In a Galaxy Far, Far Away (Story)

In a Galaxy Far, Far Away...
January 23rd 2009, 19:45. Galaxy Girl Memorial High School.

Annette Barrington looked down at the woman behind the reception table outside the main sports hall and forced a smile. The years had not been too kind to Alice Whittaker. She had put on about thirty pounds since Annette had last seen her. The wedding ring was also new. Annette guessed Whittaker was the wrong surname now.

Frowning, Alice looked down her list and shook her head. "No, you've foxed me," she said.

"Annette," Annette supplied, "Annette Barrington."

Alice looked mildly shocked, which gave Annette a twinge of satisfaction. "Well, you certainly have changed." She summoned a smile and handed over a printed, card badge with what looked like a yearbook photo and her name on it. The photo showed a fat-faced girl with brown hair half-hiding her face. Annette doubted it would help anyone recognise her. She had been unpopular at the time the picture was taken, and a virtual recluse when the flab had gone. "Do go on in," Alice added. "There are quite a few already here."

Smiling vaguely, Annette walked toward the hall, pinning her badge to the short, black dress she had decided was suitable for the occasion. As it was, the safety pin was stiff and she was concentrating so hard on fixing it that she missed the silence that fell over the room until Ni prodded her. We seem to have made an impression. She looked up to see a couple of dozen faces looking back at her. She pricked her thumb on the pin and did not notice. Ni giggled and increased her white blood and stem cell output to repair the wound. Annette closed the pin, settled herself, and headed for a groaning table laden with food and drink. She could smell the alcohol in the punch, which was not a good sign. We really must work on our alcohol tolerance. There was also white wine, thankfully, being dispensed by a tall, older man Annette thought she recognised. "Mister Thompson?" she asked, genuinely smiling for the first time.

"That's right," he replied, handing her a flute filled with wine. "Annette, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I'm amazed you recognised me," she said, waving her vaguely at her badge.

"I've a good memory for bright students." She blushed at the compliment, something she had not done in a while. "Also, I remember you fairly well at the end of your time here. That's an old photograph. How did you escape the photographers after that?"

"Talent," she replied, grinning. "No, I was in counselling and persuaded them that my low self-image wasn't up to it."

"That's a talent. I remember, yes. Did your brother..?"

"No," she said, before he could finish, "he's still in the veterans' hospital."

"Ah. I'm sorry to hear that." Thompson had been her science teacher for the last two years of school. She had always liked him. "I always hoped you'd go on to college," he added, "but I don't suppose you had the chance."

"No... No, I've been working in the Wizard's Well at Gemini Park until recently." She grinned. "Now I'm kind of teaching."

Thompson gave an intrigued smile. "Oh? Which school? What subject?"

She laughed. "I work with the New Vigilants, teaching kids teamwork and staying alive in Paragon City."

The look of surprise was genuine, but mixed with a faint amount of realisation, as if a jigsaw had finally taken shape. "A couple of the big hero fans were going on about a local girl they knew from a shop who had turned out to be a super," he said. "I thought the girl in the picture looked familiar. So, were you just a late developer? Are your powers like your brother's?"

"No, I don't have superpowers, as such. I just learned how to fight and protect myself."

"That's... that's really amazing, Annette. I've always thought the people who go out there without special powers had to have more courage than the metas."

Grinning, Annette sipped her wine. "I think we're just certifiably insane," she replied. Other ex-students were filtering in, a few of them recognisable. "I guess I better mingle," she said. "Can I catch up later? I'd really like to."

"Of course, Annette, though I warn you, I'll be wanting an autograph. My daughter would kill me if I didn't ask."

Annette grinned. "It's yours," she said, and wandered off toward the other guests.

"Annie?" The voice stopped her in her tracks and she turned toward it. "Annette? Is that you?" The woman was tall and slim, well, lanky might have been a better description, with short, blonde hair and no real chest or hips.

"Mel?" Annette responded. "Wow, you got even taller."

Mel, Melanie Brewer, to be correct, grinned. "Side effect of the mutation," she explained. "Humans have their brain all the way up here to help with heat loss, and my brain has a lot of heat to lose." Mel had been 'diagnosed' as a mutant after constant headaches and a long period of treatment for ADD. Her brain operated about five times as fast as a normal human. It had used to be a problem, making it hard to communicate and leading to boredom. Annette, used to a brother who would absent-mindedly crush things if he was not careful, had been one of the few people she could talk to.

"So, what are you doing now?" Annette asked. They had lost touch when Annette had left school. "I seem to remember something about Portal Corp."

"Yup, got a working scholarship with them. Did my degree and doctorate in two years. Working in R&D now." Her grin intensified. "No need to ask what you've been doing. Between the blog and the reports back on some of the recon missions"

Annette found herself blushing again. "You read the blog?"

