Wesley's cheeks get a couple shades redder. "Um, it's the smart move?" he tries. "She's got hero worship. It would be wrong for me to take advantage of that. And... I'm not ready for the world to know I'm Arcanum."
Wesley takes a brief look around the place, then takes a seat in one of the chairs.
As she ties her skates on her feet, he squats down in front of her. ”Listen, chica. Don’t want you takin’ this the wrong way, cause I don’t mean any insult by it. But…you know how close you were to gettin’ yerself killed out there today? I know you got a lot of nifty gadgets and are in Hella good shape,” he pauses before reaching up and tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, ”but you gotta be careful when s~*~ is gettin’ real. You gotta watch out for Number One before you can take care of anyone else.”
She managed to get it on, but looks annoyed as she fumbles with one hand to try and get the buttons done. She's still half dressed when they stop by the Infini-bucks. "Would you be a dear and button me up? I could probably do it on my own, but it'll be faster with your help."
"Not really cliché as it is just sort of standard for your lair?" Tumbler said with a shrug, crossing her bare legs. "I would be more impressed if it came with a weapons cache, or masseur robots, maybe a walk-in closet of disguises?" She suggests to Derby. "Is this standard for all of the Hatrix family to get their own theme base?"
“The other is I trust my training, and when that fails and I’m bleeding in the dirt, I trust that I will be teleported to an emergency room.”
She rises, ready to head out.
“If I choose the former, I’ll be working from home and my invincible cousin will be the one leading a very-well-funded team.”
DD has a guilty look as Tumbler mentions the robot. “Yes… I actually am working on a fembot. She’s not ready yet. PSI on the shoulder rubs needs tweaking.”
”If you need someone to help you with testing proper pressures, I could give you a few massages. In the name of science, of course!” Diego comments.
With tinted specs hiding her eyes, lips never really expressing the Darling Derby’s feeling, the only hint of a reaction to the massage offer is a pause. A pause, where normally a one-line retort is quick.
”Appreciated, Dervish. Wouldn’t be apples to apples.”
Wesley very deliberately keeps his eyes focused on the road while Tumbler gets changed in his convertible. He does what he can to avoid spending any time driving alongside any trucks as well.
When she asks him to button her up, he glances over. "Oh, sure. Hang on," he says as he looks for an opportune red light or a straight stretch of road where he could shift focus. Unfortunately, with Bay City traffic being like it is, he doesn't get an obvious chance. "Here." He telekinetically takes control of the wheel and leans over to work the buttons with his hands.
Wes's mouth twists as he listens to Diego flirt. He clears his throat, interrupting. "You know, next time we should probably volunteer to help clean up. That looks like a rough job." He gestures to the video showing the cleanup efforts on the beach.
”I heard Wendy likes it rough,” comes a voice from behind the group on the couches. Calmly striding towards you is a gorgeous young woman in a glittering black gown and an ornate golden crown. With platinum blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and luscious long legs, she is a vision of goddesslike beauty. She smirks and gives the Darling Derby a wink. ”Don’t you, cousin?”
"Wow..." Wesley tries not to ogle. He suppresses an urge to conjure up a parade, or buff himself up more, or put on some other display of his incredible powers.
He closes his eyes and counts to five quickly, then resolves to open them -- if only to watch Diego make a fool of himself.
The Darling Derby has overcompensated in every waking moment (and possibly in her sleep too) for her lack of super powers. Her team has seen her charge supervillains without hesitation, take beatings and remain undeterred and unfazed, and in her interactions with her team she’s proven unflappable when resolving conflicts, getting teased or flirted with, and not getting her way and seeming fine with it.
The team has never seen her weak. Never. Until just now, when her kryptonite walked into the room.
Derby is still facing the holographic image when her lips form the ‘O’ of ‘oh s$++,’ a phrase she wisely internalizes.
She turns with a too-wide smile facing her cousin in time to catch the wink. “Of course, Daphne, and I have the bruises to prove it.” She rises from her seat after that not-witty reply. She then does the right thing: hug her cousin. “So good of your to drop in, cousin! You know Ziss the White Fox who lives in our house, this is Megan the Crimson Tide, Carmen a.k.a. Tumbler, Diego also known as Dervish, and Wesley - Arcanum.
“We are the Bay Watchmen! And team, this is Daphne Hatrix the Crass Crown. Powers include flight, icy glare, and invincibility.”
And making me look like a pathetic wanna-be faker.
Ziss sits at the small space Tumbler left on the couch, more silent than usual. The underground base was nice, but Ziss wasn't impressed neither by the place nor by the technology, since both Razzara and Tharis were worlds more advanced than Earth.
