Rathi pulled the packing tape over the seam of the cardboard box with a tearing sound as the glue protested being unrolled from the spool. She flicked her wrist and the serrated teeth of the tape gun bit through the ribbon and freed it, then she smoothed it down flush with the side of the box. Just a few more things to pack, then she'd be ready to go, Rathi thought to herself and reached behind her to give her ponytail a tug, tightening it back down. Stray hairs hung in her face and she looked a little bedraggled, but happy. Along the wall near the door a half dozen cardboard U-Haul moving boxes had been stacked. They mostly contained clothes, street casual stuff and her costumes for her dancing work at Mani's, flashy sequins and silks stacked on top of the more alternative attire with its vinyl and latex. One box held a growing collection of school books: psychology, sociology mostly. Her stereo sat unpacked, belting out deep base dance rhythms while she danced about the small apartment in a pair of jeans, a half tee and sandals.
Rathi had been very surprised when Chastity as offered her a flat above SHE's facilities. She had not expected that type of generosity and had been taken aback by it. She also had been flabbergasted by how big the SHE headquarters were as Chastity had led her about the immense complex. Huge libraries, tech labs, occult facilities, transporters, fabrication stations, the sum total was daunting. She'd tried to not look like what she felt she was, a clueless young woman out of her league. Chas had spoken in her clipped British accent, one that Rathi had only heard in reruns of Monty Phython's Flying Circus and never heard spoken aloud by a real person. It made the whole thing all the more surreal, like she'd stepped onto some gigantic James Bond movie set.
Standing up, Rathi casually reached down and hefted the box with grunt. She knew she could have just moved it with her powers, but telekinesis still gave her massive headaches. Besides, never use powers for what you can do with muscle. she'd long ago decided. She'd seen people at GIFT's academy who used their abilities for every mundane little thing and while she supposed there wasn't anything wrong with teleporting a diet Coke from the fridge or floating up three stories to avoid the stairway, something about it irked her. Rathi noticed how people watched her and the other mutants like her. Their awe always mixed with a portion of fear and dash or two of envy. Of course on the other side of the equation, she'd seen more than her share of arrogance at GIFT academy. ESPers felt often felt the were better than their mundane fellows and the whole hero thing was just a nice face on that whole mind set. Don't worry, we're here to keep you safe, she thought with a mirthless smile on her lips. Only they wouldn't be, and Rathi knew it. For each crime the heroes stopped, ten succeeded. For every flashy save that made the news, there were a lot of sad brutal stories that would never even get a sound byte or a flash of hero-white teeth for the cameras.
The thought made her stop in the middle of what she was doing. She looked across the flat to the kitchenette. There on the counter sat Mrs. Madivoch casserole dish. Ever since she'd cleared out Rosewood of the Skulls, her neighbors had done all sorts of little things to show their appreciation. You wouldn't see a common stripper getting that type of warm reception, Rathi mused. Still, it touched her. She'd done it because this was her home. And now she was leaving. What would happen? They'd try to move back in of course. Bastards like that always crept in, they were like roaches. The thought of Mrs. Madivoch having to make her way through a drug paraphernalia strewn hallway again made Rathi sick to her stomach. She might have escaped King's Row, but Mrs. Madivoch and all her other neighbors hadn't. Rathi crossed to the bowl and picked the Pyrex dish up in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth glass. Then she turned to the door, opened it and stepped out into the hall, making for Mrs. Madivoch's apartment.
The change that had undergone Rosewood had been extraordinary, wrought mostly by the tenants themselves. Absentee didn't really cover the level of neglect that its owners had shown the complex. While the Skulls had reigned here, no self respecting tradesman would go near the place anyway. Wiring had been exposed, plaster cracked, pipes leaking and heat non-existent. In contrast, the hallway Rathi stepped into was clean and bright. Fresh orange paint covered the walls in warmth. The floor had been stripped down the stained baseboards and the old vomit soaked carpets torn up and discarded. A pair of youths from room 705, down the hall from her place, looked up from their sanding and smiled at Rathi as she passed. They watched her walk appreciatively, eyes fixed on the round curves of her backside, but didn't cat call or make lewd remarks. And when she turned to smile at them, they blushed happily and returned to working the floor. It was like this on every level of the building. The tenants freed of the fear had begun to change Rosewood into what it should have been in the first place, a home. Rathi skipped down the steps to the sixth floor and turned down the hall to 619, Mrs. Madivoch's room. She rapped on the door, the dish dangling in her free hand's fingers.
