Shift 1.3
[David]
On Saturday, I returned to the Protectorate HQ, without my parents this time. The receptionist directed me to an empty hallway, where I shifted into my 'costume.'
"Good morning, Metamorph," said a voice from behind me.
I turned to see Orbit standing in the hallway, now with three orbs of what looked like linen floating around her.
"Uh, morning," I replied.
"Your appointment with PR isn't for another hour, so feel free to go socialize with your teammates," she said, gesturing towards an elevator down the hall. "Someone will come get you when it's time."
"Thanks, uh, ma'am," I said, and walked past her to the elevator.
"Have a nice day," she said, moving off in the other direction.
One elevator ride later, I found myself in the common room again. The lights were dimmer than last time, probably to be easier on the eyes for those just waking up.
Only one person was present in the common room, half-lying, half-sitting on a couch, wearing an oversized sweater with the hood up. On the ground next to them was a creature about the same size and shape as a German Shepherd, with an alligator-like mouth and an impressive rack of antlers, which meant that the person was probably Familiar – Lyra.
"Hello," I said, announcing my presence.
The person on the couch froze for a moment before turning to face me and revealing that it was, in fact, Lyra. I took a moment to study her face, now that she wasn't wearing her costume. She was ghostly pale, with dark bags under her eyes, and she looked almost emaciated. Her hair drooped into her face and she seemed to hide behind it. Her expression was sad, and she avoided my eyes.
"Um, hello," she mumbled.
I wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. Luckily, I was saved by one of the doors opening and Lucy poking her head out.
"Aha, I thought I heard someone talking audibly out here," she said. "Morning David, morning Lyra. I'll be out in a minute."
After a minute of awkward silence, Lucy emerged from her room. She was dressed in street clothes, and made a beeline for the kitchenette.
"C'mon, Lyra," she said. "Breakfast! You want anything, David?"
"Uh, no," I responded. "I ate."
Lucy busied herself around the kitchen, pouring two bowls of cereal and setting the coffee maker brewing. A couple minutes later, she walked back into the main area and handed one of the bowls to Lyra. She accepted the bowl, but I saw her staring at it like the Cheerios might at any moment spring to life and attack her. Lucy wandered over to a chair, plopped down, and started to work her way through her own cereal.
"Eat up, Lyra," she said in a pause between spoonfuls of Cheerios.
The other girl still looked apprehensive, but she began slowly eating the breakfast. Eventually, I decided to break the silence.
"So, you guys stayed overnight?" I asked.
"Mhm," said Lucy around a mouthful of cereal, before swallowing it. "Yeah, we're the night crew, so to speak. I think Reactor's still in her lab from last night, too."
"Ah," I said. "Everyone else went home, then?"
"Yep," replied Lucy. "Maddy usually comes here right after she wakes up, but that could be past noon. Hank will be around whenever he feels like. Anaesthetic only comes in when he's scheduled for a patrol or for monitor duty."
We lapsed back into silence. Lucy finished her breakfast and put the bowl back in the kitchen, returned with a cup of coffee, and turned on the news. Lyra just slowly picked away at her own cereal. And I started thinking.
I was a Ward now, and that was exactly the sort of thing that I'd been fantasizing about forever. Everyone idolized heroes as a kid, and even after learning enough about Capes to realize how romanticized that view was, I still imagined what life would be like as a hero sometimes. The universe had apparently granted my wish, but now that I actually had powers I felt underwhelmed. Sure, being able to be someone else had its charms, but I just felt useless, because I was no better in a fight than any other guy off the street who spent some time in a gym. If only I'd had an actually useful power, like an Alexandria package…
"Hey, David," said Lucy, shaking me out of my thoughts. "You've, uh, gone all Alexandria."
I looked down at myself, and sure enough, I'd inadvertently assumed the form of the renowned heroine, complete with the gray-and-black costume emblazoned with a tower.
"Uh, whoops," I said, focusing my power to return to my regular self.
"What was that all about?" she prompted.
"I was just wishing I had a better power," I replied with a frown.
"What? Dude!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up. "You're like a better version of Mystique! That is not a weak power!"
I recognized the name Mystique as being a comic book character, but I wasn't exactly a big comic reader. I dipped into Aleph stuff occasionally, but nothing too in-depth.
"You're going to need to fill me in here," I admitted.
"Mystique is- actually, hold on, I'll show you," said Lucy.
She got up from her seat and all but sprinted to her room. A minute or so later, she emerged with a comic book in her hand. Instead of bringing it to where I could see it, however, she took up a position in an empty part of the room, flipped it open, and put it on the ground.
I was about to ask what she was doing when the comic began to twitch and shake on the floor. Then, a blue-skinned arm emerged from the pages of the book, followed by the rest of a body. It was a bit disturbing, like watching a contortionist emerging from a space too small to hold a normal person. Finally, the figure straightened out, revealing it to be a young-looking woman with blue skin, golden eyes, and red hair.
"That's Mystique," said Lucy. "She's a villain from the X-Men books. Her powers are a lot like yours, except she doesn't even get the physical strength of whoever she turns into. And there's a load of stuff she does with it, which means there's probably even more stuff that you can do."
I looked hesitantly at 'Mystique.' She was standing still, like a mannequin, staring straight ahead.
"So she's part of your power?" I said.
"Yeah, my power lets me bring cartoons and comics and stuff like that into the real world," explained Lucy. "They're like, weird semi-autonomous puppet things, and they have copies of the characters' powers up to about a three or four on the PRT rating scale. They last about five minutes and I can only have one out at a time."