She rolls her eyes at Diego's flirts towards Wendy. She had already seen him flirt with Tumbler, Megan, and now Wendy, so she considered him a despicable person, unworthy of trust.
Knowing the rivalry between Wendy and her cousin, Ziss could not see her beauty, just her poisonous tongue. The few times she had met her, Ziss had not said a single word aside from 'hi'.
Ziss bows to Daphne, walking to stand besides Wendy. "Wendy has been an incredible leader. We all owe her much."
Well now.
"Hi," Tumbler says, trying to look casual but interested in the arrival of the Crass Crown. Though she also tucked her bad arm against the couch's arm rest to avoid letting it stick out.
"It's really a pleasure to meet you. I'll admit though...I expected to be on the other side still when we first met. Nothing wrong with this, aside from losing the chance to have a proper feud. I always thought I deserved to be someone's nemesis...well, no more." She giggles, giving her a look with her charming eyes.
"Tell us about yourself, Daphne. I'm very curious about how you like to relax. Go on a date with a boyfriend...or girlfriend?" She asks.
The Darling Derby bites her lip.
F&&#… f$*$, f%$&, f$!~… f#%#ing f$%&…
She is either feigning calmness very badly or expressing silent tension on purpose.
Daphne returns Wendy’s hug, then she flashes the rest of the team a dazzling smile. ”So nice to finally meet all of you. I’ve seen the news reports of your recent exploits.” She looks around the abandoned skate park turned secret hideout. ”Hmm. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but everybody has to start somewhere,” she remarks with a glance back at Wendy.
Daphne’s eyes light up when Tumbler begins to flirt, not-so-subtly. ”Well, Carmen, I would have been happy to have been your nemesis! But now that you’ve reformed, we can both play for the same team...” She glides over to the couch where Tumbler is sitting and gracefully sits beside her, crossing those long legs of hers. ”I do enjoy dating, but alas, I currently find myself without a girlfriend. Perhaps you might know someone who is interested in filling that position?” She arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
Tumbler smiles, peering at the Crass Crown and rather enjoying this. She missed good, flirty banter with sidekicks. "I don't know - not a lot of my old friends pick up for me these days," She says. She thinks about shifting closer, but decides against - she doesn't want her to see her bad side. "It's nice of you to check in on your cousin. You must know a lot about her," She asks, not shy about trying to dig up dirt on their team leader.
Diego simply gives a nod in greeting to the Crass Crown’s entrance. Of course he had seen pictures and news reports of her before. And yeah, she was hot. But in a “I know it,” sort of way he always found a touch off putting, especially in metas. Mundane chicks that were hot and had that demeanor were different, because it was all they had. But supers…bleh.
So he turned his attention back to Wendy. ”So…how about some apples?”
The Darling Derby says to Ziss, “Thanks for putting in a good word with my cousin. She heard you.” But she heard Tumbler and chose to repond in the way that would f@*& up my day perfectly. She doesn’t even need her ice beams to paralyze me. “And I heard you, Ziss.”
As DD attempts to comfort Ziss, she seems to have complete disregard for her own comfort. Her fists are clenched so tight, one might think she is deliberately attempting to stab her palms with her own fingernails.
DD breathes audibly. “Apples? For what? Throwing?”
Diego smirks mischievously before vanishing in a flash of crimson. A couple seconds later, he reappears with an apple in each hand. He offers one to Wendy and says ”If you want,” before taking a bite of his own while casting a glance towards Crass.
Ziss can't help but stare as Tumbler and Daphne flirt with each other, her face showing a bit of a shock at least... something more even... fear? Discomfort? Certainly confusion.
Wendy's words bring Ziss brings her back. "Wha... uhn... it was de least I could do, and also de truf. I was tought to tell de truf as often as possible, specially when it makes people happy." She can't help but to notice Wendy's state as she looks at Daphne and Tumbler.
Ziss eyes open wide as something downs on her. She looks at Wendy, clearly worried as she whispers to her, her voice trembling a bit, anxious. "Wendy, do you... like girls?"
“A helicopter crashing on her didn’t scathe her. I won’t waste the apple.” DD takes a bite.
"It's nice of you to check in on your cousin. You must know a lot about her," She asks, not shy about trying to dig up dirt on their team leader.
Daphne laughs, a sound like tinkling ice. ”Oh, yes! Quite a bit, and likely more than she’d be comfortable with me sharing with the class,” she says. ”And I am a good cousin, so I would never do anything to make Wendy feel... uncomfortable...” At that, she leans closer to Tumbler and whispers in her ear. ”Meet me for dinner tonight and I’d be happy to spill the tea, so to speak.”
