Payback Is a B-!

 By
Domoviye
With Assistance From Morpheus, Amethyst, And Elrod

 

 

The Declan Residence
Washington DC.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Shortly after dawn

“Leanne!” Jay Declan screeched from the bathroom door.

The freakish little monster his brother had somehow gotten, and insisted on everyone treating it like a member of the family instead of something that shouldn't exist, smirked at him from the mess of panties, bras, skirts and dresses that had been scattered all over his bed and floor. “Master wants you to stay home. You want to stay home. I am helping you stay home.”

A tingle ran through his head, and he saw a small bush covered in purple flowers seemingly grow out of the floor in the corner of his room. The ever-present scent of flowers increased.

The tiny figured hopped off the bed with surprising speed and raced for the door. Jay started to chase after her, only to get his feet caught on a shirt that had been thrown on the floor. He tried to catch himself, only to hit his arm on the bed frame. His face slammed into the wooden floor with a crunch and a yell that was covered by the slamming of the door. Blinding pain ran through his head and arm.

Clutching his broken nose, he curled into a ball, crying softly in pain. He didn't know how long he laid there until the pain started to fade. Getting to his feet, he went to his bathroom, stripping his undershirt off as he went, and washed his face and chest to get rid of the blood and tears. He felt his nose pop back into place with a painful crack. A quick, unwanted glance at the mirror showed week old looking bruises and swollen eyes that were fading rapidly.

Looking at the bloody mess by his bed, he used his ruined shirt to clean the floor and dumped it in the trash. By the time he was done, no one would know he'd broken his nose. The headache and dull pain in his sinuses wouldn't go away for a while, but his nose looked fine, and his eyes were only a little puffy, with no hint of the prominent bruises he'd had minutes before. 

Jay felt more tears well up in his eyes. He hated crying, but everything was working against him, and it felt like he was crying every single day now at some new humiliation. Scrubbing his eyes, he unwillingly went to the full length mirror, hating everything he saw. He wasn't supposed to look like this. He wasn't supposed to be dressed like this. He wasn't supposed to feel like this.

The person, no the female, looking back at him shouldn't exist. She hadn't existed until the start of December. The big blue eyes, the freckles, the shaggy caramel blonde hair his mother had insisted couldn't be shaved or even cut short, only trimmed into something the hairdresser called a pixie cut, the stupid girlish face with chubby red cheeks, a tiny chin, and big red lips, she shouldn't be there.

It was all his brother's fault.

Everything had been going great with his freak brother at the mutant school. It had just been him and his parents like it should be. When the loser, tomboy Hannah had turned into Hank, it had seemed right. Hannah had always acted better than everyone else because she got awards in JROTC, just because she was a girl and the officers had taken pity on the freak.

Over the summer, Hank had somehow infected him the same thing, slowly and then all too quickly changing his body, making it impossible to stop the process. It wasn't until late September that Jay had realized something was wrong, when he started growing the ridiculous tits that now stood out on his chest. So of course no one believed that his brother had anything to do with it.

“Calla, are you ready to go?” his mother demanded, coming into his room with only a quick knock.

That was something else that had changed; once his body looked completely like a girl, his mother had started treating him like one. Instead of knocking and waiting to make sure he was dressed, she seemed to think it didn't matter if he was naked or in his underwear.

“MOM! Knock!” he practically screamed, covering his panties and completely ignoring his bare chest.

“You don't have anything I don't,” she replied with a wry smile. Then she caught site of the empty duffle bag and the scattered clothing, the smile vanished and she sighed in frustration. “Why did you unpack everything? You'll have to iron it all once you get to school. And why aren't you dressed? The car will be here soon.”

Knowing his mother wouldn't believe him if he told the truth, he didn't say that Hank's little monster had unpacked everything. “I don't want to go! Why can't I stay here with you and dad?” he asked for the thousandth time, while she started putting all of the girl clothes into the duffle bag.

“Because you need to learn how to control your powers. And Whateley will be a fresh start for you, Calla. Now get dressed this instant!”

Wanting to cry once more, Jay wiped his watery eyes and started getting dressed in the clothes his mother had picked out for him. Taking the bra that was supposedly an A cup, but looked huge, he reluctantly put it on. Then came the itchy black wool tights. They weren't supposed to itch, at least that's what he'd been told, but they always made him want to scratch his legs, and felt like they were pinching him. He kept thinking they were long underwear and he should have proper pants overtop of them. A t-shirt was next, clinging too tightly to his new curves. Next he put on a long brown sweater he never would have been caught dead in two months ago. Finally a dark brown skirt that went from his waist all the way down to his ankles completed his look. The girl in the mirror looked miserable, matching his mood.

His mother had donated every piece of his old wardrobe to charity, replacing all of it with girl clothes. And she had insisted he had to learn how to be a proper lady, so he couldn't even get away with just buying jeans, plain shirts and hoodies.

“There, you're all packed,” his mother said. “I wish we had kept some of Hank's old clothes. That would have made things a bit easier.”

Jay bit back a curse at the thought of wearing anything Hank had had as Hannah.

Turning back to him, she gave him a smile. Months before, he would have been overjoyed at the smile, proof that he was a good kid. Now, knowing why she was smiling at him, it made his stomach churn.

“That's my girl,” she said proudly. “Now you look like a proper young lady.”

“I should be going to Whateley in the Fall. That was the plan,” he said, pouting as complained.

His mother frowned. “Yes, it had been. Then you got sick and changed faster. So now that you're all girl on the outside, it's time to get you back in school, making friends and learning.”

His stomach dropped like it always did at the thought of going to the same school as Hank. He knew his freak brother would make his life hell. He and his friends would be sure to humiliate him. “I could go to school here,” he muttered.

“Really? What happens when you make flowers erupt from the floor? Or appear out of thin air? How will you explain that?”

Guiltily, he avoided looking at the corner of his room where the small bush still innocently sat. It would vanish in a few hours without any trace, but for now it was healthy and giving off a rose-like smell - the same smell that he gave off naturally and got worse whenever he sweated.

“Exactly,” his mother said, seemingly reading his mind. “Now get your bag and you downstairs. Hank is waiting for us.”

Grabbing his duffle bag, Jay lifted it easily and headed downstairs. Despite becoming a girl, and looking  a lot less muscular than he had been, he hadn't actually lost any strength. He hadn't gotten any stronger either, he was strong for a thirteen year old boy, and had the same endurance he'd had before. About the only change, other than the tits, was being more flexible and getting better reflexes.

Seeing his brother, who was holding Leanne in his arms of course, standing by the door, having gotten bigger and taller since the summer, he wanted to scream at how unfair it was. Hannah had become a man, gained a forcefield that could stop missiles, and regularly lifted thousands of pounds. All he had gotten was becoming a flexible girl who could make flowers and heal quickly.

It wasn't fair!

Hank looked up at them and smirked. “Ready to go, Calla?”

His brother had been pretending to be polite for the entire vacation, but Jay knew it was all an act to look good in front of mom and dad. Hank had been smirking and giving Jay the side eye, letting him silently know that things were going to be hell as soon as they were at Whateley. Why couldn't his parents see it?

“She's finally ready,” their mom said. “Is the car here?”

Hank looked out the window and nodded. “It's pulling up now.”

Resisting the urge to run away, Jay slid on his ankle high black boots, the sales lady had said they made him look elegant when his mother had bought them. The knee length, white winter coat with a fake fur hood, just added to his embarrassing appearance. Knit white gloves finished his humiliation. No one would ever believe he was a boy.

And then Hank made the humiliation worse. He put Leanne down, so she would look like a normal little person in her hooded winter coat, before grabbing both of their duffle bags, and carrying them out to the car. The asshole had been doing things like that all vacation, acting as if Jay was a girl, holding the door open for him, carrying things for him, talking down to him by being all polite and soft spoken, and so much more.

Taking his carry-on bag, a dark blue one covered in bright flowers, because he had to love flowers now, and his annoying purse that marked him out as a girl, he ground his teeth on the way to the car. His mother wrapped an arm around his waist, like he was her daughter instead of her son. His father stepped out of the car while Hank put their bags in the trunk. He almost screamed when the two shook hands and gave each other a half hug in greeting. And then he found himself being fully embraced by his father and worse getting a kiss on the head, just like Hannah used to get, and seemed to be a whole father-daughter thing.