The face that opened the door looked like a wizened old apple, but had undergone a change similar to what had been working on the whole building. The old woman's visage split in a snaggled-tooth grin at the sight of Rathi and she opened to door wide. Several cats curled around her ankles, but the smell of cat urine had gone, replaced with a fresh clean scent of cleanser and potpourri. Mrs. Madivoch beckoned her in, hobbling in to her kitchen unit which had been repainted canary yellow. The worn taps had been serviced, stopping all the leaks. The stove scrubbed till it gleamed like it had when it had been first installed twenty years previous. The old woman bustled about the room, setting a kettle on and smiling through the black stubble that poked out around her wrinkled mouth. She waved a gnarled hand to the table and Rathi pulled out one of the rickety stools and sat down.
So you'll be leaving soon, Mrs. Madivoch said more than asked as she took a pair of tea cups from one of the cupboards, along with a pair of saucers. She laid these on the table and then looked around, squinting through a her thick spectacles for the sugar bowl, which looked like a fat tabby cat and was perched next to a battered old microwave. She carried it to the table and set it down as well and then slumped into a high backed chair slowly, her spine paining her. Rathi nodded, answering her remark. Good, good. Place like this is no place for a smart girl like you, Rathi. You're right to get out of here. Mrs. Madivoch reached across the table and took Rathi's smooth bronze fingers in her own pale hoary ones. Rathi looked at the crone's hand, a feeling of guilt twisting in her gut. So, Mrs. Madivoch continued, did you like the casserole? The old woman nodded toward the empty dish.
It was delicious, Mrs. Madivoch- Rathi began, but the old woman cackled cutting her off.
You call me Rose, dear, no need to be all proper, the old woman said and winked. On the stove the kettle began to whistle shrilly. Rathi rose and crossed to it, turning the dial to kill the flame and then grabbed an old tattered oven mit from the wall and carried the hot kettle over to the table. The water steamed, sending wafts of vapor up to the ceiling as she poured each glass almost full. Mrs. Madivoch reached across the table and taking a large jar that sat in the center by the lid, she turned it and popped it open. Lemon Zinger? She asked holding the jar with it's assorted teabags out to the young woman. Rathi reached in and plucked a teabag out.
What this one? she asked and held it out to the old woman to sniff. Mrs. Madivoch took a long drought of air and then sighed with a smile, looking like a blissful dwarf.
Bengal Spice, she croaked happily, one of my favorites. Try it, try it. The old woman waved her hand motioning for Rathi to drop her teabag into the cup before her. Then she fished out a bag for herself and dropped it into her own steaming cup.
Rose? Rathi said, with a perplexed look as the old woman screwed the lid of the jar back on tight and returned it to the centerpiece, Why do you mix them all together like that? Wouldn't be easier to pick the one you want if you kept them separate? The old woman grinned, showing her black and yellow teeth and laughed.
Where would be the surprise in that, girl? she asked, chuckling with a thick phlegmy sound. The old woman coughed thickly and then sat back still grinning. Rathi nodded, watching her with concern, but Mrs. Madivoch just waved her away. Drink your tea, dear. It should have steeped up by now. The old woman lifted her own cup to her lips and sipped at it with a soft slurping sound. Rathi couldn't suppress a smile as she watched her. Finally, Mrs. Madivoch lowered her glass and gave a little sigh of pleasure. Mint Magic. she said contentedly.
Rathi nodded, looking into her own cup distractedly as the scent of cloves and ginger spirals out of it, and the old woman clucked her tongue. Now, what's that look for, she said with an accusatory tone, You look like you're going off to the salt mines. Mrs. Madivoch chuckled. Out with it, girl!
What's going to happen to you... to this place, when I'm gone, Rose? Rathi asked, lifting her eyes to to old woman's rheumy ones. Mrs. Madivoch looked back for a long moment and then sighed. She rubbed her bulbous nose and then looked Rathi in the face again.
Eldrath Jonasen, that's not your problem, she said sternly. You done enough here already, more than anyone's done for this place in years. You don't owe none of us nothin'. I know you're different, you got them powers and you can do a lot of good, but you remember, Rathi, you're just one person, honey. You ain't got to save the world. You be happy. We'll get by, you'll see. An I expect you to be back here on weekends for pie. Rathi laughed, and wiped her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks and Mrs. Madivoch pushed herself out of her chair and crossed over to her enveloping her in a squishy armed hug. Her bristlely lips kissed Rathi's cheek. You're a good girl, Rathi. Now finish your tea and maybe we can have a few cookies before you have to go. Rathi sniffed and nodded her head.