Tumbler is keeping her cool, even if she's wondering if this perfect princess would be as happy to do dinner with her if she was seeing the full picture.
"Only if you're paying," She whispers back as she tries to play a little hard to get here. She obviously wants her, so a small hurdle or two weren't out of line. And she was quite pretty. Tumbler combed her fingers through her hair and smiled at her. "We should exchange numbers. Just in case of an emergency that requires your assistance," She said, picking up her 'hero' phone.
The Darling Derby’s fingernails pierce the skin of her bitten apple. A drop of juice hits the floor. DD takes another bite, teeth sinking in like a vampire’s. She holds it in place, savoring the sensation of juice dripping down her chin. A savage crunch breaks off the next bite. What’s left of the apple is buried in a tight fist.
Do I like girls?
DD replies to Ziss in a casual tone, ”What’s not to like?”
Ziss frowns at Wendy's answer, unsure if she is playing with her, or if she did not understood her question. "I do not mean as friend or sister. I mean as partner... is it not a crime here?" Ziss looks really worried.
”Of course. It’s only logical, after all,” Daphne replies coolly. She takes Tumbler’s phone and taps at it, returning it a few moments later. Her phone number is written there, along with a short note: Le Bistrot, 8 PM. I’m paying.
Wesley never wanted to retreat into his lamp more than right now. Watching the interplay between Tumbler and Daphne -- and how they both seemed interested in each other -- set his head spinning. The little side conversation between Ziss and Wendy didn't help matters.
He abruptly stands up. "I suddenly remembered, I have a..." a what? What do I have? I have nothing! "a thing... that I have to do. At home. Where I live."
He stumbles somewhat drunkenly away from the ring of couches and heads towards the exit. "Good meeting you, good fighting evil with everyone. Let's do it again sometime."
Remembering Ziss has traveled other worlds, Wendy gives a more serious answer. ”It would be a crime to get in the way of two lovely young ladies whose hearts throb with mutual desire to engage in sapphic exploration.”
Her grip on the apple relaxes. She slowly takes another bite.
The taste of defeat.
Tumbler looked at the number, then looked at Arcanum, thinking about his duplicate. "Well, until later," She said to her date, scooting out of her seat and facing away in a fashion to keep her right side out of angle with Daphne's viewpoint. "I should probably go rest up and prepare..."
Wesley's eyes are haunted when he turns around and listens to Tumbler's request. He thinks briefly on the way it could be done -- make a construct, hang around close by and remote-puppet her hand... it's be awkward and he'd have to watch her the whole time. Not what he'd want to do, especially if she was going on a date with Daphne. That's so wrong on so many levels.
He could -- at a cost. What the hell. "I think so. Yeah, I probably could make something happen. You need it now? Or, whenever. Text me."
Ziss visibly relaxes as Wendy informs it is not a crime for a girl to date a girl on Earth. "Oh! Is is a crime in Razzara, and it is not seen as good in Askara." She is not completely relaxed, however, since Wendy answered only half of her question. She did ask her twice the same question already, so she'd not ask a third time.
As the others start to leave, Ziss grabs her hoverboard. "I need a time to fink." She informs Wendy and soon she hovers away.
DD turns to Dervish. “I suppose I’m not gonna get much pity from you, you being a guy in a room full of sexually-repressed lesbians. Thanks for the apple, though.”
"I'll figure something out. Though it's a fancy restaurant so wearing layers would probably not work..." She tells him. "Probably check to see if the Magpie is holding something to help me."
A knife of guilt twists in Wesley's gut. He shakes his head. "No, it's not... it'll be fine. If you w-- If you want me to help, I'll help. I want to help."
He quirks a smile. "And it won't be just an illusion, you know."
It appears to be made of burnished brass, obviously ancient yet remarkably well-preserved. There's a heft, a weight to it that seems to thrum with power. It's beautiful, mesmerizing, and ominous.
"So, uh, yeah. This is it." He holds it out, in case she wants to hold it.
The Darling Derby is only hesitant because she recognizes the privilege. Her breath trembles as she carefully handles the magical object.
“Wow, so… I’m actually gonna go inside?”
She is completely geeking out internally. A question sort of falls out of her mouth. “Should I remove my skates? I’m not allowed to wear them in my house.”
Wesley looks down at her skates and thinks for a moment. "If you want to. Everything seems to get reset every time I go back in, so I'm not worried about dirt or anything. But the rugs are really soft, so you'll probably want to feel your bare feet on them anyway."
DD skates over to a gargoyle, removes her skates and peels off her socks. She turns them inside out and places on each on a gargoyle’s tusks to air out.