“I'm going to miss you, Calla,” his father said.

“I could stay here,” Jay retorted, stepping back and trying to look more masculine, ignoring his mother's sigh.

“No, you can't. All the arrangements have already been made. Now get in the car, we need to get you both to the airport.” 

Sliding into the middle of the back seat of the spacious car, Jay tried to adjust his skirt so it wouldn't bunch up and get even more uncomfortable. Leanne grumbled as she was forced to sit beside him, while his parents were on the outside, and his freak brother in the front, Jay took a last look at his home and his old life. He tried to force himself to enjoy having his mother's arm around his shoulders, but inside, he knew that nothing would ever be good again.

Berlin, New Hampshire,
Berlin Airport,
Early afternoon

“This is my sister, Calla,” Hank said to some teenagers who were waiting for the bus to take them to the mutant school.

Trying not to look intimidated, Jay glanced up the tallest one, who seemed to be the centre of attention. He had to be over six feet tall of solid muscle, and he looked very serious. “Hey,” he said.

“Are you going to be as much trouble as your brother was last year?” the guy asked.

“No. I'm better than he is,” Jay said. He knew Hank would do something to hurt him, probably by saying he should be a boy instead of a girl, but he was ready to fight if he had to.

The guy might have smiled, it was hard to tell, then he held out his hand. “I'm Adam, on campus you can call me Stormwolf. If anyone gives you trouble, come find me or one of my friends in the Wild Pack. We help security keep things under control. Don't be like your brother and his friends used to be and think you have to fight everyone at school who looks at you cross eyed.”

Nodding, Jay accepted the hand, and frowned when Adam only shook it lightly as if he was afraid of breaking him. Just because he was physically a girl, didn't mean he wanted to be treated like one. “I'll remember that.”

Introductions apparently done, Adam turned away and started talking to Hank and the others about plans for something called the auxiliaries. That was fine with Jay, he didn't want to be around Hank or the stupid brownie that was hanging onto his brother's leg, anymore than he absolutely had to. Leaving his duffle bag with the rest, he walked a little ways away to lean against a pillar and people watch.

The waiting area didn't have any adults around, just teenagers and all of them were in little groups, talking, showing each other things on their phones, and some were exchanging presents.

“Great,” Jay whispered to himself. “New kid, and a fucking girl.”

He wished he was wearing normal clothes. The stupid woolen dress and tights made his legs feel like they were in an oven. His mother had said he'd be happy to have them once they arrived, but he certainly wasn't happy yet. And trying to pee with a long dress on the plane had been hell, even after all the training his mother had insisted on. Why did women even like dresses?

“Oi, lass. This the queue for Whateley?”

Jay jumped, caught by surprise by a girl who had come up behind him. The girl was even shorter than he was, with a cheerful smirk, red hair framing her face, while black hair hung over the shoulders of her purple jacket. She was wearing a dress as well, a red one that went halfway down her thighs. A battered old suitcase on wheels was close at her side, and a threadbare bookbag hung over one shoulder.

“Yeah, it is,” he finally said.

Yawning the girl took a seat on her suitcase. “Boss. First time flying an' it's all the way to the colonies. 'ad to get up early an' the scran on the plane left me proper devoed, leaving me famished.”

Jay spent a moment trying to work out the sentence, it had sounded English, kind of, but between the thick accent and the weird words, it wasn't easy to figure it all out. “Uh-huh.”

“You're standing around like a blert lass. Ya waiting for your mates, or planning ta be a bit of a scally?” the British girl asked.

The translation part of Jay's brain threw down its book in disgust and left to go lay down, leaving him wondering what the hell the girl had just said. “I have no idea what any of that means,” he admitted sheepishly.

Rolling her eyes, the girl grinned. “Right, ya Yanks don't speak proper English. Why ya standing on your lonesome?”

“Oh. I'm new to Whateley, late student you know.” He ran his hand through his shaggy hair, not too sure how to deal with the odd girl.

The girl lit up at that. “Sound! So am I. Name's Pippa, straight from Liverpool and a proper Scouse.”

“I'm Calla,” he replied, remembering to use his new legal name. “I'm from Washington D.C..”

“Watcha do to come 'ere?” Pippa asked.

“Make flowers,” Jay quietly admitted, and waited for the laughter to begin.

“Sound. Flowers are mint when it's Baltic like this. Really brighten up the place an' make it look sound.”

“... Thanks. What about you?”

“I make boss things,” she said very proudly and then sniggered, which sounded really odd coming from the petite girl. “I couldn't bring Mutt-L-E 4, the G-men told me it had ta stay home. But I 'ave plans for Mutt-L-E 5 that'll be smashing it when I'm done.”

“All right,” Jay said, guessing she was one of the tech mutants.

“Hey ya got some readies?” Pippa asked. “I just got British ones, an' I'm starving.” 

“Readies?”

She nodded. “Money, for the vending machine. I'll pay ya back, or I can give ya a pound as a souvenir.”

Jay started reaching for his wallet, when he remembered he didn't have pockets anymore. Instead he had to open his pain in the neck purse, dig through all the junk his mom had insisted a girl needed for some stupid reason, until he found his wallet. Taking out a few bills, he handed them over to the girl. “Here ya go.”

“You're a star, mate,” Pippa said, rushing over to the vending machine to get a snack.

With the British girl gone, Jay had a moment to try to regain his balance. Pippa could have played a hyperactive kid sister in a movie from the way she talked, even with her yawning. He'd never met anyone quite like her, and it wasn't just because of the language. She had hit him like a truck and hadn't stopped.

She came skipping back already eating a chocolate bar, which made her look like a little kid. “Mmmm, I never 'ad a Baby Ruth before. It's sound.”

“Are you in junior high?” he asked, taking a not too wild guess from the girls size and attitude.

“Yeah. 'ad a bit of trouble with some hoofwanking bunglecunt nonces, so me mum and the bizzies thought I should come 'ere, instead of finishing the year back home.” She shrugged and finished her snack. “Ya in the kiddie class too? Ya got the look.”

“Yeah, me too. My mom and dad didn't want me staying at home, and I sometimes make flowers appear if I get distracted. It's not a good thing to do in school.”

“Looks like we both need new mates 'ere, and everyone else is taken. Ya look like a good lass, so whatcha say Calla, ya watch me back, I watch yours?” Pippa said.

Jay couldn't help but smile at the loud and proud girl. He might not understand half of what she said, but she seemed cool. “Sure, Pippa. Us new kids need to stick together.”

The Dastardly Daughter, or Pippa when she didn't want to stick out, put her black and red Baker Boys hat over her earmuffs. It wasn't far to the bus, but the students queue was slow, and it looked truly Baltic outside with big snowflakes falling. Slipping on her red gloves, she turned on the inbuilt heaters, which would keep her fingers from freezing.

Her new friend bundled herself up as well, and she looked posh in her clobber. Calla's white coat was brand new, and her boots were so shiny she could see her reflection in them. The lass had probably never had to even look at a second hand store. Still, she seemed sound and hadn't acted all scared by some bad words, not like some posh birds Dastardly had met.

And with the blonde hair and shy eyes, Dastardly couldn't help thinking of her former best mate, Lily. She hadn't seen her old friend in a month, but she knew the lass wasn't doing very well after having been hurt by the fucking nonces. She kept her excited expression pasted on; she was the Dastardly Daughter, she couldn't look sad or upset right now.

Holding Calla's free hand, she swore she'd be more careful this time.

A big handsome lad with a teeny-tiny girl at his leg came walking up to them, and Calla's hand squeezed hers just a little too tightly. From the corner of her eye, she saw what looked like fear followed by anger and hatred flare up on the girl's face, replacing the shyness. Dastardly moved in front of her new friend.

“Oi, blert! Watcha doing? The bus is the other way,” she demanded, glaring up at the big guy, and mostly ignoring the little lass who was looking daggers at her. She made a fist ready to punch him and send a big jolt of electricity right to his gut if she had too.