Rathi pulled the packing tape over the seam of the cardboard box with a tearing sound as the glue protested being unrolled from the spool. She flicked her wrist and the serrated teeth of the tape gun bit through the ribbon and freed it, then she smoothed it down flush with the side of the box. Just a few more things to pack, then she'd be ready to go, Rathi thought to herself and reached behind her to give her ponytail a tug, tightening it back down. Stray hairs hung in her face and she looked a little bedraggled, but happy. Along the wall near the door a half dozen cardboard U-Haul moving boxes had been stacked. They mostly contained clothes, street casual stuff and her costumes for her dancing work at Mani's, flashy sequins and silks stacked on top of the more alternative attire with its vinyl and latex. One box held a growing collection of school books: psychology, sociology mostly. Her stereo sat unpacked, belting out deep base dance rhythms while she danced about the small apartment in a pair of jeans, a half tee and sandals.
Rathi had been very surprised when Chastity as offered her a flat above SHE's facilities. She had not expected that type of generosity and had been taken aback by it. She also had been flabbergasted by how big the SHE headquarters were as Chastity had led her about the immense complex. Huge libraries, tech labs, occult facilities, transporters, fabrication stations, the sum total was daunting. She'd tried to not look like what she felt she was, a clueless young woman out of her league. Chas had spoken in her clipped British accent, one that Rathi had only heard in reruns of Monty Phython's Flying Circus and never heard spoken aloud by a real person. It made the whole thing all the more surreal, like she'd stepped onto some gigantic James Bond movie set.
Standing up, Rathi casually reached down and hefted the box with grunt. She knew she could have just moved it with her powers, but telekinesis still gave her massive headaches. Besides, never use powers for what you can do with muscle. she'd long ago decided. She'd seen people at GIFT's academy who used their abilities for every mundane little thing and while she supposed there wasn't anything wrong with teleporting a diet Coke from the fridge or floating up three stories to avoid the stairway, something about it irked her. Rathi noticed how people watched her and the other mutants like her. Their awe always mixed with a portion of fear and dash or two of envy. Of course on the other side of the equation, she'd seen more than her share of arrogance at GIFT academy. ESPers felt often felt the were better than their mundane fellows and the whole hero thing was just a nice face on that whole mind set. Don't worry, we're here to keep you safe, she thought with a mirthless smile on her lips. Only they wouldn't be, and Rathi knew it. For each crime the heroes stopped, ten succeeded. For every flashy save that made the news, there were a lot of sad brutal stories that would never even get a sound byte or a flash of hero-white teeth for the cameras.
The thought made her stop in the middle of what she was doing. She looked across the flat to the kitchenette. There on the counter sat Mrs. Madivoch casserole dish. Ever since she'd cleared out Rosewood of the Skulls, her neighbors had done all sorts of little things to show their appreciation. You wouldn't see a common stripper getting that type of warm reception, Rathi mused. Still, it touched her. She'd done it because this was her home. And now she was leaving. What would happen? They'd try to move back in of course. Bastards like that always crept in, they were like roaches. The thought of Mrs. Madivoch having to make her way through a drug paraphernalia strewn hallway again made Rathi sick to her stomach. She might have escaped King's Row, but Mrs. Madivoch and all her other neighbors hadn't. Rathi crossed to the bowl and picked the Pyrex dish up in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth glass. Then she turned to the door, opened it and stepped out into the hall, making for Mrs. Madivoch's apartment.
The change that had undergone Rosewood had been extraordinary, wrought mostly by the tenants themselves. Absentee didn't really cover the level of neglect that its owners had shown the complex. While the Skulls had reigned here, no self respecting tradesman would go near the place anyway. Wiring had been exposed, plaster cracked, pipes leaking and heat non-existent. In contrast, the hallway Rathi stepped into was clean and bright. Fresh orange paint covered the walls in warmth. The floor had been stripped down the stained baseboards and the old vomit soaked carpets torn up and discarded. A pair of youths from room 705, down the hall from her place, looked up from their sanding and smiled at Rathi as she passed. They watched her walk appreciatively, eyes fixed on the round curves of her backside, but didn't cat call or make lewd remarks. And when she turned to smile at them, they blushed happily and returned to working the floor. It was like this on every level of the building. The tenants freed of the fear had begun to change Rosewood into what it should have been in the first place, a home. Rathi skipped down the steps to the sixth floor and turned down the hall to 619, Mrs. Madivoch's room. She rapped on the door, the dish dangling in her free hand's fingers.