The wind takes one sock off the roof. ”S+@!.”
With a shrug, she skips over to Wesley.
“I’m as ready as I can be.” Grinning, she looks at the little lamp. So many questions! She asks none.
He takes the lamp and stuffs it into a recessed corner of the roof, then takes Derby's hand. "Just hang on," he says.
There's the brief sensation of falling, spinning, but before she can react she's back on solid footing. Her feet register soft, pillowy carpeting beneath them, and she hears tinkling otherworldly music. Her new surroundings are bathed in warm, golden light. Walls covered in rich tapestries woven with golden thread arch ever so slightly inward, giving the feeling of being inside a curved vessel. Low tables bear platters heaped with wonderful foodstuffs -- grapes, dates, figs, olives, and flatbreads. Everywhere she looks, Derby sees opulence and luxury.
Wendy looks around. She picks up a fruit, “What is this?” She blushes at the answer. Of course I don’t know what a date is. Nice.
She gladly samples the fruits!
“It’s really beautiful in here… I mean, the horrible catch isn’t lost on me. I kinda feel bad for enjoying this.”
She looks at Wesley, wondering how this place makes him feel.
While Wendy tries the fruits, Wesley sets the scepter down on a nearby pedestal. There are other objects of art and... other significance.
"Yeah, I get it. It's the very definition of a gilded cage." He looks around. "I mean, it's better than being crammed inside a tiny lamp. And I think the music that's playing hasn't been heard in a thousand years. So... there's that."
He gives her a smile. "You don't have to feel bad for liking it. I kind of like it, for what it is."
“So… how often do you go here? Do you worry that someone could grab the lamp while you’re in it?”
Wendy didn’t miss the not-crammed-in-a-tiny-lamp comment… but the curvature of the vast interior is not lost on her either.
"Well, yeah. But it's not like the Curator is going to lose the lamp if some rando picks it up and rubs it. He's got Ownership, somehow. I mainly visit here when I'm home, late at night. In my folks' panic room."
He picks up a carafe and a couple goblets. "There's wine, too. I don't think it will get you drunk, though. I've drank a lot of it, and I haven't even gotten a buzz."
Wendy remembers Ziss’ warning, but she tries the wine. Nonalcoholic. She trusts Wesley.
“Panic room… so you grew up surrounded by a manicured lawn, surrounded by a gate, surrounded by neighbors, the closest of whom live miles away?
“…too?”
She smiles. “I lived on both sides of the fence. Rich or poor doesn’t matter. My aunt wants me, my mother didn’t but kept me anyway. I don’t know who my father is. A Hatrix, I presume, or why would Aunt Maude even bother with me?”
He takes a bunch of grapes and lies down on the cushions. He tosses them one by one into the air and catches them in his mouth, unerringly and aided by a little telekinesis. "Yeah, that's about right," he says in between grapes. "My parents are in the tech business. Real Lithium Valley millionaires. I don't know what it's like having superheroes for parents, but I get what it's like to have parents who don't really want you but can't be bothered to get rid of you."
He looks around again at the opulent interior. "I haven't told them about all this. I doubt they'd care much; they lost interest in me pretty much when they realized I'd rather read a musty old book or study a three-hundred year old piece of pottery than help program their latest gizmo."
“With my mom, it was the boyfriends keeping her attention off me. I thought invisibility was my superpower until one of her two-nighters gave me the creepy eye. I hadn’t even developed breasts at the time.
“Still haven’t, really,” she adds, totally not talking about her breasts, or lack thereof, in front of a guy because she’s buzzed from the definitely-nonalcoholic wine.
Wendy sits on the sofa and chucks a grape in the air. The brim of her derby obscures the grape; she doesn’t see it fall behind her onto the carpet.
“This Curator. He doesn’t get to keep you. Is there a plan to prevent this? Do you require a plan?” Her cheeks are pink from half a glass of wine. “I can plan… better than I name teams, anyway.”
Wesley gulps down the last of the wine in his goblet and tosses it behind him. "That-- that sucks." He stares at the ceiling as he thinks of his future. "From what I understand, I'm not 'there' yet. I haven't fully developed all my powers. When I do-- that's it. I'm completely owned by the Curator. And he gets to control me, what I look like, what I think, and what I do. All these powers are his. So the plan?" He looks at Wendy and a haunted expression crosses his face. "Draw it out, is all I can think of. Try not to learn how to use these powers better. Don't grow."
Wendy finishes her wine… and realllllly wishes she hadn’t!
“That’s… not a plan.
“It’s buying time. The Bay Watchmen have six brains.“ She chucks another grape over her shoulder. “We’ll find a way to stop that Curator.”