“I'm making sure my sister is getting on the bus and has everything she needs,” the boy said, looking a little annoyed.

Dastardly felt Calla squeeze her hand even harder when the yob emphasized the word sister, drawing it out as much as he could. She stepped forward, her voice getting harder. “Well she does, now sod off.”

Shaking his head, the blert of a brother just turned around and waited for his turn to get on the bus, while the little bird kept giving her an evil eye. Calla stayed quiet, glaring at his back, and when they got on board, the lass made sure to sit well away from him.

When the bus started moving, Calla finally spoke. “I could have handled him,” she said.

“I figured ya could. But I was 'ere, an' I don't like big bellends who think they can look down on people.”

For the second time since meeting the girl, Calla smiled. “Thanks. It's nice to finally have someone on my side.”

“What'd I tell ya, you watch me back, I watch yours. I might not look like much, but they don't call me the Dastardly Daughter for nothing,” she made sure to snigger just like Dick Dastardly from the old cartoon she enjoyed. She had to keep up appearances after all.

“Your codename is Dastardly Daughter?” Calla asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. The most dastardly girl you'll ever meet.” Another snigger just for show.

“Better than mine,” the girl said softly. “I couldn't think of anything good, so my mother had them call me Fern. It would have been Blossom, but that was already taken.”

“Fern's a sound name, makes ya seem all nice and peaceful, and a bit of a snoozefest. Ya let 'em think like that and ya can catch 'em with their pants down and arses out. Can I see one of your flowers?”

The girl frowned a little but then perked back up, holding out her hand. A moment later a purple flower that looked kind of like a rose with long petals appeared. It smelled boss, and Dastardly leaned in to take a big sniff. “Hmm, I like it. An' it smells like ya.”

That drew another frown from Calla. “I know. I started smelling like the flower when I manifested. And when I sweat it gets worse. I stunk up the whole gym the last day I was at school and had to run laps.”

“Well at least ya must save some dosh.” She saw the confused look on her knew friend's face, and translated, “Dosh, cash. I'm gonna 'ave to talk like a journo on the telly, ain't I?”

Calla reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, if you want to be understood, you'll have to not use so much slang. I think I'm catching most of what you're saying, but I'm honestly guessing a lot.”

“Ugh! When I get back ta Liverpool, all me mates are gonna laugh at me for being all proper and posh.” Sitting back in the bus seat, annoyed and needing a break, she opened up her backpack and pulled out a large bracelet that had tiny, steel ball bearings tightly packed inside of the band. First she put on a stretchy armband that she'd modified to discretely hold several small batteries, followed by the braclet. Several thin wires connect the bracelet to the power source, and a tiny light lit up briefly letting her know it worked. A few more much smaller pieces snapped onto the bracelet, and in less than two minutes she was once again armed, with a mostly non-lethal spring gun that looked like jewellery. Fixing her sleeve, the weapon just peeked out for people to see, and giving her a clean shot if she needed it. 

Her new mate had watched everything curiously but hadn't said a word or done anything to attract attention. She was liking the lass more and more.

“OK, what is that thing?” Calla finally asked, keeping her voice low.

“Little toy I made, but 'ad to hide from the bizzies at the airport. It shoots the ball bearings when I want, and it really stings.” She didn't say that that was its weakest setting. It could also leave a hole in a blert that'd need stitching up, break bones, or shatter a skull if she needed to deal with a nonce. Those last two were only for certain people, and even though she probably wouldn't need it at school, she still felt safer having the options available.

“Cool!”

Grinning, Dastardly nodded. “Thanks. It's good to 'ave where I live, some of the yobs like to give lasses a hard time, an' a knife gives the bizzies a cob on.”

Once again Calla looked lost. The lass said, “I've heard of yobs, that's a guy whose being an idiot, right? And I think bizzies means police. What's a cob on?”

“Right enough on the first two. Cob on means angry. If I wake up and say I've got a cob on, don't talk to me until I get a cuppa. An' I'll do the same for ya.”

“Right. Got anymore hidden surprises?” 

“If I told ya, they wouldn't be surprises,” Dastardly said with a grin. She didn't actually have anything else except for her zap gloves, and after all the devises she'd made for taking out the nonces and protecting herself, she felt pretty naked. Whateley was supposed to have a boss workshop for working on projects; she'd just need to start making new weapons as soon as possible.

“Now,” she continued, “with your flowers, can ya make them inside a person?”

Her friend's eyes went wide. “I- I never thought of trying that.

“Ya should, lass. Get a wanker an' put a flower in his mouth and throat, an' he's gonna be too busy to bother ya. Can ya make thorns?” 

“I don't know, I never tried. It's just so useless, what's the point?" 

"Nothing is useless, specially if ya put a thorn bush 'tween someones legs. Just gotta be tricky 'bout it." Grinning, she thought of other ways to use the flowers. “How 'bout wrapping someone up in one o' your bushes? Make it really tight to so they can't move.”

“Maybe. I don't know.”

“Ya should try it,” Dastardly said “The world is a right bitch, ya need all the advantages ya can get, because most people ain't gonna give two shits about ya. Agent Waters, said this place will give ya a right thorough test of your powers. Ya should try everything to learn whatcha can do, so when they try ta knock ya down, ya can catch 'em by surpise.”

“Agent Waters?”

“MCO agent. He's a bit of a drip, but he helped me mum sign me up for Whateley, an' he saved me life, so he's better than most g-men and bizzies I've met.” Her hand involuntarily went to her stomach to touch the still tender scar.

“The MCO saved you?”

Shrugging, she tried to act like it wasn't a big deal. “Some bellend nonces with wee little pricks thought they could sell me to some arseholes. I got away, but one of them pig wanking cum stains, stabbed me in me guts. Waters shot him, an' got me outta the warehouse 'fore it burned down.”

She didn't mention that she'd been the one to set fire to the building, or that she'd beaten one of their yobs to death with a cricket bat to the skull. And she would never breathe a word about the real reason they had kidnapped her. That had involved killing more than a dozen of their like-minded friends over a month, using traps and ambushes with her devises, after they'd raped her friend repeatedly, and had tried to do the same to her. Agent Waters had only been there because he'd been trying to prove she was the murderer. No one could know about that. As far as everyone knew she was just a near victim of a grooming gang, who had been sent to school overseas to get her out of the limelight and any potential retribution as the scandal spread all over the country.

It was better that way.

Calla cursed under her breath, before saying, “That must have been scary.”

“I was too angry to be scared. No wanker messes with the Dastardly Daughter an' gets away with it.” Feeling the need to change the topic, she asked, “Your wanker of a brother has been 'ere a while right? Ya must know some interesting things about the place. Anything to share?”

“I've heard a bit from listening to him and his girlfriend. I'm not sure how much I trust his stories, but from what I've heard, they're really big on teaching us how to fight and get away from trouble.”

Leaning in, Dastardly grinned as her new friend talked about BMA, sim training, and superpowered teams. This school might be boss after all.

Whateley
Headmistress Carson's Office

Standing at parade rest beside his brother, Jay wondered why they'd been called to the office of the headmistress. A very short sheep girl had been waiting for Dastardly, telling her that the other new students were waiting, but security had been there for him and Hank, telling them to come here. Fortunately the annoying Leanna had been told to go to Hank's dorm and tidy it up. Jay was always happy to have the freak away from him, even if she was being a maid for his brother.

The tall and very attractive blonde woman looked them both over, taking her time about it. “Lancer, Fern,” she finally said, “I know about your past problems dealing with each other. I would like you both to be frank, if I place you together in Poe, would that cause problems?”

Jay glanced up at Hank, his brother had more experience with the headmistress so it made sense to see how he acted.

Hank frowned and became stone faced. “I could deal with it, but I'm not sure about Calla.”

It took everything Jay had not to protest. Hank was the one always causing problems, not him. Wishing his voice didn't sound so airy and weak, he defended himself. “I won't cause any problems.”

The headmistress leaned back in her chair. “Very well, Lancer you'll spend the rest of the day showing your sister around the school and going over the rules.”

His eyes went wide in surprise and anger. Hank was going to be his guide; that would be a disaster. Looking up at his brother, Jay saw that the rocky visage had somehow become even harder. Turning back to Headmistress Carson, Jay almost pleaded, “There has to be someone else.”

