B2 3-4 - That's Gotta Change and Christmas Dinner

3- That's Gotta Change

Bianca looked happy, but Rocko was pissed.

Somehow, my new outfit had even more frills on the skirts than the previous one. The blue had almost disappeared, replaced by a pastel purple, and in contrast to Magical Girl Stella-Lunar’s Star Form battle dress, it seemed even less armored than my old outfit. Not that armor mattered; I had superhero damage to mitigate injuries.

The two big changes, however, were the tiara and the golden filigree. The first sat just below the hard-light dummy’s hairline, pushing it up and out of its face. It featured a tall crest in the center, prominently displaying the comedy and tragedy masks and a row of stars descending on each side. I wasn’t sure why Magical Girls all needed stars on everything, but I wasn’t complaining. The dress’s bodice was off-white now, with golden patterning around my chest and down the tights. I’d chosen to replace the thigh-highs with proper hose, and apparently, that came with gold. So did the domino mask.

I’d made a few other minor changes to the dress. The poofy shoulders had to go. Rocko had replaced them with scarlet off-the-shoulder mini-sleeves, which, shockingly, looked terrific. And I’d replaced the sapphire and bow with a purple amethyst, which sat in the gold filigree’s center.

“Dammit, DuPont. I said like Stella-Lunar, not…whatever this is,” Rocko complained.

“Actually, this is late little league Stella, with a touch of Scarlet Star,” Pataki corrected. “The ballerina-esque skirts give it some class and a lot of leg, which looks older, and the gold—and your red—offer some maturity as well. It’s still a little league Magical Girl outfit, but it’s modeled on what successful would-be minor league girls have worn in the past. And it doesn’t have a cape. I approve.”

Well, if it was good enough for Pataki, it was good enough for me. I nodded. “How quickly can you have this in the System?”

“An hour or two. You won’t be able to transform at all while I work. And give me that collar. I’ve got an idea,” Pataki rasped.

I handed the collar over, and Pataki started fiddling on their keyboard. Then they glared at Rocko. “Get out. I don’t want an audience for this one.”

“Fine. But Pataki, the ratings better be through the roof, or it’ll be outta your paycheck!” Rocko stood up. “DuPont, Marino, waiting room. We’ll work through the oath.

I followed. I knew something Rocko either hadn’t caught on to or, for once, was too tactful to mention. The new dress showed some actual cleavage above the new amethyst gemstone. Not much; in fact, it was downright modest compared to half my casual outfits. But against the old dress, and in the role of heroine, it felt almost scandalous. I’d made sure to add it, which was one reason Bianca was probably thrilled.

Ratings were going up.

Rocko drummed their fingers against a chair. “Oath. That oath ain’t gonna cut it. It’s been good for Small Town Super and early Heroics 101 pilots, but we’re launching a proper Season One now. Ditch the family, ditch some of the love, ditch the named villain—you don’t have a rival anymore—and please, please, don’t say ‘Don’t fear. Magical Girl Understudy is here!’”

Bianca snorted. I whirled in my plastic seat. “Oh, please. You call yourself the Marsupial of Justice.”

“That’s clicking with older audiences better than your oath.”

“Shit.” I took a deep breath. “How about ‘The spotlight shines on darkness and villainy?’ That feels more in line with what my powers do now, and it’s more—“

“It’s better and ‘love’ and ‘truth’ and ‘peace,’ but we can do better.” Rocko pulled a paper and started scribbling. “Okay, you gotta hit three ideals. You gotta have a catchphrase. You gotta name the community you’re part of, but we’ll let it flex this time. And then you need the post-sequence stinger.”

“’I swear to upstage villains and put justice in the spotlight across Tokyexico?’ That’s better, right?”

“That’s too short,” Bianca said. “This shit’s your big spotlight moment, no pun intended. You’ve gotta go big. How about ‘I swear to upstage villains and put justice in the limelight, from opening night to curtain call. To stand against evil, greed, and villainy. And to stay true to love and hope?’”

“That’ll work. We can refine it after Season One, but it’s functional. And the post-sequence vow? That can be more of a catchphrase. Yeah, a catchphrase would be best.”

“’I’ll always be your star, Tokyexico!’”

Rocko put their face in three hands, holding their cigar carefully away so they didn’t knock it to the ground. “Seriously? I give you creative freedom, and that’s the line you come up with? It’s not on-theme, it’s not clever, and it’s not minor-league. Back to the drawing board.”

Then they got an evil-looking grin. “Even better. Marino! What’s your catchphrase?”