Wesley looks down at his hands. "You're right. But it's... a strategy, at least. 'Cause... I don't want to be used as a weapon against you."
Wendy chucks another grape in the air. It bounces off her hat.
“Wait… am I overthinking because I’m buzzed on nonalcoholic wine? Or am I correctly taking the ‘weapon against you’ bit personally?
“That is to say… is it your intent to imply that the Curator is targeting me? Or you-plural, meaning our team?”
Wesley furrows his brow as it seems like Wendy's getting affected by the wine. "You... plural? If-- when-- it happens, you'll try to save me, and he'll use me against you. All of you."
With a cocky grin, Wendy says, “Of course I would. What makes you think I couldn’t?”
With that, she takes a handful of grapes—whips them over her shoulder—all five or six or so spreading in flight, but remaining near-aligned in a slight arc.
She whips her Hatarang blindly. The hat catches every grape.
And the Darling Derby catches her hat.
“Your fate is in good hands, I assure you, Wesley.”
She puts her hat back on. Two grapes roll out of it onto the floor, juice from a squished grape drips down the side of her face, and she presumes the rest are in her hair.
“Oh, balls.”
Wesley waves away Wendy's worry. "You can't mess this place up. You're good."
”I’m not worried about you’re self-cleaning rug. I’m worried about you.”
She stops herself from pouring more wine by filling her glass with grapes, dates and figs.
“You didn’t bring me into your Private Hell to show me that being an immortal slave isn’t so bad after all… did you?”
Wesley shakes his head slowly. "I don't know. Sometimes I try to pretend. Try to think about how cool it all is, and block out the bad parts. Like, I show it off, and you can see how nice, and posh, and just, like..." he gestures to everything around him, "...beautiful it all is."
He goes silent for a moment. "Maybe I should've shown it to Dervish instead."
Wendy feels kinda guilty, now seeing this was just meant to be fun.
“Oh..no! The honor’s not lost or wasted on me, Wesley. It’s truly beautiful here—and I’m trying to internalize the geeking out.
“I just… I don’t mean to vent. It’s a lot of pressure. I mean, I couldn’t even get the crew to smile today. Even pretended to be ticklish just hoping one of you would laugh at my expense. Those selfies are good publicity, and despite the grumpy faces, we just got something big… really big.”
She ’drinks’ a fig and a date, then sinks into the cushions.
“I’m so sorry Wesley that I… can’t just turn it off, be Wendy. I don’t know who the f@%# Wendy is.”
She puts her glass down and removes her hat. Two squished grapes remain stuck in her hair. She dumps the other grapes from her hat.
“Nobody did, or wanted to, until I was Wendy Hatrix.”
Wesley gives her a sympathetic look. "So, your family of capes only care if you are a cape too? I hope that's not really the case, but I'm sure it can feel that way. But, I'll bet Wendy is ten times more interesting than Darling Derby."
Wendy shakes her head. “Aunt Maude adopted me when Wendy was my only name. I came up with the Daring Derby… she added the L outta love.”
With some hesitation, she admits, “It’s not them who thinks Wendy’s a boring nerd. It’s me. And my biological parents, if you need an adult or two to blame.”
Wesley forces out a chuckle. "Come on. You're a super hero now. And I'll bet the other Hatrix all are really impressed, since you're doing this without powers. That's got to be, like, a thousand times tougher than getting splashed with mutagenic goo. Maybe a little safer, though. But I sure never would've tried this life if I wasn't cursed to be an all-powerful being enslaved for all eternity."
Wendy shrugs, “I guess. My meeting with the Capped Crusader went well—my great-grandfather!—so yeah… Hatrix patriarch is happy, everybody’s happy.
“But what about you? Who is Wesley Andrews? And can you really program gizmos? Asking for a nerdy friend.”
"I..." Wesley trails off, his generally gloomy expression growing orders of magnitude darker. "It doesn't matter."
With effort, he pulls himself out of his melancholy. "Yeah, I know a bit of programming. A lot, actually. This nerdy friend anyone I know?" He tries for a smile but fails.
Wendy smiles without effort. “I think you do. I think you would, even if she never donned her hat.”
Diego shrugs. ”Naw. But I guess I’d be stupid if I didn’t ask if there’s also an interest in boys lurking about in there too?”
“Sorry to say, my cousin and I have two things in common: the same interest in girls, and interest in the same girl whom we both know will end up with her.
“Upside, this is the least disappointing loss. I told myself I wouldn’t date members of the team. Hopefully Megan and Ziss have a budding mutual interest and I need not worry about my impartiality being compromised.”
Her eyes fall to the apple core in her hand.