The woman's eyes narrowed a little, and Jay immediately went back to parade rest, looking straight ahead.

“I had asked both of you to tell me the truth,” Carson said, sounding disappointed. “Lancer I had thought better of you. Fern, in this office truth is the best policy, remember that. Clearly the feud between you is going to be a problem. Having you in the same cottage might help you overcome it, but it will just as likely make it worse. To avoid that problem, Fern you will be in a junior high room in Dickinson cottage. That will give you both the space you seem to need.”

As he breathed a sigh of relief, Jay saw his brother doing the same.

“Fern, I'll require you to take a magical oath not to tell anyone about Hank being a changeling. Some students do not react well to changelings like you and your brother.”

“What about Hank? What will keep him from outing me?” he asked, wincing as his stupid voice squeaked like a chipmunk.

“I don't mind taking that oath,” Hank said.

“Is that satisfactory, Fern?” the headmistress asked.

“It is, thank you, ma'am,” Jay replied. He wasn't going to let Hank act like he was better or more polite. It was just a matter of fairness that had been the problem.

He listened as the headmistress said some odd words and then asked him if he would keep Hank changing into a male a secret. When he agreed, it felt like something heavy encircled his heart for a moment before fading away. It was a completely new and very unwelcoming feeling, that he hoped and prayed he would never feel it again. He watched as Hank got the same treatment, making sure the words were the same, just with a change of names and pronouns.

“Very well,” Headmistress Carson said, “living arrangements have been made, and the main potential problem has been dealt with. I expect you both to at least be civil with each other while on campus, and avoid any problems that will require security or staff to intervene.”

Jay and Hank both nodded in agreement.

“It's time for both of you to get settled in then. Fern, a student is waiting to take you to the meeting room for new students. Lancer, security would like to talk to you about some changes to the auxiliary schedule this term. Do not keep them waiting,” she said with a warning look, dismissing them.

Turning to leave, Jay couldn't hide a glower as Hank's longer legs already had him halfway to the door.

It wasn't fair.

Crystal Hall
Early Evening

Sitting in Crystal Hall, Jay was eating an early supper with some of the other new students. The place was packed and they'd all silently agreed that sticking together was the smart move. Pippa and the very odd looking, little sheep girl called Ewe from New Zealand, were at one end of the table talking rapidly to each other. It seemed like they were talking about America, but that was a guess at best. The large and very muscular boy who had the odd codename Chain Mail was sitting at the other end of the table. The quiet way he was eating a huge grilled chicken Ceasar salad with his head down, face practically hidden by long, shiny black hair, combined with how he'd barely said anything at the meet and greet, almost whispering whenever he did speak, made a conversation unlikely.

So Jay was sitting across from Kaylie, also known as Haze, who was from Pittsburgh and had already visited Whateley, where she had apparently manifested. The rest of their little group had skipped supper to get some sleep after long trips or to set up their rooms.

“Is that all you're eating?” he asked the girl, who was nibbling on a small salad.

“Yeah, I'm meeting my cousin and her friends for supper soon. I'm just really hungry because I skipped lunch, and I don't want to pig out in front of them,” Kaylie explained.

“It must be nice having family here already,” Jay said, before biting into a gravy covered fry.

“It is. She's told me all about Whateley. Some of the bullies sound really scary, but she and her team beat up a group of them, so things should be easier for me.”

“I've heard Whateley can be kind of rough too, but I think a lot of what I heard was exaggerated to scare me,” he replied.

Kaylie looked doubtful for some reason, but just shrugged. “Have you thought about joining any groups? My cousin only has a training team with her friends, and is kind of in a group called the Gearheads, since she's really good with cars. I don't know what I should join, but it would be a good way to avoid sticking out.”

“I'm going into the JROTC.” Seeing her confusion, he explained, “Junior Reserve Officers' Training Corps, for teens who want to join the military. My dad is a Colonel in the army, so I'm going to try for West Point when I graduate. If I do well in the JROTC, it will look good when I apply.”

She nodded in understanding. “So you're going to be taking BMA, right? You might be in the same class as my cousin, Ribbon. She's really good in it since she's a tough exemplar who has taken down supervillains.”

What was with students supposedly fighting supervillains, Jay wondered, as Kaylie started telling him how her cousin and aunt had fought some midget magic user that had kidnapped them. Before she could finish her story, where Ribbon was tearing apart golems, she looked up at the door and waved.

“Sorry, Calla. That's my cousin and some of her friends,” the girl said.

Turning around to look, Calla saw a furry boy, some guy with a buzz cut walking really closely to a demonic looking pitch-black girl who had horns, a blonde girl that was skipping along, a cute purple hair girl, and a beautiful girl with sapphire hair. Then she saw a tiny ten-year-old, white haired girl who looked like she came out of a Victorian horror movie wave back.

“That little girl is your cousin?!”

“Yep,” Kaylie said, giggling. “She's actually a little older than me, it was a big shock when she came out of the hospital looking like that.”

“Yeah, I can believe that.” Jay sighed, wishing that he'd only gotten younger like the Ribbon girl.

“Gotta go Calla, I'll see you in class,” she said, hurrying off with her tray.

“Bye,” he said after her.

Glancing over at Pippa and Ewe, he saw that were still engrossed in whatever they were talking about. The sheep girl looked pretty sad, and was holding a baby bottle she had with her tight to her chest, while Pippa was very clearly cursing, and kept repeating the word 'nonces' alongside more normal swear words, in very interesting and unique ways. Jay decided it was best if he stayed out of that conversation. With the only other conversation option being the big quiet guy, Jay turned his attention back to his hot roast beef sandwich and fries.

At least the food was really tasty. Not as good as his mom's, but almost as nice.

Mary Shepherd, otherwise known as Ewe, sat at the table with her fellow new arrivals to Whateley, some of her nervousness dissipating with the knowledge that she wasn’t the only new kid at this strange school. She was grateful for the opportunity that Jimmy and Lauren had given her, but she probably should have stayed with Lauren until Christmas instead of coming here early to get settled in. It had just made her feel more out of place because most of the students were at home celebrating the holidays with their families.

The only benefit to that was that she was able to take a squizz at the campus, but to be honest, she missed home already. No, not her horrible parents, but Jimmy, Lauren, and the familiarity of the way that people at home spoke. The way folks talked here was munted, but she couldn’t pike out now.

Which was why it was a relief to meet Pippa, she didn’t feel quite so out of place, and Pippa seemed pretty skux for a Pommy. At least she could understand her. So, when it came time for the newbies to head to Crystal Hall, by some unspoken consensus, they all ended up at the same table, where she sat opposite Pippa at one end, and the others sat further down the table. Though that could have been because Crystal Hall was chocka at the moment, and this had been one of the few empty tables available.

Mary was still cold from the walk here, so she was having a nice hot cuppa and bikkies with a cucumber sandwich. The tea wasn’t great, but at least it was hot.

“Bloody Baltic out there,” Pippa offered.

“Hard out, Cuz,” she offered in agreement before adding. “If I had been expecting this brass monkey weather, I would have bought some proper wop wop woolies. At least I can manifest wool to keep me warm, but it would be nice if I could get a proper cuppa or a fluffy to drink instead of whatever this is.”

Pippa laughed as she agreed. “Too right, the colonies ain’t exactly what I was expecting. Not a single bloody car chase or gun fight on the way 'ere.”

That got a good laugh out of Mary as she responded, “Too right, you’re a dag. I’ve been here taking a squizz since just before Christmas and I haven’t been invited to a proper piss-up to get my wobbly boot on yet.”

It seemed like the movies had lied to her about the American school experience, not that she had any interest in either parties or drinking alcohol. She just wanted to learn to use her powers better and make some money to get Rae a proper memorial monument. The thought immediately killed all the humor in the situation, and she went quiet for a moment as she reached into her bag to pull out the baby bottle that held her daughter’s ashes and clutched it to her chest for comfort. They had been through a lot together.

Pippa looked at the bottle with some interest and asked, “What’s that then?”