“Have no fear, Justice-Roo is here.”

Rocko shook their head. “That’s stupid, but it’s better than ‘I’ll always be your star.’ It’s on-brand for you, and it evokes pre-Launch Day superheroes. You want that catchphrase to be snappy. Something people will remember. Justice-Roo is memorable. Goofy and little league as all get out, but memorable. Try again.”

“’ Villains, exit stage left?’ ‘The curtains close on evil?’ ‘Shining a light on crime?’” I had no idea what to do.

But, shockingly, Rocko nodded. “The first one’s not bad. You might even earn a Badass point or two if you say it right. So, run me through the whole thing from the top. Action!”

“I swear to upstage the villains and put justice in the limelight from opening night until curtain call. To stand against evil, greed, and cruelty. And to stay true to love and hope.” I did a little spin and jazz-hands’d; in The Backstage, the System was off, and Pataki’d said I couldn’t transform even if I wanted to. “Villains, time to exit stage left!”

“That works,” Rocko said. They puffed a cloud of clove-scented smoke. “Time to work on yours, Marino!”

◄▼►

Bee and I slipped through the Backstage door and into my green room. “Show me, show me, show me,” she said, bouncing up and down excitedly.

I held the collar in my hand. “Fine, but get out, just in case the sequence is incredibly embarrassing.”

“What, worse than Squirt’s?”

“Shut up!” I held the maintenance door to my apartment open and stared until she walked out. Then I stared at the collar in my hand for a full minute. Pataki had said it was a surprise, and the Ilneat costume designer refused to elaborate, which meant the new Costume was either incredibly dumb or ridiculously cool. I ran through my new oath, the same old transformation to Understudy, and my new catchphrase. Then I fastened the collar around my neck and held Tails high.

“Transform meow!”

<Transform meow!>

The plushie cat hovered in front of me. She lifted a paw at the same time I raised my hand. I spun and so did she, mirroring my movements. Then, as I bowed at her, she leaped out of the air and onto my head. I flinched from the sudden pounce and reached up to steady her. But I couldn’t feel her.

I could feel two ears, though.

And two tails.

“Oh my god!” I screamed, locking the maintenance door.

◄▼►

“It’s been fifteen minutes, Annie! I know you’re done changing!” Bianca knocked on the door, thumping on it over and over.

A small part of me noted how mundane that sentence sounded out of context. A normal relationship was probably full of moments like that; one partner hogging the bathroom while the other banged desperately on the door, or a locked bedroom door keeping someone from their nap.

Most normal relationships weren’t powered, though. And of the ones that were, one partner usually didn’t turn into a catgirl.

Which was precisely what Pataki’s costume design had done to me.

I had two cat ears, white plushie fur across my face, and whiskers. The dress, similar in design to my old Understudy outfit, pressed even more plush down. And, worst of all, were the tails—two of them, just like my familiar. I’d taken one look and screamed again. Thank god the door was locked. I’d never hear the end of this as it was, but at least I had time to think about how I’d explain this to Bee.

<Okay,> I thought. Or maybe Tails thought. I wasn’t sure where she ended and I began anymore. <Let’s take a nap for a bit and think this through. The Ilneat who built this had a wonderful idea, and nya-ow we’re one person. Do you feel like fish? I feel like fish.>

“Stop talking about food, Tails. I’m going to be sick.”

The domino mask formed a black pattern around my eyes. I couldn’t see why. No one was ever going to recognize me like this.

<You should look at your new powers meow!>

“Come on, I wanna see!” Bianca said from behind the door. She sounded frustrated, but I couldn’t explain this. No. Way.

“J-just a minute!” I shouted. I pulled up the catgirl Costume’s powers. Then I groaned. “Bianca, I’m going to kill you! These power names are so stupid!”

“I know, right? Open the door and let me see!”

“Gimme a minute!”

“You’ve had like twenty!”

[Leaping Leopards] was a gap closer. It was a pounce. A full-on pounce. It had a cooldown but no restriction on the uses per act. I could use it to leap to prey—er, villains—from far away. Simple, practical, and, frankly, kind of uninteresting. But it was a functional Badass power, and since Fursona was Badass/Grit, I needed to try it out. Her version must’ve been whatever she’d used to hop onto the van during ‘You’re Super-Suited for This Job’ during the job fair.