“The flirting was fun though, Diego. I didn’t want to out myself, nor lead you on… you’re fun. And I’m flattered. And this was a really f&%%ing good apple—where’d you get it?”
Diego takes another bite and says with his mouth full ”Maffathusets.”
“Home state of Johnny Appleseed. Excellent choice.”
With that said, she leaves the base and him, heading off on her own.
Tumbler knows when Magpie is ready to entertain his alternative clientele, which was when she walked in. The older man was white haired and with a hawkish nose that his tiny glasses were perched on. He looked surprised to see her step in.
"My lass! Oh, twice in one week, such rarity! I..." He blinked twice, peering at her right side. "Goodness, that doesn't seem right."
"It's nothing. Well, not nothing, but I'll need something to cover up the fact I'm...currently inconvenienced," She says. "I know it's coming right after my other favor-"
"Oh, I don't mind at all! No, no, let's see," he said as she was guided into the backroom, crates from all over the world stacked here. He looks around for a bit, before coming back with what looked like a piece of tech that had been recently salvaged and refurbished. "This device uses a crystal from the Nineteenth Dimension, very rare to get. It will ensure you appear as you think. But it will burn out after use, and won't last longer than a few hours."
"That's fine, it'll be my back up then," She tells the smaller man, picking it up. "I'll see you around."
"Oh, I expect to call on your services sooner rather than later, my lass," Magpie croons after her with a devious smile.
"It'll be fine. I think you'll really like it," Wesley says.
Wesley drives home after dropping Tumbler off near her apartment. Seeing that no one else was home, he parks his Audi and heads into his room, closing the door and locking it behind him.
He lets his anger boil. Of course. Of course everyone on his team would be into girls. With a thought he throws open his closet and stares at his reflection in the full-length mirror. A boy. A fairly handsome boy, if he did say so himself. Blessed with good genes and a fast metabolism, he didn't have to work out much to stay skinny, and puberty was rather kind to him -- turning a gawkish and reclusive tween into a young man with a strong jaw and solid cheekbones.
It's a shame all that's going to go away once the Curator takes control.
Wesley couldn't let go of the lamp as energy poured into him. He struggled with every fiber of his being, but he could feel those fibers becoming unraveled and restitched in ways he couldn't fathom. He vaguely remembered screaming.
After an unknown amount of time, the lamp finished its work with him. He felt like gasping for breath, but that mundane activity seemed beneath him. His head swam, as he clung to the concept of Wesley Andrews even though something told him that minor being was in his distant past. Professor Braithwaite was still there, staring in awe and delight at him.
"What just happened?!?" he asked, refusing to acknowledge the reality that was pressing upon him.
His mentor, Professor Braithwaite, simply smiled. "You should know this, my boy. Or should I say, 'my servant.'" The smile grew deeper, and more cruel.
"What?" He rubbed his eyes. It was a ludicrous concept, but somehow his soul responded to that statement. Like he couldn't deny its truth.
"You're the genie of the lamp now. And as I own it, so do I own you. The power you're feeling? Mine to command."
Wesley clutched his head. "No, this isn't right. I can't... I mean, I shouldn't be believing you."
Professor Braithwaite's smile becomes more condescending. "It'll take some time before you come into your full power. After all, being able to remake reality itself isn't a mere lark. I'll train you in your abilities as they grow. We'll start off small. Maybe I'll have you take on a more aesthetically pleasing form."
Wesley's fear rose. "Huh?" was all he could muster.
"I'd truly hoped Daniela would be able to complete the inscription. I'd much rather be waited upon hand and foot by a comely young female. But your gender will be easily remedied once I command you to become a girl. Then I'll simply make you forget you were ever Wesley, and you needn't worry about anything else except seeing all my wishes come true."
The truth again of the museum Curator's words struck home the reality of his situation -- and in the ensuing panic he did a very human thing: he grabbed the lamp and ran.
This is my fate anyway, right? Wesley lets himself shift into a female version of himself. It's surprisingly easy; most likely because his future master wants this for him. He flinches at the reflection, slamming shut the door to his closet.
His mind spins as he tries to ignore the sensations of his modified body -- he'd shapeshifted before, why was this so much more difficult? Because this will be you eventually. Mind and soul.
With a cry, Wesley does what he intended to do -- obliterate his right hand. Then he calls upon the powers of wishcraft, hearing Tumbler's unspoken wish and losing a part of himself in the process.
His feminine hand is slowly replaced with clockworks and gears, spun from golden energy and bound in an ivory sheath. It's delicate and intricate, a work of art.
Calling forth a cloak over his feminine form Wesley slips out of his empty house and drives recklessly to meet up with Tumbler outside the restaurant.