Looking at the bottle self-consciously as she continued clutching it to her chest, Mary let out a soft sigh before answering. “This is my daughter, Rae, or what’s left of her.” An echo of sadness and a flash of guilt from her spirit were ignored; she was used to that reaction to her grief, and it wouldn’t change the situation.

There was no judgment in Pippa’s eyes, only a sudden concern that encouraged her to elaborate. So, she told her the short version of the events. When she was fourteen, she’d met a sixteen-year-old French boy who made her feel special, and then he and his father had run off three days after he’d taken her virginity and gotten her up the duff.

That had gotten a reaction out of Pippa, as she looked angry and started grumbling about nonces. Which was fair, given that she’d only been fourteen at the time and he had pulled the wool over her eyes to get what he was after and then just up and buggered off. For a moment Mary had shrank back from the anger evident on Pippa’s face until she realized it wasn’t directed at her, so clutching the bottle tightly, she continued her story.

“Ma and Pa… well, everyone… told me that it was a bad idea to carry Rae to term, but I wanted to be a good parent and give her a happy life… like my parents never did for me. I lost her when I manifested while I was in labor,” Mary admitted, trying not to let the tears flow as she held Rae’s bottle against her ample chest. “Ma and Pa probably wished that I had carked it along with Rae, they wouldn’t let me get anything to put her ashes in, and the only thing I had was this baby bottle so…”

“Your parents sound like gob shite, fuck knuckles,” the Dastardly Daughter pointed out quietly, her eyes looking even angrier than before.

Mary merely nodded in agreement before telling the other girl, “Yeah nah, they hated me before I became a mutant, and after my powers testing with the MCO, I overheard Ma talking with some lady about killing me, so I ran off and was homeless for a few months before Jimmy found me, and he and Lauren offered to send me here, where I would be safe, and now everything’s choice as. She’ll be right, and there’s no use packing a sad about what’s done and in the past, eh?”

“Ya sure?” she pressed with a protective gleam in her eye.

“Hundy p, Cuz,” the sheep girl offered with the best smile she could manage.

“Well, if any blerts or yobs bother ya, let me know,” Pippa proudly proclaimed. “I protect me mates and I’ll teach them wankers what happens when they mess with the Dastardly Daughter.”

“Chur, Cuz, I…” Mary started to reply.

She was interrupted as an unknown girl’s voice yelling something about Calla.

Nek minnit, bushes and flowers were growing all around them, and even from the table itself, entrapping both Mary and Pippa, and Mary quickly covered her body in wool to protect herself. It made her clothes a bit too tight, and she would have to rip it off later, but if they were under attack… That thought was immediately cast aside as she looked toward Calla and the others through the brush and saw that she had buried her head in her arms. Was she embarrassed?

Finishing his sandwich, Jay looked at the the quiet boy who was still slowly eating his meal, looking utterly alone. Deciding to at least try to be nice, remembering how he'd felt at the airport before Pippa had come over to him Jay said, “Hey, Chain Mail? Do you have a regular name?”

The boy, who literally had muscle on top of muscle, and would be a shoe in for a teenage Hollywood mafia thug, right down to the blunt, hard features and a bit of a squint in his right eye, looked up, his tanned cheeks darkening a little from a blush. “Yeah, I just haven't had to use it much, Peter Key.”

Jay moved closer to Peter, to make sure he could hear the kid. “Where are you from? You didn't say in the introductions.”

“L.A.” There was a pause that grew longer and longer, until Peter broke it. “I was living on the street there.”

“Oh,” was all Jay could think to say, he'd never really met someone that desperately poor. “So... you must be glad to be at Whateley, right?”

That was met with a shrug, then a nod. “Yeah it's safer. And they'll be giving me a job, so I'll be able to buy things other than food. Soap and shampoo are really nice, and not something you think about until you don't have it.”

“I never thought about that. It's always just been there,” he said, suddenly realizing there were a lot of things he took for granted.

“I know,” the big guy said, becoming more animated. “It was the same for me. My parents always bought the best things for skin and hair care, and I never had to worry about it. When I was finally picked up off the street by the Hollywood All-Stars, the first thing I did was have a two-hour long shower. It was like heaven.”

The look of pure bliss on Chain Mail's face was kind of weird, but also a little heartwarming. Jay couldn't help but think of a really ugly puppy looking at a big bone.

“Hey Calla, I have to ask, what do you use for your hair?” the guy suddenly asked.

“Uh, just some three-in-one shampoo,” Jay admitted, wondering how the conversation had turned to his hair.

That got a real reaction from the massive boy, a very unexpected look of sheer horror. “Oh no, girl! That's why you have so many split ends. That pixie cut works great for you, framing your face, the bangs making you look a little shy, it's perfect. But if you don't care for your hair, it won't care for you. In a month or two, it'll look dead and it will be constantly tangled.”

“Uh, what?”

Chain Mail moved to sit beside him. “OK, Calla, this is what you NEED to do. First toss that horrible 3-in-1 poison out. Next you need some immediate emergency hair care, you'll need one large raw egg for this, honey, and... yeah your hair is definitely dry. You'll want at least 2% milk, although whole milk is best.”

Jay found himself just nodding dumbly as he was overwhelmed by hair care advice that sounded more like some kind of magic potion, especially with how the large, ugly and very earnest boy was talking about it, as if it would save his life. He tried to get a word in edgewise, but somehow he couldn't get it out, Chain Mail was too engrossed in the talk, and seemed so happy.

Once more Jay's mind went to an over eager puppy dog. Interrupting the boy would be like kicking a puppy who was trying to play. A big, ugly and kind of scary looking puppy, but still a puppy.

And then he started talking about skin care.

Suddenly a familiar and very annoying voice rang out.

Not sure if he should be happy at the potential interruption or not, Jay looked back at the main entrance. Hank walked in with his friends, including Jade, the loud, idiot girl who was always talking about something stupid the few times he'd been forced to meet her, or be near her.

“And on Christmas Eve when the big meany, Healthy Living Machine was holding Santa hostage, we were about to get it to surrender him and hand over all the elves, and kids when a little girl offered it a doughnut. That kind of spoiled everything as HLM went on a rampage over sugary foods,” Jade was saying loudly enough for everyone to hear her annoying voice.

The brat suddenly stopped talking, much to the relief of Jay's ears, only to spoil it a moment later by squealing.

“Oh my god! Is that your sister, Calla?!!!” Jade practically screamed at Hank. “She is even more adorable than her picture! And look she can make pretty flowers!!!”

Bushes thick with purple flowers sprang out of nowhere all around Jay as he groaned in humiliation. He realized that while he and Chain Mail were just surrounded by his bushes, Pippa and Ewe, and some kid who had been walking past, were trapped in the plants that had even come out of the table. Burying his head in his arms, all he could think was that he was doomed.

"Um...” Chain Mail said, “do you want me to get rid of the bushes. I can rip em up pretty easily.”

“No,” Jay muttered, his voice muffled as he hid his head, “just leave them there so I can die in peace.”

Jade waited to really start talking about important things until the Kimba's were at their usual table with the magic eavesdropping protection. “I can't believe that big poopyhead Jay became so cute!”

“She's still the same brat,” Lancer said, shoving his burger into his mouth, while grumbling in disgust. 

The smile that came to the tiny girl's face would have made any bully she'd tangled with in the past, run in terror. “Really now. And she's here at Whateley where so many accidents can happen.”

“Jade,” Hank warned. “If she ignores me, I'm going to ignore her.”

“Aw, just a few small pranks. She's such a mean doo-doo brain, who is always mean to you.” Jade gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

Sighing again, Hank asked, “If I tell you not to, you'll do it anyways, right?”

Looking away, she muttered, “Maybe.”

“Don't do it too often, and nothing dangerous, really mean, or humiliating. She's a jerk, but she has promised to leave me alone, and she was never the type to bully anyone else.”

“OK,” Jade promised, still grinning.

Dickinson,
Lights Out

Jay looked around the dorm room, and was thankful the walls and furniture weren't pink and nothing was frilly. His own side of the room was neatly ordered, even the ugly light purple, he refused to think of them as pink, sheets, blanket and pillowcase on his bed were so smooth and tight that it would pass a military inspection. Across the room, Pippa was much less organized, with her clothes shoved haphazardly into drawers, and the old, worn sheets provided by the housemother only loosely placed on the bed.