The face that opened the door looked like a wizened old apple, but had undergone a change similar to what had been working on the whole building. The old woman's visage split in a snaggled-tooth grin at the sight of Rathi and she opened to door wide. Several cats curled around her ankles, but the smell of cat urine had gone, replaced with a fresh clean scent of cleanser and potpourri. Mrs. Madivoch beckoned her in, hobbling in to her kitchen unit which had been repainted canary yellow. The worn taps had been serviced, stopping all the leaks. The stove scrubbed till it gleamed like it had when it had been first installed twenty years previous. The old woman bustled about the room, setting a kettle on and smiling through the black stubble that poked out around her wrinkled mouth. She waved a gnarled hand to the table and Rathi pulled out one of the rickety stools and sat down.
So you'll be leaving soon, Mrs. Madivoch said more than asked as she took a pair of tea cups from one of the cupboards, along with a pair of saucers. She laid these on the table and then looked around, squinting through a her thick spectacles for the sugar bowl, which looked like a fat tabby cat and was perched next to a battered old microwave. She carried it to the table and set it down as well and then slumped into a high backed chair slowly, her spine paining her. Rathi nodded, answering her remark. Good, good. Place like this is no place for a smart girl like you, Rathi. You're right to get out of here. Mrs. Madivoch reached across the table and took Rathi's smooth bronze fingers in her own pale hoary ones. Rathi looked at the crone's hand, a feeling of guilt twisting in her gut. So, Mrs. Madivoch continued, did you like the casserole? The old woman nodded toward the empty dish.
It was delicious, Mrs. Madivoch- Rathi began, but the old woman cackled cutting her off.
You call me Rose, dear, no need to be all proper, the old woman said and winked. On the stove the kettle began to whistle shrilly. Rathi rose and crossed to it, turning the dial to kill the flame and then grabbed an old tattered oven mit from the wall and carried the hot kettle over to the table. The water steamed, sending wafts of vapor up to the ceiling as she poured each glass almost full. Mrs. Madivoch reached across the table and taking a large jar that sat in the center by the lid, she turned it and popped it open. Lemon Zinger? She asked holding the jar with it's assorted teabags out to the young woman. Rathi reached in and plucked a teabag out.
What this one? she asked and held it out to the old woman to sniff. Mrs. Madivoch took a long drought of air and then sighed with a smile, looking like a blissful dwarf.
Bengal Spice, she croaked happily, one of my favorites. Try it, try it. The old woman waved her hand motioning for Rathi to drop her teabag into the cup before her. Then she fished out a bag for herself and dropped it into her own steaming cup.
Rose? Rathi said, with a perplexed look as the old woman screwed the lid of the jar back on tight and returned it to the centerpiece, Why do you mix them all together like that? Wouldn't be easier to pick the one you want if you kept them separate? The old woman grinned, showing her black and yellow teeth and laughed.
Where would be the surprise in that, girl? she asked, chuckling with a thick phlegmy sound. The old woman coughed thickly and then sat back still grinning. Rathi nodded, watching her with concern, but Mrs. Madivoch just waved her away. Drink your tea, dear. It should have steeped up by now. The old woman lifted her own cup to her lips and sipped at it with a soft slurping sound. Rathi couldn't suppress a smile as she watched her. Finally, Mrs. Madivoch lowered her glass and gave a little sigh of pleasure. Mint Magic. she said contentedly.
Rathi nodded, looking into her own cup distractedly as the scent of cloves and ginger spirals out of it, and the old woman clucked her tongue. Now, what's that look for, she said with an accusatory tone, You look like you're going off to the salt mines. Mrs. Madivoch chuckled. Out with it, girl!
What's going to happen to you... to this place, when I'm gone, Rose? Rathi asked, lifting her eyes to to old woman's rheumy ones. Mrs. Madivoch looked back for a long moment and then sighed. She rubbed her bulbous nose and then looked Rathi in the face again.
Eldrath Jonasen, that's not your problem, she said sternly. You done enough here already, more than anyone's done for this place in years. You don't owe none of us nothin'. I know you're different, you got them powers and you can do a lot of good, but you remember, Rathi, you're just one person, honey. You ain't got to save the world. You be happy. We'll get by, you'll see. An I expect you to be back here on weekends for pie. Rathi laughed, and wiped her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks and Mrs. Madivoch pushed herself out of her chair and crossed over to her enveloping her in a squishy armed hug. Her bristlely lips kissed Rathi's cheek. You're a good girl, Rathi. Now finish your tea and maybe we can have a few cookies before you have to go. Rathi sniffed and nodded her head.
I'd like that, she said.