[Cat Scratch Fever] seemed much more interesting. A combination of damage over time and a double-vision debuff, I could only use it once per Act. It paired well with [Leaping Leopards], though. Really well. Against a more powerful villain like Theseus, I could use [Hometown Heroine], leap into melee with [Leaping Leopards], and [Cat Scratch Fever]before running away. I wasn’t sure which of Fursona’s powers this copied. I looked at my paws and extended the half-inch claws.

Yeah. I had paws, too.

The last power was the reason I told Bianca the power names were stupid. [Fursonal Furcefield] gave me a 20% chance to ignore damage as long as I wore my fursuit. There was just one problem.

“Tails, I don’t have a fursuit.”

“Oh my god you got that power this is amazing!” Bianca said from the door. I was glad we had the thirteenth floor to ourselves since her voice echoed around my apartment. She’d have blown at least one of our covers otherwise.

<I’m your fursuit meow!> Tails said in my mind. I paused. I had no idea how that’d work with this power, and that meant it was the most important one to test. If it did work, would Tails take damage? I’d had Pataki make sure she was fine after the Series Finale, but I didn’t want to get her hurt.

All told, my new Costume looked pretty solid—but also totally embarrassing.

[Costume - Copy Cat]

[HP 7/7]

[Styles and Skills]

►Archetype Skill - Transformation Sequence

►Badass

►  Leaping Leopards 0

►Cunning

►Drama

►  Cat Scratch Fever 0

►  Hometown Heroine 1

►Flamboyance

►Signature Skill - Adaptive Armoire 1

►Stored Costumes: (Understudy)

►Spotlight Strike 1

►Grit

► Fursonal Furcefield 0

Bianca banged on the door. I gulped, walked over, put my hand on the door, and hesitated. “Don’t laugh when you see it, okay?”

“I wear a fursuit for my powers. I’m not gonna laugh.”

“Okay. I’m holding you to that.” I opened the door and cracked it open.

Bianca smiled, but to her credit, she didn’t laugh. I explained the powers I’d gotten and the body merge with Tails as best I could, which was hard when Tails couldn’t explain it either. It took a few minutes on the couch to finish the explanation.

When it was over, Bianca leaned in for a quick kiss, but she pulled back with a grossed-out expression. “Eugh! Whisker!”

“Sorry, but that’s kinda your fault.” I flopped onto the couch, and she ran her hand through my plushie fur. It felt good. Really good.

Then she stopped. “Annie, you’re purring. That’s really weird. And…kinda fun?”

<She can do that any time!>

I stood up, blushing. “We’ll explore this newfound interest of yours later. I’m changing back and getting ready for Christmas Dinner.”

◄▼►

4 - Christmas Dinner

Su-Bin’s parents were from Seoul, an old city from before Launch Day. They’d gotten dumped here in Tokyexico when the Ilneats returned everyone to Earth, and even though they kept their traditions, Christmas had infiltrated their home.

Mr. Pak laughed over the remains of his ham. “Or, more accurately, Sun-Bin smuggled it in.”

I looked over my shoulder theatrically and nodded. “She sure did.” The apartment’s living room was covered in wrapping paper, and the tree sat half-tilted from their cat’s efforts. They’d cooked all day, and—being completely honest and without any guilt at all—I admitted Christmas dinner was the best tasting I’d ever had. Mom and Dad couldn’t compete; the double-wide trailer’s oven wasn’t big enough, and Mom wasn’t this good of a cook. The whole apartment smelled like honey, cinnamon, and fresh bread.

I leaned back, stuffed. Bianca excused herself and hurried to the bathroom. A moment later, she burped, sounding like a cross between a frog and a cow. Su-Bin and I both laughed while Mr. Pak smiled. The Paks were the kind of people who didn’t have first names until you got to know them. He turned to me.

“We’ve asked Su-Bin, but we’re curious. With supervillains on campus and in school-sponsored clubs, do you feel safe on campus?”

“Yes?” Where’d that question come from? I glanced at Su-Bin, who looked apologetic.

I knew Su-Bin couldn’t possibly know my secret identity; I wasn’t that close to her, and Bianca had seen both the superhero and the student. But she did know I liked supers a lot. We’d discussed it before, even though she wasn’t into them.

“Well, we’re not sure Su-Bin is. She’s taking Engineering 103 next semester.”

“Oh, because of that fight. The building was empty, and only part of it collapsed.” I realized I was too flippant as soon as I said it, but it was too late. I’d already put my foot in my mouth.

“Anika, right?” Mrs. Pak asked. Her eyes narrowed.

I nodded.