There was just one last humiliating thing to put away. He didn't even want to look at it, but he couldn't leave it in the box that had been delivered to Whateley with the things he'd need that wouldn't fit in his duffle bag. Sighing, he pulled out the expensive makeup kit his mother had insisted he take. She'd said that even if he didn't like makeup now, a woman always needed some to make sure she looked her best. Now he just had to find somewhere to shove the thing, and the garbage wasn't an option unless he wanted to lie in the summer and claim he'd used it all up by caking on the makeup like a clown every single day. 

"Whoa!" Pippa said, seeing the large kit. "That must o' cost a bomb. Ya like the war paint?" 

"War paint?" It took Jay a moment to work it out, then he shook his head. "No, I don't use makeup. My brother thought I should be more girly and got it for me for Christmas."

For a second it looked like Pippa was about to swear and her jaw became tight, before lightening up and smiling again. "So the blert isn't a total wanker after all. What did ya get the lad?" 

Smiling, Jay happily said, "Most of the Twilight series, I'll get him the last book when it comes out this year. He likes romance stories, so I figured he'd enjoy them." Their parents had insisted they get nice Christmas presents for each other, so he and Hank had gotten the most passive aggressive gifts possible. He thought he had scored a win there, since he hadn't spent as much money as Hank, and the makeup could possibly be useful in the future. 

"Huh, the blert didn't seem ta be all lovey-dovey." Pippa shrugged, and turned her eyes back on the kit. "Ya really don't do makeup?"  

"Hate it. My mom made me learn the basics, and as soon as we were done I washed it all off." 

"Do ya mind if I use it sometimes? Won't use much, just sometimes when I want ta put some slap on and fancy meself up." The girl paused, seeing his confusion. "Put some makeup on." 

Looking at the girl and thinking of everything he knew about her, Jay had trouble keeping the surprise from his face and voice. "You wear makeup?" 

"I like looking pretty too," she said, sounding a little offended. "Just 'cause I'm not all posh and proper, don't mean a bit o' lipstick and blush don't feel nice sometimes." 

Holding up his hands, Jay smiled to avoid a fight. "I just... You don't come off as the type, and you look really good already. You can use as much of it as you like. That'll let me tell my mom it was being used." 

That seemed to settle things, and Pippa smiled back. "Thanks, mate. I'll make sure your mum is happy with ya. And I'll save some for ya, if ya decide to try it." 

"Thanks," he said, trying to sound at least a little grateful. Putting the makeup kit on top of his dresser where Pippa could use it whenever she wanted, Jay started to get his toiletries and pajamas ready, wondering how he could change without his roommate watching him. Turning back to rest of the room, he realized the girl wasn't nearly as concerned about getting undressed around people as he was. 

“Yeech! I smell like a proper meff,” Pippa said, sniffing her pits.

She was just in one of those undershirts with a built in bra that he could never remember the name of, and panties, and totally unconcerned about Jay. Which made sense, she thought Jay was a girl. And then the girl began taking off even those, making his cheeks light up as he started to turn away. 

“What? Too posh ta be naked with a pleb?”

“No, just not really used to it,” he said, turning back to look at her, but keeping his eyes mostly down.

“Well you're me roomie now, an' me mate. Get used to it. An' ya should have a shower. You're a bit meff, too.”

“Yeah, right.” He had to pretend to be a girl, and this was normal for girls. He went to get his robe, when he saw a large pink scar on Pippa's stomach, and stopped dead.

“What?” Her eyes followed his and she touched the scar not shy in the least. “Oh yeah, told ya I got a little cut from a fuckknuckle greasy haired cuntbag nonce. The ozzy said it'll go away soon enough, cause I'm an exemplar. Bit devo'd about that, would be good to show off, let any wankers know it's hard ta take me down.”

“Right. I can see that, scars build character after all.”

“Ya hit the nail on the head. I survived it, I want ta show it.” Cocking her head, Pippa suddenly frowned, then grabbed her threadbare robe from the bed along with a towel and toiletries, and headed out to the small junior high shower.

Jay followed her shortly, having to take off his own clothes. The junior high rooms were on the first floor, at the far corner of Dickinson so they had privacy away from the front door. There were just three rooms, a good size bathroom that five girls could use at once, and a shower that could hold two people at a time. It was clear they didn't expect many junior high students. 

Stepping into the shower area, Pippa was already washing up and didn't seem interested in talking, which suited Jay perfectly. He didn't know what girls talked about in the bathroom, and still didn't know why they often went to the bathroom in a group. Being completely naked around a girl was also new and uncomfortable. He knew that it would take a physical exam of his insides... down there, to see he wasn't a full physical girl, but he still couldn't help thinking something would happen and everyone would realize he wasn't supposed to be with the girls. That thought made him grateful about something, at least he wouldn't have to worry about getting a period for at least another year. 

Getting into the free shower stall, he gratefully closed the curtain and began showering. As usual, while he was thorough at getting clean, he tried not to look down at the body parts that shouldn't exist. He took a little bit longer than usual to make sure Pippa was finished getting ready for bed and out the door, before he got out of the shower.

With his teeth brushed, all dried off, and happy that his hair wasn't a long mess that needed a hair dryer to dry properly, he walked back to his room. Pippa was passed out on her bed, buried in a tiny ball under her blanket so tightly he was kind of afraid she'd die from lack of air.

Slipping into his pajamas, green ones since he had refused to let his mother pick them out, he got into bed and stared at the dark ceiling.

“Well here I am,” he said quietly. “At the freak school with my brother. I don't know how it can get worse, but I'm sure it will.” 

With that happy thought he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Schuster
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Morning

Dastardly kept a close eye out while making her way through the busy administrative building. Lots of students and staff were rushing around doing last minute things, and since she was smaller than most of them, they kept bumping into her. From watching the crowd at Crystal Hall, she knew most of the hits were accidents, but some were done by blerts, yobs, and bully boys just to make them feel tough. She wanted to scream at them to watch out, but that wouldn't fit her image. Instead she tried to work out how her upcoming Mutt-L-E 5 could follow her so no one would hit her from behind.

Arriving at her destination, she saw that she was five minutes early and the office door for some bird called Mrs. Hawkin's was closed. Taking a seat against the wall, she tried to calm down before the meeting with her student advisor.

She didn't want to be here, the antwacky bint was probably going to be all snarky with a cob on, and treat her like a scally. Why did she need an advisor anyways? Just give her her classes, or let her fill out a paper saying what she wanted. No need to jaw-jaw with some old slag, who would tell her to smarten up and stop being disrespectful.

Sitting there, she kept silently complaining about having to deal with an adult, getting angrier and angrier. When the door to Mrs. Hawkin's office finally opened, Dastardly was ready to spit and kept rubbing her bracelet.

Stomping into the office, she took a seat, openly glaring at the old woman. The nasty bird had a prissy haircut that reminded her of her old math teacher that had been old enough to be the queen's grandmother, and a permanent cob on.

The mean looking, old cunt pursed her lips at the way she sat the chair. Dastardly had her butt on the edge, so she was leaning well back barely able to see over the desk. She smirked, not caring what the nasty old bird thought about her.

“Miss Mischke, sit up properly,” Mrs. Hawkin's said sharply.

“Ya really got a cob on, don'tcha?” she muttered, sitting up a little straighter.

“Was that a curse?”

“Nah, you'll know when I start insulting ya. Let's get this over with. Whatcha need me ta do?” she asked, wanting to get things over with.

The advisor pushed out her chest, making it look almost ample. “I need you to show some respect.”

Dastardly allowed a nasty smile to show, followed by a snicker. Speaking as posh as she could, she said, “Me humblest apologies, Mrs. Hawkins. What can this wee little lass do for ya this fine, Baltic day?”

Any sign of niceness or happiness vanished from the old bat's face. “Right,” she said tightly, “looking at your transcripts, I think Junior High English will be too advanced for you. You'll be going into remedial English instead.”

“OI! Ya saying I'm daft?! Ya think I need some stupid catch-up class?” she shouted.

