Jesalyn Beall looked at herself in the full-length mirror and frowned. "Other heroes," she sighed, "get secret identities." Given the young woman's remarkable stature (a rather athletically muscled 8'3") -- and notable (charcoal grey) skin coloration -- the idea of a secret identity was simply ludicrous.
"Not me," her ex-college-roomie chimed in cheerfully. The Scarlet Jezabel -- no point in thinking of herself as Jesalyn anymore -- looked over her shoulder at the irritatingly perky girl reclining in her couch.
"You're not a hero, Candy."
Candace Barre frowned at her friend. "I asked you not to call me that."
"How can you hate your name so much?" Jezabel lowered her mirrored shades to look at Candace.
"Oh, my GAWD, like you wouldn't if your sicko parents had named YOU 'Candy Barre.'"
"I'm sure they weren't thinking about that at the time," Jezabel muttered, lost in dark thoughts about her own mother, and that woman's part in her 'heroic' origin.
"Oh," Candace said with a bitter smile, "they TOTALLY were." She stood up and fished in her purse.
That thing's barely big enough for an ID card. God, save me from high fashion. Sure enough, Candace pulled out a card that made Jezabel's blood run cold.
"You didn't."
Candace grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Yup! Registered this morning!"
Jezabel clapped a hand to her face, not wanting to look at Candace's superhero registration card but not able to look away. "Candace... you don't have any powers."
"I can fight," the indomitably chipper girl responded.
"Candace, you have a BROWN BELT," Jezabel sighed, trying to knock some reality into her friend's skull without using her overly-potent fists.
"Catscratch," Candace said.
"Who-what?"
"Catscratch," she said again. "You know like that song by Noodgie?"
There was something, Jezabel thought with a mental growl, incurably wrong with someone who referred to Ted Nugent as 'Noodgie'. "Catscratch," she echoed, looking her friend in the eye. "Why the hell would you go with Catscratch? I mean, if maybe you were some sort of mutant half-cat or werecat or something--"
"I got a tail."
"You bought it at an anime convention!"
"I made it work, though. Ran myoelectric fiber through it and put all kinds of neurosensors in the base so it moves like it's real."
"Wonderful. You shall no doubt overwhelm the Circle of Thorns with your indefatigable cuteness."
Candace, or Catscratch, stuck her tongue out. "Just you wait," she said. "We're gonna show those jerks what for!"
Jezabel flinched, and inadvertantly crumpled the steel mug in her hand, driving stone-hard fingers through it and rendering it useless. "WE?!"
"I'm gonna be your sidekick!"
Jezabel felt the sort of cold, writhing terror usually reserved for encounters with the Great Old Ones in a Lovecraft novel -- or her own encounters with the Circle of Thorns. "Did you ever think of asking me about this?"
"Jez, you're my best friend!"
"Candace--"
"CATSCRATCH!"
Jezabel sighed. "Catscratch, fine, whatever. Did it ever occur to you that there might be a reason I up and disappeared when this --" she gestured at her oversized, overpowered body, "-- happened to me?"
Candace looked confused -- a look she had a real mastery of, Jezabel thought. "I thought it was 'cause you were afraid they'd think you were a freak an' all."
"Oh, great, THANKS, Can-- Catscratch, that makes me feel so much better."
"I don't think you're a freak."
"No, you seem to think that I'm a role-model. Catscratch, I'm what the heroes here in Paragon call a Tanker. My job is to charge headlong into a group of bad guys and deal as much damage as possible while I get my butt kicked." She rubbed the back of her head, which had a fair lump on it caused earlier that day by an overenthusiastic Troll with a length of 2x4. "I cannot emphasize this enough: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME."
Catscratch's confused look was swept away by a look of concern. Damn it, it was touching, Jezabel thought, and she realized that perhaps she had fled her friends because she was afraid of their reaction to her new body. It also made her realize that, while she had a couple of heroic friends, she really needed a friend from before her transformation just to keep her sane.
"I moved here," Jezabel said, "to get away from people who could be hurt or even killed if some thug found me at home and knocked me through a wall or something."
She crossed her powerful arms over her chest and glared down at her friend -- it was difficult, Catscratch was giving her best Puppy-Dog-Eyes expression -- and continued. "A plan which you've ruined by repeatedly coming to visit me here!"
Catscratch flinched back in the couch, looking all too much like a harmless little kitten -- which only steeled Jezabel's resolve to break her of this dangerous delusion that she could be anyone's sidekick and not get severely hurt.
As Jezabel tossed Catscratch out of her apartment and bolted the door behind her, the would-be heroine stuck her tongue out at the reinforced steel door. "Fine," she said. "We'll do it the hard way. Tailing you on patrol will give me some good practice anyway."