“I don’t trust heroes,” she said bluntly. “They’re in on it with the villains, and it’s all a game. The Pherris Report did the digging and according to them, crime is up twenty-six percent from three years ago. There are too many heroes and villains looking to make it big, and none of them care about us. We’re just Extras, and—“

“Mom. It’s Christmas.” Su-Bin looked mortified that the conversation was going this way. “Can we not do this tonight?”

“No, she’s right,” Mr. Pak said. “I’m just shocked that the university didn’t do more to keep people safe. There’s only so much we can put up with, and things aren’t getting better out there. Right, Anika?”

I shot Bianca a look. She’d done a ton of research when she got her powers. She nodded just slightly and cleared her throat. “Actually, the streets are statistically safer than they were pre-Launch Day. Things get bad just before Power Wars, but that’s only because all the supers look at their competition and start pushing harder.”

“That’s not true,” Mrs. Pak interrupted.

“It’s really not. The Pherris Report says it’s as bad as it’s ever been right now. ‘Should we even allow Power Wars?’” Mr. Pak asked. The question sounded like it came from someone else, and like he was repeating what he’d heard. “Are superheroes really heroes? How can you tell which is which?”

My mouth was open, but Su-Bin cleared her throat before I could say anything. “I’m not sure I feel safe at school either, but it’s Christmas. Can we come back to this some other time?”

Mrs. Pak looked ready to keep going, but Mr. Pak put his hand on hers. “Sure. We want you to be safe, though, and it’s a bigger, scarier world than when we were young.”

It didn’t seem bigger or scarier to me. Didn’t everyone live under the threat of nuclear war? We’d watched a whole Episode about nukes last semester, and how dangerous they were. But I let the subject change. “What classes do you have next semester, Su-Bin?”

Su-Bin pounced on the opportunity. “Engineering, Calculus, Child Psychology, Creative Writing, and Post-Launch Day North American History. I’m excited about the Calculus and Engineering, but the others sound boring.”

“We might share some classes. What time is Child Psychology?”

“10:00 Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“Twinsies!” I held out my hand for a high five. I did not tell her about Creative Writing since that was my ‘cover’ class for Combat Style. We probably didn’t share that class, too, but I’d rather have time to find an excuse if we did.

The three of us chatted for a while about our classes. Bianca wasn’t in any of mine this semester, which kind of sucked. I’d hoped she wanted to stick with the theater theme, but her biology career path locked in a lot of her choices. And, much to my annoyance, she actually seemed interested in it as a career.

“Well, I think that’s a great choice,” Mr. Pak said approvingly. “And what about you, Anika?”

“I’m thinking either theater or law.”

I did not mention it was superpower law, but I doubted he’d have been happy if I had.

◄▼►

I rode the elevator—the real one, not my secret one to the green room—up to my apartment. Su-Bin’s parents had been nice at first, but it bothered me a ton that they disliked supers so much. They hadn’t seemed upset, either. No one had ever wronged them specifically, or if someone had, they hadn’t said anything. But they did have real concerns.

The Tokyexico University Student Superhero Association and the Student Supervillain Society routinely put students at risk, often for downright crazy purposes. Not every villain created high-risk Episodes, of course, and most student supers had Codes of Ethics thanks to the Superpower Ethics class. But that didn’t mean what the villains were doing was legal. And it definitely didn’t mean it was safe.

Professor Panic and all the other villains without codes were a different story. He didn’t have a code. He’d leveled a building on campus and probably made Su-Bin’s parents more worried than they’d already been.

I’d talk to Su-Bin sometime and see what she thought.

My computer sat on the coffee table, with a pair of presents next to it. The red one said ‘Mom,’ and the green one said ‘Dad.’ Neither was wrapped well; lumps bulged out of the blob-shaped presents, both of which had far too much tape.

I opened up the laptop and found my video chat option. I pressed ‘call,’ and then waited while the digital ringing filled the room.

“Merry Christmas, Annie!” Mom and Dad both shouted. Mom held a glass of orange juice, but from her rosy cheeks, she’d spiked it with something. For once, she didn’t have a cigarette. Dad’s drink was nowhere to be seen. He waved into the screen.

“Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad! I missed you a ton at dinner.” I rubbed an eye, which had started stinging.

“Us too, Anika,” Mom said. “Did you have a good time with your friend?”

“Yeah, kind of.” I explained everything as best I could, trying not to sound too confused. I didn’t feel like I’d done a good job when I finished.