"Of course. Post more. Your fans want to know what you're up to." She paused, the grin falling away from her face. "I was sorry to hear about your manager."

"So was I," Annette said solemnly, "but let's not get into that tonight, huh? Tell me what's been happening. Start with graduation and end when you walked in here."

"Thank heavens for an eidetic memory," Mel giggled.

They had got as far as Mel's PhD on some form of novel, room-temperature superconductor, and had dragged Mr Thompson into the conversation, when the room fell silent again. Annette looked up to see a tall, buxom brunette walking in on the arm of a gorilla with a crewcut. It was half past nine and Jilly Hewitt was making her entrance, fashionably late. The gorilla was Derek Barlow, who preferred to be called Dirk. He had played offense for the football team and was now making his name in college football. He was expected to go pro. She had, of course, been head cheerleader, and was now also headed for the pro circuit. They had been Homecoming King and Queen, and Annette had hated them.

"Her boobs look bigger," Mel commented.

Annette giggled, the sound rather loud in the suddenly quiet room. Implants, Ni said, there's more silicon in there than BODICIA's core. I think Mrs R is a bit beyond silicon, Annette countered. Still, Jilly's pneumatic chest, barely contained in a deeply V-cut dress, barely moved as she walked. "Oh damn," Annette muttered, "she heard me." Jilly and Dirk were headed straight for them.

"Mel!" Jilly shrieked. "Still a beanpole. Who's your little friend? Is that Annette Barrington?"

Annette had been insulted by experts and taught personal value by Dinah Ewers. She stood up, straightening her back and pushing her chest forward. She was gratified that this made her an inch taller than Jilly, and that it made Dirk's eyes bug out a little. "Yep, that's me. Can't forget you, Jilly." No matter how much you might like to? Annette did her best to avoid smirking by smiling instead.

"Well," Jilly said, "there's a price to fame." There were many times that Annette thanked Dinah for her training, and now, as she read the signs of annoyance in Jilly's body language, was one of those times.

"Oh, Annette knows all about the price of fame," Mr Thompson said. "Care for a drink, Miss Hewitt?"

"You're famous?" Dirk grunted.

"Mostly," Mel said, "for fighting the Rikti army, but she's saved the world once, that I know of."

Somehow, it was a little annoying to be put in the position of one-upping a cheerleader. At least it wasn't her doing the boasting. Let me out, I'll boast her into a puddle on the floor. "I do my bit," she said. "Family tradition."

"Yes," Jilly rallied, "well I'll let you mutants get on with your chatter. Must circulate. Later. Come, Dirk." She marched away, toward a crowd of bubbly ex-cheerleaders, Dirk following after like a stray puppy. Mel's laughter followed them. Even Mr Thompson was chuckling. The victory felt rather hollow to Annette, but she joined in, half-heartedly.

The next hour passed pleasantly enough, though Annette kept catching snippets of conversation and rapidly hidden looks from Jilly's cronies. At least the conversation with Mel, and Mr Thompson, and various others who dropped past from time to time, was friendly and, thankfully, did not involve much about her activities in the War Zone. Mel insisted on hearing about her adventures in other dimensions, but Annette was fine talking about that, and regaled them with stories about worlds where Hydra creatures ruled, or fighting Mother Mayhem in her psychotic asylum.

Then it happened. Mel's eyes saw the ball of flame heading right for her, and her brain had calculated she had no chance of getting out of its way before it was half-way across the hall. Luckily for her, Annette's reflexes were as fast as her brain. Hitting the ground hurt, but a lot less than the fire would have. Mel looked up to see that the fireball had passed just under Annette's outstretched arm.

The room went quiet aside from a scream, and into this space, a boy's voice inserted itself. "Hello, Galaxy High! Didya miss me?"

The owner of the voice swaggered into the hall accompanied by half a dozen T-shirt wearing teenagers, several of them sporting icy or flaming fists. Outcasts, mutants with a chip on their shoulders. Their leader was a red-headed Scorcher Annette recognised with a sense of dread: Michael Turlow. He had left school a year early due to 'peer pressure,' which was to say he thought it was more fun running with street gangs.

"Well," Michael said, grinning as he looked around the silent hall, "I gotta say I was hoping for a noisier welcome. Y'know, a few cheers, a hearty hello? No. No one wants to say 'hi?' I mean, I wasn't invited, but I figure that was just an oversight."

His gaze lit upon Jilly and Dirk, and his grin broadened. "Jilly! We're gonna catch up later, after I get through with Dorky-boy that is." He casually tossed a fireball at Dirk's feet. The big man jumped back with surprising speed, and the blast succeeded in scorching the floor. "No fair, Dorky, I'll get one of my boys to freeze you to the spot for the next one. Hey there, Mister Thompson! Catch!" He drew back his arm once more...