Wendy has just had her bath. She is in her robe—the off-white one with brown gear patterns—and her legs have more band-aids than usual.
“Yes,” she replies. Without her cousin around, she is considerably better at giving a straight answer.
Ziss sits on her bed after removing her boots, sitting with her legs crossed. She seems troubled. "How... do I know if I like girls? I have never considered it..."
Wendy sits on her own bed, and says with a shrug, “At first, I just thought I hadn’t been interested in boys. Like, as in not yet.
“But I kinda knew I never would after a day at the beach with Daphne. She knew. She commented on some college girls, her humor not yet refined but shamelessly honest… and I just looked at what my cousin was calling attention to, and I… agreed.
“Not with her crude words—which I will not repeat—but the attraction. I felt it, not for the first time. But it was the first time I acknowledged it.”
She thinks a moment, then decides it best to keep her question open ended.
“What made you first acknowledge your attraction to…”
She smiles shyly. Her usual all-business-no-feelings facade is as notably absent as the wet hair on her head where a hat should be. And is it the lingering heat of her recently-terminated bath, or is Wendy blushing as she says,
”…girls?”
Ziss closes her eyes trying to concentrate and to think before answering Wendy. "I have seen girls dat I do find beautiful. You, Megan, Tumbler, your cousin, that girl Arcanum saved... but I have also seen boys dat I do find handsome. Arcanum, Dervish..." As she says Dervish's name, her lower lips tremble for a bit and her eyes become wet, and a tear slides down her face. She raises her knees and embraces them, almost curling into a ball, as if she was trying to protect herself.
She opens her eyes again. "Finding people beautiful is not de same as attraction, right?" She asks, pleading. "What is it like to be attracted to someone? Is it like to want to be close? Or touch? Or... be t...touched?"
"I did not know dere was options aside from boys, but I can't stand to fink about being touched by dem ag..." She tries to explain, but her voice falters. She appears to have difficult breathing, now trembling even if the room is far from chilly. She puts a hand on her chest as if feeling pain, while she crawls back until she hits the wall and then along the bed until she is nestled on the corner of the bad. Tears run rampant now.
Jyx comes closer to Ziss, worried, meowing and pressing her forehead against Ziss's leg, but she apparently hasn't noticed it.
Wendy freezes for a moment, entertaining the futile hope that Ziss did not experience the nightmare scenario that she managed to avoid. But I never broke down like that over what didn’t happen.
She moves to Ziss’ bed. “Someone hurt you… I get it. And it’s not your fault.” She wants to tell her Dervish isn’t like the man who hurt her. He’s nothing like that. But overwhelming Ziss is unhelpful.
Instead she says, “Attraction doesn’t mean there must be touching… and touching can be just a hand to hold onto, a shoulder to cry on.
“This house is safe,” she assures Ziss as she offers a hand.
"Waisetsu... waisetsu... he kept calling me... everyone told me he was a good man... holy... his hungry eyes, like Dervish! It was my fault... he was a good holy man... everyone knew dat... but he touched me under my skirt... he showed me his hand, and it was wet... he told me I wanted it! Waisetsu!" She cries profusely as she holds Wendy's hand, her foreign language sound like Japanese somehow.
Wendy would gladly put holes in this ‘holy’ man. It is of some consolation to her that she will never cross paths with him.
“Oh, Ziss… he is not holy and I promise you Dervish would never. But most importantly is that you did not want…
“Damn him, Ziss. There’s nothing good or holy about him, nor any man who uses his position to get close to a child. Holy man, teacher, mother’s boyfriend… it’s not your fault.”
She holds onto Ziss’ hand, would gladly hug her and let her cry in her lap.
“Just trust me on this much… none of that is your fault, Ziss. Not good. Not holy. Not your fault or your choice or anything that makes your sister think less of you.”
Wendy’s words are choked by tears of her own.
Ziss crumbles, sobbing as she cries on Wendy's lap. "You sure? Isn't my body... my skin... my face waisetsu?"
"I want to like girls, because I don't fink I could ever let any oder man touch me..." She looks at her, desperate. "But what if dat isn't enough? Wanting? What if I can never let anyone touch me again? What if I'm broken? Who will want someone like me?"
Wendy strokes her hair, consoling her as best she can.
“You’re not broken. You’re hurt, but not broken.”
Wendy watches for telltale signs, a shudder, tensing up, any apparent discomfort. The touch is meant to be that of a friend, a sister… and yes, a team leader too. Carmen and my cousin… this is good. Because right here and now, I’m where I’m needed.
“This word you keep saying can’t be true. I’m holding you… yes, as a sister, as a comforting friend, but also as a girl who finds you attractive and respects you, body, mind and soul.