Mom nodded, though. “There were some people like that in Riverside. Anti-super folks. Before you got powers, I was one of them.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment. “You were anti-superhero?”

“No. Not anti-superhero. Anti-super. There’s a big difference. Superheroes aren’t a problem for most people, even the anti-supers. It’s the villains. Crime does spike all the time, but in Riverside, it wasn’t as noticeable. The only villain was a little leaguer with an army of robots. There wasn’t a Power War going, either.” Mom sighed. “Look, the fact is that most anti-super people have completely fair concerns. And in an ideal world, I’d rather not have powered people running around. I’d rather not be an Extra.”

“But that’s not what we have,” Dad said. “We’ve got dangerous villains like that gas guy who attacked us on move-in day—“

“Haze-Matt.”

“—Yeah, Haze-Matt. Thanks, Dot. Villains like that need to be stopped, and when they get that powerful, the police aren’t enough anymore.”

“But you were anti-super?” I asked Mom.

“Yes. I was anti-super. I’ve come around, at least a little bit. We’re not getting rid of villains, so getting rid of heroes makes no sense.”

“We are not ruining this virtual holiday with pro versus anti-super talk,” Dad said. He pointed at a pile of wrapped gifts. “Have your grades come in yet?”

“No.” I stiffened. I hadn’t put enought effort into my classes, and I was worried about what that report card would say. But that was a problem for tomorrow Anika, not today Anika. “I’ll let you know when they do. Let’s get to the gift exchange.”

“Alright, Dot. Which present do you want us to unwrap first?” Dad asked.

“The one on top.” I watched as Mom and Dad slowly unwrapped it, peeking inside and pretending to be excited about what they’d gotten me. We’d been playing this game all month with Advent Calendars, so it wasn’t new or anything, and it definitely wasn’t as good as being home.

If the option to go to Bianca’s house had been on the table, I’d probably have taken it. But not being able to be home—not having Dad’s cookies, decorating, or even the stupid drive around Riverside to see the lights? Missing all that was hard, and it’d all just hit me. I was a sniffly mess by the time they’d finished unwrapping the new backpack, which was a pink faux-leather and would probably look fantastic with my new costume.

I grinned through the tears while I unwrapped their gifts. Dad got a model airplane made of wood that he’d have to put together, and Mom got a fabulous multicolored blouse I’d found at Broadway Mall. “I’ll…hide them in the closet until I can come home,” I sniffed.

Being stuck away from home for the holidays sucked.

◄▼►

<Hey Annie. Can we chat for a bit? - Bianca 9:45>

<Yeah. I could use the distraction. Coming over? - Annie 9:46>

<Nope. Too cold out, and I’m tired. Just text - Bianca 9:46>

Good. I wasn’t in any condition to have her over right now, but I also wanted to talk. I lay on my bed, halfway under the covers, eating Christmas chocolate. The wrappers sat on the floor and on my blanket while a little league Episode played. It was Vigilant Vow, but I wasn’t paying much attention.

<What’s up? - Annie 9:47>

<I miss home - Bianca 9:48>

<Me too - Annie 9:48>

<My mom makes precooked ham every year. Its usually dry - Annie 9:48>

<Id rather have her ham than Mrs. Paks - Annie 9:48>

On the screen, VV summoned his familiar squad—five again—and ducked into the shadows as the fantastical animals swarmed toward a building where some villain had taken hostages.

<Im hurting a lot, annie. Its like when I came out here - Bianca 9:50>

I shut the Episode off. Figuring out how Vigilant Vow’s power worked was important, but I needed to focus on Bee.

<Tell me about it - Annie 9:51>

<I flew. I had one carry-on and two checked bags. Thats it - Bianca 9:52>

<Mom and Dad didnt come with. Busy with working - Bianca 9:52>

<So I had a tough Saturday and Sunday night - Bianca 9:53>

<<3 - Annie 9:53>

<Thanks - Bianca - 9:54>

<So I really needed a friend on Monday - Bianca 9:55>

<Thanks again for that btw - Bianca 9:55>

We chatted for another hour, jumping back to talk about her flight, then way ahead to her coming out to me, then back to our first Episode against Jumper and ‘S.’ By the time Bianca felt tired, I knew more about her than I had about Peter in our first year together, all in text messages. Eventually, though, she texted me one last time.

<Goodnight. Tomorrow we’ll do some research - Bianca 11:58>

I didn’t fall asleep, unfortunately. I was too worried. I wasn’t sure if it was the race for the minor league role, homesickness, or my impending report card.

◄▼►