"Huh. Neat," I said.
"You're the only one here can do stealth or infiltration properly, though," she said. "Some of them might have shapeshifting, but they can't talk and they move like robots outside of combat. So don't worry about not having a place on the team."
Well, that was something at least.
"Alright, I guess," I said.
I didn't have anything to say after that. Luckily, I was saved the trouble of coming up with something when the elevator dinged and Ferric stepped out.
"Ah, Metamorph, I believe it's time for your appointment with Mr. Markowitz," he said.
"Oh, thanks sir," I replied, and walked over to the elevator
.
"Second floor," said Ferric.
I nodded and stepped into the elevator, making my escape.
***
"Good morning Metamorph, take a seat," said the PR manager. "I'm Derick Markowitz."
He was an older man, bony, with white hair and extremely bushy eyebrows. It looked like the weasel-snake that Familiar's pet had been yesterday had died on his forehead. He extended a hand over his desk.
"David Ashton," I replied, shaking his hand.
"Right, let's get straight to business, shall we?" he said. "As a member of the Wards, the PRT has the final say on your public image, but I'd like to know what you think about it. Particularly your costume, as that will be the most visible aspect of your identity."
"Well," I began, pausing to get my thoughts in order. "When I stepped in to fight Sludge a couple of nights ago, I thought about it a little. I'm a shapeshifter, right? And that means I'm going to be looking like a lot of different people. So instead of trying to come up with a single costume that would look good on anyone, I decided to just pick a logo and a colour scheme to stick with. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing."
"The idea does have merit," agreed Derick. "You can shapeshift your clothing, then?"
"Yeah, I guess it counts as part of 'me' for my power or something," I said. "I've tried to make body armour and stuff though, and it doesn't work. It just makes something that looks like body armour but doesn't give any real protection."
"We'll have to look into that," mused Derick, typing something into his computer. "Perhaps if we give you real body armour, you can incorporate it into your outfits."
I shrugged.
"We'll come back to costumes in a moment," he said, "but first I want to know something: what kind of hero do you want to be?"
I raised an eyebrow at the strange question.
"The kind that helps people?" I said.
Derick chuckled.
"That's good, but not exactly what I mean," he explained. "It's more about the sort of attitude you want to present. Inspirational? Funny? Scary? There are a lot of ways to be heroic. Mouse Protector is a very different sort of hero than Legend is, and they're both quite different to your colleague Frankenstein, but they're all heroes nonetheless."
"That's… a good question, actually," I admitted. "I'm not sure."
"Well, we'll call that your homework, then," said Derick. "We've got the whole week before you make your debut, so feel free to set up another appointment once you've considered it."
***
[???]
I couldn't sleep again.
I couldn't remember the last time I could sleep.
The dream used to be so pretty, but they didn't like that. I had to make the dream scary. I didn't want to, but if I didn't, I'd be punished. It was the same when
they told me to make the dream hurt people. I didn't want to do it. But they made me.
I just let the thorns hurt me, instead of trying to sleep. When I hurt it made me feel better for hurting other people.
I couldn't tell how much later it was when a man came into the dream. He was big, and he was trying to look scary. But he just looked scared. They always did, ever since they brought me here.
"Hey, kid, the bosses wanna talk to you," he said.
I didn't want to talk to
them, but they would make me if I tried to stay here. I got off of the bed, and stepped out from the shadow of a creepy tree, right beside the man. He jumped, and I smiled a little. They couldn't punish me for scaring the people who worked for them, 'cause they did the same thing.
But then I remembered that it was bad to be happy about hurting people, even if they were bad people. I squeezed the rose that I was holding, and the thorns hurt me. Mommy and daddy taught me that hurting people was bad. It was so long ago. I could barely remember what they looked like. I couldn't even dream about them. Not the dream around me, a sleeping dream. I couldn't sleep.
The man led me out of my room, out of the dream, into the hallways. He was still trying to look scary, but I knew he was scared of me. All the other people in the halls were scared of me too. I wished I could just make the dream eat them all, even if I would have to hurt myself for enjoying it. But I couldn't.
They would punish me. They didn't know I could do that. I didn't show them, 'cause if I did, they'd make me do it to people. Good people. I didn't want to hurt them.
We got to the big room. I couldn't tell how long it took, or how we got there.
They were there, like they usually were, sitting on their big fancy chairs, with their creepy masks and their creepy faces. The other people who saw me were scared, but
they weren't. The other people tried to be scary, but
they were the only ones who really were.
"I brought the girl," said the man who led me here. I could tell he was even more scared now.
"We can see that," said one of them.
"We do have eyes, you know," said the other.
The man nodded and walked away. He was still trying to act like he wasn't scared.
"Now, girl, we've got a job for you to do," said the first one.
"You see, one of our chess pieces has gone and been captured," said the second.
"Normally we wouldn't bother with that incompetent," said the first.
"But apparently there's someone new in town," said the second.
"We want to know what they can do, and you're going to help," said the first.
"You know what will happen if you don't," said the second.
I squeezed the rose again. I let the thorns hurt me. The rose was dying. The dream in my room was fading now that I was outside. I wanted to call the dream up again and let the dream eat them. But I wasn't strong enough. They were gonna make me hurt good people again. I was so sad, and scared, and angry. Tears fell down my face. Someday I was gonna be strong enough.
Someday.