Jesalyn Beall looked at herself in the full-length mirror and frowned. "Other heroes," she sighed, "get secret identities." Given the young woman's remarkable stature (a rather athletically muscled 8'3") -- and notable (charcoal grey) skin coloration -- the idea of a secret identity was simply ludicrous.
"Not me," her ex-college-roomie chimed in cheerfully. The Scarlet Jezabel -- no point in thinking of herself as Jesalyn anymore -- looked over her shoulder at the irritatingly perky girl reclining in her couch.
"You're not a hero, Candy."
Candace Barre frowned at her friend. "I asked you not to call me that."
"How can you hate your name so much?" Jezabel lowered her mirrored shades to look at Candace.
"Oh, my GAWD, like you wouldn't if your sicko parents had named YOU 'Candy Barre.'"
"I'm sure they weren't thinking about that at the time," Jezabel muttered, lost in dark thoughts about her own mother, and that woman's part in her 'heroic' origin.
"Oh," Candace said with a bitter smile, "they TOTALLY were." She stood up and fished in her purse.
That thing's barely big enough for an ID card. God, save me from high fashion. Sure enough, Candace pulled out a card that made Jezabel's blood run cold.
"You didn't."
Candace grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Yup! Registered this morning!"
Jezabel clapped a hand to her face, not wanting to look at Candace's superhero registration card but not able to look away. "Candace... you don't have any powers."
"I can fight," the indomitably chipper girl responded.
"Candace, you have a BROWN BELT," Jezabel sighed, trying to knock some reality into her friend's skull without using her overly-potent fists.
"Catscratch," Candace said.
"Who-what?"
"Catscratch," she said again. "You know like that song by Noodgie?"
There was something, Jezabel thought with a mental growl, incurably wrong with someone who referred to Ted Nugent as 'Noodgie'. "Catscratch," she echoed, looking her friend in the eye. "Why the hell would you go with Catscratch? I mean, if maybe you were some sort of mutant half-cat or werecat or something--"
"I got a tail."
"You bought it at an anime convention!"
"I made it work, though. Ran myoelectric fiber through it and put all kinds of neurosensors in the base so it moves like it's real."
"Wonderful. You shall no doubt overwhelm the Circle of Thorns with your indefatigable cuteness."
Candace, or Catscratch, stuck her tongue out. "Just you wait," she said. "We're gonna show those jerks what for!"
Jezabel flinched, and inadvertantly crumpled the steel mug in her hand, driving stone-hard fingers through it and rendering it useless. "WE?!"
"I'm gonna be your sidekick!"
Jezabel felt the sort of cold, writhing terror usually reserved for encounters with the Great Old Ones in a Lovecraft novel -- or her own encounters with the Circle of Thorns. "Did you ever think of asking me about this?"
"Jez, you're my best friend!"
"Candace--"
"CATSCRATCH!"
Jezabel sighed. "Catscratch, fine, whatever. Did it ever occur to you that there might be a reason I up and disappeared when this --" she gestured at her oversized, overpowered body, "-- happened to me?"
Candace looked confused -- a look she had a real mastery of, Jezabel thought. "I thought it was 'cause you were afraid they'd think you were a freak an' all."
"Oh, great, THANKS, Can-- Catscratch, that makes me feel so much better."
"I don't think you're a freak."
"No, you seem to think that I'm a role-model. Catscratch, I'm what the heroes here in Paragon call a Tanker. My job is to charge headlong into a group of bad guys and deal as much damage as possible while I get my butt kicked." She rubbed the back of her head, which had a fair lump on it caused earlier that day by an overenthusiastic Troll with a length of 2x4. "I cannot emphasize this enough: DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME."
Catscratch's confused look was swept away by a look of concern. Damn it, it was touching, Jezabel thought, and she realized that perhaps she had fled her friends because she was afraid of their reaction to her new body. It also made her realize that, while she had a couple of heroic friends, she really needed a friend from before her transformation just to keep her sane.
"I moved here," Jezabel said, "to get away from people who could be hurt or even killed if some thug found me at home and knocked me through a wall or something."
She crossed her powerful arms over her chest and glared down at her friend -- it was difficult, Catscratch was giving her best Puppy-Dog-Eyes expression -- and continued. "A plan which you've ruined by repeatedly coming to visit me here!"
Catscratch flinched back in the couch, looking all too much like a harmless little kitten -- which only steeled Jezabel's resolve to break her of this dangerous delusion that she could be anyone's sidekick and not get severely hurt.
As Jezabel tossed Catscratch out of her apartment and bolted the door behind her, the would-be heroine stuck her tongue out at the reinforced steel door. "Fine," she said. "We'll do it the hard way. Tailing you on patrol will give me some good practice anyway."
--==FIN==--
...for now...