book. Dad was practically harassing her at this point about her experience dealing with empowered students. Mr. Walter used this opportunity to take me aside.

"Well, Kiddo, we can finally talk. He doesn't look like it now but if there is one thing that can really 'hype' your father, it's martial art. He should be occupied for a little while, at least until your 'sensei' has had enough of him. I have never been able to really appreciate it myself, for me it was torture. In my magic classes i tried to always be in control, and then when i had to fight they often asked me to let loose."

My perplexity must have shown on my face because he added "Look, can we be honest with each other ? From man to not quite man yet ?" He sighed and scratched the back of his head, which must have hurt at least a little because of his rather sharp claws. "It doesn't even get easier with time … Let me tell you a story. You see … it's about this young boy, he had a secret and … he could hide it but …" He paused, for at least a minute if not more, and then blurt out "Oh, for fuck sake, I am gay. There, I said it."

I was quite suprised by that revelation, and I must have looked really smart with my eyes wide open. "I would never have guessed". Brillant, if I had a rock nearby I would have crawled under it. Especially when I began to understand what it could mean in regard to my own secret.

"So you were at Whateley"

"Yep"

"And you are Gay"

"True"

"In which cottage …?"

"If you really want me spell it out for you : Poe."

I facepalmed, hard. I didn't want to crawl under a rock anymore, I wanted to bury myself alive. I didn't know what to say, thankfully he was the one who decided to talk. "Look, I won't make any assumption. I have seen enough things in Poe to not try to take a wild guess at what might have justified your placement. I won't even 'force' you to talk to me about it, but if you want to, I am here. Your father is also here for you. You know he is never going to reject you, right ?" I wanted to nod at that, but I simply couldn't. "I am serious." For a moment he looked as embarassed as me. "I was talking about honesty before so … during my time at whateley, my biggest crush was on Chris." I coughed at that. "I know, nobody want to hear that about his father, but it's true. He had this … thing. He didn't take shit from anyone, he was not an exemplar but during his Sophomore year he began to really bulk up and honestly he was quite handsome. We were already best friends at that point. During our junior years, I confessed to him. Even today, it is one of the most frightening things I have ever done. It was not a fairy tale, he was not interested but he didn't bash me or insult me." I was quite confused, it didn't fit the image I had of my father. "I won't talk about it to your father, I swear I won't. During my senior year, I have been outed, so I don't plan on doing the same to you, even if I am pretty sure that your father would understand."

"How did it happen ?"

"Let's just say all straight men are not as understanding as your father and that I have bad luck regarding who I am attracted to. Even after my sexual orientation became more or less public knowledge, your father stuck with me. It hurt his reputation quite a bit, rumors being what they are, especially if you take into account the fact that his codename was 'The Iron Maiden' … Yeah one day I will explain to you why if you really want to know. Or you could ask your father about it."

Head bobbing to the jazz pouring out of my heavy, sweaty earphones, I ride my mighty metal beast across the field toward our rotund and unsuspecting prey. As I draw near, I veer off to the side and hear an imagined sigh of relief as I drive directly away. Then I depress the clutch and the brake. I stop only long enough to shift into reverse before smoothly releasing the clutch and twisting around to peer over my shoulder at my quarry, steering with one hand while the other lightly caresses the warm levers at my side. I press one down while I close the gap, and the hydraulics hiss as the large rear spikes are brought to bear. A depressed clutch and a light touch on the brake slow my approach enough to avoid undue harm to the petrified bale as the spikes pierce through it. A simple tug on the lever raises them and the bale both, lifting them helplessly into the air for transport.

But I'm not done. I press more firmly on the brake and shift back into fourth gear. The tractor growls as I release the clutch, belching hot exhaust into the atmosphere where it will work over the coming decades to warm these northern lands and increase the length of my growing season. Meanwhile, I lurch forward and begin approaching another unsuspecting bale. This time there will be no subterfuge. I line up and close in face to face. The tractor shudders in anticipation as I work the levers to lower the loader arms and drop the forks to rest on the ground. They slide under the bale, and then a flick of a lever tilts it up off the ground while another lifts it clear into the air.

I hum along to the saxophone as I haul my two captives across the field to the close-packed rows of their brethren I've lined up along the edge for easy loading into the trucks that will come to haul them away. That's 98 down and 86 left to go before I move on to the next field. My wide-open doors funnel warm summer air through the cab as I select the next targets, and the sax wails over my droning engine. Life is good.

Did three versions of the Reveal of Icy's power up, not sure which I like better so... Reader's choice! Pick 1, 2, or 3 on the Discussion thread.

Version 1;

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed Icy stood and stretched again, her form shifting from a human beauty, into a demonic beauty; her skin went from a healthy California tan to a pale blue-white as bat like wings unfurled from her back. The wing membrane, between the supporting fingers, looked like a thin sheet of ice that someone had lifted from a puddle. A sinuous tail grew from her lower spine, flexing and writhing.

Icy's eyes flared blue as her mouth opened in a silent yawn, her incisors elongating as her fingers became talons, and her feet shifted so she was standing on feet that had two hoofed toes which she now stood on. Pure white feathers of fur fluffed out on her lower legs and lower arms, making her look like she was wearing fuzzy opera gloves and leg warmers.

~*~

Version 2;

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed Icy stood and stretched again, her form shifting from a human beauty, into a demonic beauty; her skin went from a healthy California tan to a pale blue-white as bird like wings unfurled from her back. The wings looked like they where made of flat shards of ice carved from the heart of a glacier and as the sun refracted through them it cast the room in the blues and greens one found in centuries old compressed ice. A sinuous tail grew from her lower spine, stopping when it was nearly as long as her legs, flexing and writhing the whole time.

Icy's eyes flared blue as her mouth opened in a silent yawn, her incisors elongating as her fingers became talons, and her feet shifted so she was standing on feet that had two toes forward and something like a dew claw facing behind. Spun glass ruffs of feathers fluffed out on her lower legs and lower arms, making her look like she was wearing fuzzy opera gloves and leg warmers.

~*~

Version 3;

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed Icy stood and stretched again, her form shifting from a human beauty, into a demonic beauty; her skin went from a healthy California tan to a pale blue-white as ice like shards of bone grew out along her spine. A feline tail grew from her lower spine, stopping at about her knees. It flexed and writhed as her ears grew pointed and tufts of fur appeared on their tips.

Icy's eyes flared blue as they reshaped, becoming vertical slits in pale green orbs. Her mouth opened in a silent yowl as her incisors elongating. Her hands and feet shifted becoming a blending of paw and human appendage. Her fingers flexed, unsheathing wicked claws that where transparent. Icy shook her body as spun glass fur fluffed out over her body coating her in a glittering coat of short white fur with darker blue tiger striping.