“Try not to think too many moves ahead on this. You need to take steps. Tonight, I need you to trade that W-word for a new word. Nothing more.
“Do you think you can try that?” Wendy looks upon the head in her lap with kindness. “A new word from me. One that is true, unlike the W-word, which is a lie—a word the bad man should apply to himself.
“Are you ready for the word I have for you, Ziss?”
Ziss stays silent for many minutes, apparently enjoying Wendy's touch, or at least not avoiding it. Her sobs and tears appear to diminish with time, until she sits, watching Wendy with renewed hope.
She nods to Wendy, waiting for her word.
”Innocent.”
Ziss takes in the word, closing her eyes and once more crossing her legs. She remains like this for a couple minutes, wiping her runny nose and tears on the sleeves of her blouse when needed, slowly steadying herself. "It will take me some time to fink of myself as innocent. I want to believe in you, Wendy, I really do, but it is so difficult..."
She opens her eyes, trying to smile, something she fails miserably, even if she is indeed trying. She then looks at Wendy, all of her, as if for the first time, as if a veil has been removed from her eyes, but then she away, once more with haunted eyes.
"Wendy, do we have to sleep in different bedrooms now? Since you like girls and I want to like girls... and if you find me a bit pretty and I find you beautiful?" Her question is filled with renewed sadness. "You say we are sisters, but how can I be sure dat I'll see you as just a sister? It would be dishonourable after everyfing you did for me..."
Wendy props up an extra pillow so she can rest her back while seated upright in Ziss’ bed.
“Let me hold you, Ziss. I’m not going to kick you out of my room while you are feeling so vulnerable. I’m also not going to take advantage of you.
“But most importantly, I’m not letting go. You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here for you as a sister tonight. Don’t worry about seeing me as something else, or whether you are attracted to a girl, or whether that girl is me or another.
“Don’t think a hundred moves ahead. Just put your head in my lap and accept that you’re innocent...”
* * *
Wendy’s encouraging words eventually lull the beautiful nomad to sleep. She watches Ziss, peaceful rhythmic breathing, her head on Wendy’s lap.
Minutes pass—enough time that Wendy’s certain Ziss won’t wake easily. Certain she can stop holding it in. She bursts into sobs, mostly over the horrific revelation… but she has a lot of her own s@$$ whirling in her overwhelmed brain, and she knows f#+&ing well that as much as Ziss needs someone to hold her, Wendy needs someone to hold.
“Hi, I’m Wendy Hatrix, the Darling Derby, leader of the Bay Watchmen. When I’m not out with my crew, drop kicking supervillains and wrestling sea monsters—“
Cut to battle scenes depicting DD and team kicking ass.
“—I like to skate on over to Bay City’s superhero-themed coffee house, grab myself a chai tea latte and catch up on the indie comic scene.”
She holds up the latest issue of a comic called Underburbs.
“Head on over to Cups & Capes, now in five locations—soon to be six. Hope to catch ya there.”
She sips her coffee while pretending to read.
VROOOM!!!
The vehicle soars through the air as it crests the hill, then bounces on its tires as it continues to careen down the street. To the bystanders that rush to get out of its way as it zooms past them, it at first appears to be a strange-looking ATV. But any that stop long enough to peer closer would see the humanoid woman stretched out in between the tires where her hands and feet should be. The exhaust pipe protruding from her back spews forth black smoke and her metallic body gleams in the sunlight as she speeds away from the Bay Watchmen who follow in hot pursuit!
The holo-computer in Wendy's new base is tapped into Bay City's surveillance systems, and it alerted her this morning to a robbery in progress at a high-end jewelry store. You arrived on the scene to find the hybrid villainess known as Chrome preparing to flee with her purloined merchandise! And so now, the chase is on!
The Darling Derby skates like crazy! She’s wearing a Cups & Capes logo babydoll-tee under overall-shorts with gear-shaped buttons.
Jet Sets help keep DD in the chase, but barely—she could use some team spirit!
”Hang on, chica!” Dervish says as he appears beside Derby and wraps her in his arms. He then teleports the two of them closer to Chrome! He starts to give chase again…but spots the girl he had to abandon on the pier a few days ago!
”Hey! Señorita! There you are!” he says as he totally gives up on the chase and jogs over to her.
The White Fox hovers quickly behind the criminal. She has been silent the whole day, still struggling with something personal, but that apparently doesn't keep her from chasing bad guys/girls/vehicles!
DD shouts words of encouragement: “You got this, Zisster!”
Arcanum takes to the skies, levitating above the street level and then zooming along in pursuit.