“Listening to you speak, it's clear that you do.”

“I can read better than all me classmates back home. Just cause I don't give a toss about the exams, don't mean I'm a blert!”

“Are you even speaking English, Miss Mischke?” the old slag demanded.

Dastardly lunged to her feet, screaming, “Damn right I'm speaking English! An' I'm speaking it a whole lot better than you, ya daft cow!”

Mrs. Hawkins stood up as well, glaring down at her as if she was intimidating. “You will sit down this instant and keep your voice down, child!”

“Like hell I will, ya dirty minger! I won't be called daft by a wankstain of a slag who spends her nights wanking off stray dogs, ya bollock-brained bellend!”

Art Class

Headmistress Carson knocked on the door, that had a sign saying, 'Abandon all hope ye who enter here', and stepped inside to see Imp busy at work preparing for the winter term.

“Carson,” Imp said, looking a little surprised. “I didn't expect a visit so soon. Am I in trouble already?”

“You aren't, but one of Whateley's newest students is,” Carson replied, putting a rather thick folder on the desk. “I think you'll like her.”

Raising an eyebrow, Imp flipped open the folder and immediately broke into a grin when she saw the picture of a young girl who seemed be cosplaying as a gender bent Dick Dastardly. “Dastardly Daughter? She's got good taste. What's she in trouble for, putting up a detour sign in the teacher's parking lot, hoping she'll win the race?”

“Calling Mrs. Hawkins, and I quote, 'a 50p whore whose ancient cunt is so diseased and mingy that even a blind, homeless, bladdered geezer, who ain't been able to get it up in a decade would throw up at the smell of it.' That was one of the nicer curses from her minutes long tirade.”

Imp was miraculously silent for a few moments while the words sank in. “Wow,” she finally said. “So exactly what role am I going to play in your plan to deal with the R-rated Dick Dastardly clone?”

“She needs an advisor. She has a knee jerk disdain for authority figures. Police and MCO, she'll listen to up to a point, since she's smart enough to want to avoid a prison cell. But teachers and anyone who can't arrest her, are seen, and treated as enemies until proven otherwise. Looking at her paperwork, most teachers seem to have dealt with her in the past by ignoring her, since she mostly stayed quiet in class, when she showed up, and did just enough to pass.”

“Whoa there,” Imp said, interrupting. “I know I'm not a normal authority figure, but I'm still learning how to be a teacher, I don't know anything about how to be an advisor, especially for a kid with these types of issues.”

“I understand. Normally you'd get at least a year to learn the ropes, and then a handful of easier students to advise. However Pippa Mischke, is a special case, who is dangerously on the edge of doing something very stupid that could get her killed or put in prison for life.” Reaching over, Carson flipped the file to the last section, the first page of which was a police report.

Taking a minute to read it over, Imp's normally carefree appearance dropped. “Damn. No wonder she has issues. This is all accurate?”

“As far as we can work out, yes. She seems to have taken on the Dastardly Daughter persona to make herself look incompetent and throw off suspicion, so she could destroy the grooming gang and everyone connected to it, that attacked her and her friend. You can understand why we don't want to risk putting her with a male advisor who would have more experience with student's like her, and after the incident an hour ago, she will likely react similarly to almost every female teacher we have. You however don't come off as a normal teacher or authority figure, and with your past experience, she has a better chance of listening to you.”

Imp nodded in understanding.

“You won't have to worry about all the regular advisor duties, just find out what classes she wants to take and answer any questions you can about groups and the school. I'll have someone else put them into the system for you. After that, just treat her like you treat Darqueheart and others, if she has any questions or wants to talk to you.”

Blowing out a puff of air, Imp shook her head. “Being an art thief was easier than this. OK, give me my script on how to be an advisor and I'll see what I can do. But I do have one problem.”

“Oh?” Carson asked, curiously.

“How am I suppose to top the name Dastardly Daughter? It's almost as good as my own name.”

A knock on the door made Dastardly look up from her notebook. She'd spent over an hour in the office they'd tossed her in for telling off the old bint Hawkins, only allowed to go to the loo and refill her water bottle. It was actually a bit of relief being out of the crowd surrounded by people she didn't know, with just her thoughts to worry about.

Her eyes widened at the sight of a horned woman with black scales scattered around her face, who had a demon tail waving behind her. The big grin the woman had threw Dastardly right off.

“Well, well, well,” the woman said cheerfully, “it looks like you're in a bit of trouble, Dastardly. Fortunately for you I'm willing to help you out, and it will only cost you something totally unimportant that you'll never miss.”

“Who are ya?” she demanded.

“I am the beautiful, talented, and fabulous Imp, at your service,” the woman bowed theatrically.

“What do ya want?”

“Money, fame, power, all the usual. But right now I want to talk to you.”

“The blerts already gave me detention,” Dastardly said.

The Imp curled up her nose. “Yeah, they like doing that when you tell off a teacher. Don't worry, I never give detentions.” Taking a seat on the table, she looked down at Dastardly, “So what did the old sourpuss do to annoy you?”

“The minge acted like I was daft. No one gets away with calling the Dastardly Daughter stupid,” she forced herself to snicker a little.

“Good attitude, Dastardly,” the Imp said, grinning which revealed a set of sharp looking teeth. “But maybe next time, wait a bit and slip a whoopee cushion onto her chair, instead of screaming at her. You're not as likely to end up in detention that way.”

She shrugged, trying to act like it didn't matter.

“So, what classes did the old lady want to throw you into?”

“The slag wanted ta put me in catch-up English, cause she didn't like 'ow I talk. Me English is fine enough, and I can read better than me whole class.”

“Glad to hear it, Dastardly. I'll sign you up to go straight into junior high English. You prove how smart you are there, and maybe you can skip ahead next fall. So show the wankers how good you are.”

She gave Imp the side eye, her usual anger when dealing with most adults rising up. “Are ya making fun of me now?”

“Nope. Just using some slang a friend of mine used to use,” Imp replied casually. “You ever hear of the British supervillian The Yob? I did a few jobs with him back in the late 90's when he was hanging out in the States letting the heat die down back home. He had an accent just as strong as yours. Nice guy unless you made fun of English food.”

“You were mates with a supervillain?” she asked, not quite believing it, but still thrown mentally off balance by the comment. 

“Mates with a supervillain! I was a supervillain, the infamous art thief, The Imp. I'm surprised you've never heard of me.”

The way the Imp sounded so proud, and raised her hand to her chest like an actress, made Dastardly smile in approval. “Boss.”

“Now, how are you at math?”

“I know 'ow ta do it.” 

“All right, Dastardly, we'll put you in junior high math too, but I'll make a note to move you up for the spring term if you do really well. That should be easy enough for you. You're a devisor, so we'll set you up with two workshop classes that you'll need. And finally the ever popular powers study. That one is something everyone has to take. I'd recommend bringing a pillow.” Imp said the last with a sly smile.

“That's sound,” she replied. “But I want to do the fighting class.”

For the first time Imp shook her head, while making a face. “That I cannot do, despite all my Impish awesomeness. Junior high kids can only take survival, but knowing how to avoid problems, hide, and run away is important. It lets you come back later and get revenge. I sometimes teach that class, and I used skills that they teach to survive for decades as a supervillain. So, we'll make a note to have you in survival in the spring term, and next year you can take Basic Martial Arts. Then you'll know how to run away to kick butt another day, best of both worlds.”

Frowning, Dastardly thought about arguing, but she was already in enough trouble, and the Imp seemed to be trying to help. “It's boss.” 

“Boss!” Imp replied, her tail seemed to be wagging in approval. “Just so you know, I have a free art class every Saturday morning, you should come by and try it out. It'll help you draw blueprints and relax.”

“You're an art teacher?”

“That's what they pay me for. I'd put you in my art class for the winter term, but alas you already have a full schedule. So you'll sadly have to wait until the spring term to be amazed by my teaching.”

The way the Imp said it, making it sound perfectly devo'd that she'd have to wait to go to class, made her giggle. “Sound as a pound, I'll see ya in the spring.”

“Good girl. Now do you have any questions?”

“Nah, I'm sound.” 