"Micky, Micky, Micky..." Annette wandered out of the crowd, shaking her head. "Micky Turlow, what alley cat dragged you out of Atlas to come down here and cause trouble?" Michael blinked, not believing that anyone would stand up to him. "I mean," Annette continued, slowly closing the distance between them, "here we are having a nice evening for actual graduates ofthis august institution, and you have come in with your goons and stir things up. What's with that? You got issues, Micky? Is that it? I know a couple of good psychiatrists."

"Annie Barrington? That you?" Michael responded, his confidence returning as he identified his opponent. "Hey, you grew up pretty good! Maybe we'll take you to party with as well as Jilly."

Annette grinned a malicious grin. "You wouldn't know what t'do with me, kid. I party with experts. Now take your gang of rejects from the smart gangs and go, before someone gets hurt."

Michael was nothing if not predictable. "Oh, someone's going to get hurt..." His hand drew back again, flame filling it.

"I didn't mean me," Annette said. Her left fist slammed into his chest, blasting the air from his lungs. Then the heel of her right hand smashed upward into his chin, tossing him up and back. He crashed into the ground gasping for breath. There were a series of thumping noises, half-covered by Michael's heaving breaths.

"Boys," the Outcast gasped, "get her!" Only then did he actually look, discovering that his 'boys' had been replaced by a single, blonde woman who was brushing dust off her outfit.

"Hi, Lin," Annette said, "glad you could make it."

"Hey, Babe," Linda Lee replied. "I was worried I'd missed all the fun, but I see I got here for the floor show." A howl of protest from one end of the hall drew everyone's attention to the rock-clad Outcast hanging from one of the basketball hoops. "Oops," Linda muttered, "may have kicked him a bit hard."

"We'll get to him in a minute, love." Annette grinned down at Michael. "Hello, Micky, do you want to walk out, or should we get a stretcher?"

"Y-you're a hero?" Michael stammered.

"Hell no," Annette replied, the grin becoming a smirk, "I'm more of a warrior." She stabbed a finger at Linda, who was walking up behind him. "She's the hero, and believe me, if you're opting for the stretcher, she's the one you want t'fight."

Michael Turlow bolted. His scrabbling feet made amusing swishing noises on the smooth floor and then he finally overcame inertia enough to run forward. Right into Linda's roundhouse kick.

"Could've been worse," Annette commented to Michael's unconscious body. "I'd have kicked you in the chest, and we're both wearing heels."

Someone started clapping. Others quickly joined in and soon the two heroes were surrounded by people thanking them. Jilly's walking out in a huff, Ni told Annette. Her fan club defected.

Later, with the crowd thinning and the Outcasts carted off in a PPD containment van, Annette sat quietly at the back of the hall with Linda, Mel, and Mr Thompson, listening to her lover chat with her old friend and her teacher. Mr Thompson, it turned out, was a big Liberty Girl fan. He claimed he was a sucker for patriotic blondes, but Ni was fairly certain he had fallen for her legs. Discovering Linda had a girlfriend had not phased him in the slightest. In fact, what Annette had feared most, that her private life would unsettle her friends, had been shrugged aside by Mel. "Hell, I'm straight and I'd date either of you."

"I think," Mr Thompson said, "that the school can be proud of this year's graduates. Even if only for Annette and Mel."

"Hell yeah!" Linda agreed. "Portal Corp researcher and a girl that's saving the world. Can't get better than that."

Annette chuckled. "I'm a cliche said.

"Huh?" Linda said.

"Fat kid grows up into hero and model, and then becomes the belle of the school reunion ball. Molly Ringwald should play me in the movie."

"Isn't she getting a bit old to play nineteen?" Mel supplied.

Annette dismissed the objection with a wave of her hand. "Amazing what you can do with make-up."

"But she's ginger?" Linda stated, horrified.

"Jennifer Garner?" Annette suggested.

"She has that puffy lips thing," Mr Thompson said, shaking his head.

"You can play yourself," Linda stated in a manner that suggested argument was futile. "And I'll play me, because I'm not letting you kiss anyone more attractive than me."

"Would someone get me some wine to go with the cheese," Annette replied, grinning. They laughed, then they talked. And finally, they helped Mr Thompson lock up.

Edit to fix stupid text transposition error.

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Disclaimer: The above may be humerous, or at least may be an attempt at humour. Try reading it that way.
Posts are OOC unless noted to be IC, or in an IC thread.

Another great piece!

I thought it was all going too easily for a start...

Loved the reactions to Annette and Ni's comments especially. Surprisingly easy to relate to.

I'm no good at critiquing, so I'll just say I thoroughly enjoyed it

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@Crius

Bassai, Canadian Kid, Alruna, Kahi

Mistress Rad, Culpeo, Ms. Demeanor, Celsius

If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. Let's go to work.

Likewise. Must get back in the writing groove myself.

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