“Well all right then, let's get outta here. And remember if you need anything come to my art room after classes are done for the day or send me a message. I'll be there to help with classes, school stuff, and just to talk if you need it. And if you want to yell and scream at a teacher, come to me first so I can try to sort it out for you. It will save you from being bored at detention.”

Nodding Dastardly collected her things and followed the Imp to the door. “Thanks, Imp. Ya seem sound.”

“Of course I am, that's why I'm so fabulous. I expect to see you in my class on Saturday morning, I want to know what the Dastardly Daughter is capable of,” Imp said, before opening the door.

“You'll see me there. Ta-ra,” she said to the unusual teacher. Heading for the stairs while the Imp went the other way, Dastardly felt a little better. 

Powers Testing Lab
Mid-morning

Concentrating as hard as he could, Jay tried to make the largest bush possible. His head tingled, causing his ears itch for a moment, then it vanished and he was looking at a large bush covered in purple flowers that looked to be about eight feet tall and maybe ten feet in diameter.

Dr. Jean-Michael Aranis sipped his coffee before tapping somethings into his pad. The tall, thin man looked more like a scientist from a black and white horror movie, than a doctor, and his grim expression would make a shoe in for a traditional Hollywood vampire. His assistant cut off some of the branches and leaves, taking them somewhere else to be studied.

“Now do the same with a rosebush, Fern,” Dr. Aranis said.

Not bothering to respond to the creepy doctor, Jay remembered a huge patch of wild roses he had seen a few years ago that had filled what had once been a large field with impassable thorns and branches that twined together.

Once the tingling sensation left, he saw a patch of thickly entwined wild roses that formed a messy hedge eight feet long, maybe three or four feet wide, and four feet high. He cursed silently at how weak his power was, and scrubbed his eyes, trying to act like it was just a bit of sweat. Why did Hank get to pretend to be a superhero with his power? Hannah should have gotten the power of gardening, she had always wanted to be a pretty girl who went cheerleading and loved romance.

More tapping into the pad. “Make your usual manifested flowers look like that,” the doctor said pointing at the rosebush.

“I don't know if I can,” Jay replied, shifting uncomfortably in his skin tight suit that showed his unwanted curves in ways he didn't even want to imagine.

“Try it.”

Closing his eyes, he thought of the same wild rosebush but replaced the roses with the unnatural purple flowers his power favoured. A moment later he looked and saw a large thorn covered hedge covered in his flowers, it was bigger than the rosebush he had just made, a quick look and he guessed it was about the same volume as his largest flower bush.

“Hm. As expected, your manifestation has an easier time creating it's unique flowers,” Dr. Aranis said. “Manifest a climbing hydrangea with your flowers in place of its own, you can use your first manifestation for support.”

“What's a climbing hydrangea?” Jay asked.

It took a few moments for the doctor to get a picture of the thick, ivy-like plant that had large clumps of small white flowers. Picturing it in his mind, Jay imagined what it would look like if it was his, and draped over the first bush.

The plant appeared a lot like he had thought it would, covering the bush like a blanket, but instead of his normal rose-like flowers, this one had smaller purple flowers covering almost every inch of it. While the doctor and his assistant went to look it over, and cutting off samples, Jay decided to check it out as well. The individual vines looked thin and pretty weak, but they were wrapped around each other so tightly it was hard to get just one, or snap them. Still when he did get a hold of a single flower, it broke easily enough. 

Of course it did, he thought while sighing. Nothing about his power was useful, unless he wanted to be a flower girl at a wedding.

“I hate my power. I might as well join the fucking Underdogs,” he muttered, as the lab guys talked quietly to themselves. In his pity fest, he forget about all the things Pippa had suggested he try with his powers.

An hour later, after more testing, Jay winced at the click of a machine that sent twelve needles poking into his arm. It didn't really hurt, but feeling the metal slide into his skin and muscle always made him cringe. Dr. Aranis didn't seem to care, he just watched the cuts heal up in a few seconds before tapping the information into his pad.

“Thirty seconds to heal all of them, you're a low regenerator 3,” Dr. Aranis said.

Low regenerator, even his healing wasn't good enough. Jay tried not to frown, which no matter how much he tried to change it always looked like a pout. There wasn't anything good about his powers.

“Your previous power testing in October didn't list any regeneration, and had you as likely to become an exemplar 3, maybe even a 4. Now you're an exemplar 2. You had a severe case of meningitis in November correct?”

“Yes,” Jay replied. He barely remembered getting sick. It had hit him so quickly and his parents had told him he nearly died a few times before he started miraculously healing. That had made his physical changes go from what was supposed to take years, to a few months, with the 'easiest' changes done by Christmas.

“Interesting. It seems your near death experience forced your BIT to go into overdrive, pushing the very low level regeneration that occurs in most Examplars to make you conform to your BIT image, to a higher level, which has mostly remained. This likely took energy away from your Exemplar trait, stunting that power at the level it was before the illness. It's very rare but has happened in the past.”

“So I had a chance at being superhuman, but now I'm stuck like this?” Jay asked.

“Yes,” the doctor said. “On the positive side, you now have regeneration and you're not dead.”

Nodding, Jay didn't really listen to the words, just wanting to not cause any problems. He'd had the chance to be superpowered and maybe as strong as Hank was normally, if his brother didn't cheat with his PK field. Now he was just a weak little girl.

It wasn't fair.

Walking out of the power testing area, Jay was happy to be wearing mostly normal clothes again. His jeans and light blue shirt felt too tight, his pants kept threatening to give him a wedgie, but at least they were pants. He only had a few pairs, most of them dress trousers, combat pants and track pants for the JROTC. His current pants were one of two pairs he'd been able to buy. The rest of his clothes were mostly skirts, dresses and tights. 

“Hey Calla, I'd like to talk to you if you have time,” a large, tanned guy with short black hair said. The boy was standing in a way that screamed military.

“Why?” Jay asked cautiously, noticing the size difference all too well. He also realized that he'd seen the boy at the airport, one of the guys talking to Hank and Storm Wolf

“I'm Mule, head of the Grunts and Cadet Captain of the Whateley JROTC. Your father sent a message saying you're going to join us, and he'd like us to give you a chance with the Grunts, the JROTC training team.”

He really didn't want to go with the older student, Hank had talked about Mule and the Grunt's a lot with their parents, so he knew they were friends. Being reminded of his brother was the last thing he wanted. But it was about the JROTC, and Mule had to be near the top of the cadet command, so saying no without a good reason would make a bad first impression. Smiling he said, “Sure, where would you like to talk?” 

“We can talk at Range 6. Has Lancer told you about the Grunts, training teams, and the JROTC?” 

“Not really. I know a little bit, but probably not enough,” he admitted.

Mule nodded as if confirming something. “Alright, as you can tell Whateley isn't a normal school, and one of the big differences are training teams.”

It took a while to get to Range 6, during the walk Mule had given him a fairly detailed breakdown of training teams, sims, and Whateley's belief in a firm knowledge of self defense by the time they arrived. Taking a seat in a room covered in posters and pictures, a fridge full of different drinks, neatly laid out tools, gun oil, and other things, Jay looked around while making sure to keep his knees tight together, and look like a proper, professional young woman.

“Relax a little, this isn't an interview,” Mule said, handing him a drink. “I want to get to know you, and work out some things that you probably don't want everyone in the JROTC to hear.”

Jay let his body relax a hair. “OK, what do you want to know?” 

“Lancer barely talks about you, and when he does, there's no love there. Seeing you yesterday with him, I noticed it seemed to be mutual. Can I ask what it's about?” Mule said it casually, seemingly not judging Jay on it, just curious.

Trying not scowl, Jay took a moment to think about what to say. “Sibling rivalry that got out of control. If you want to know more, you'll have to talk to H- Lancer.”

Cocking his head, Mule gave a small nod. “All right. We're a small group here, we have thirty-two JROTC students, so we all work together and there's not much room for hard feelings between us. We don't insist on people playing together outside of the program, and most of us who aren't Grunts, are just friendly classmates. Can you work beside your brother and follow his orders?”

“I can. But I'm not sure if he can.” Jay winced as the words slipped out.

Mule raised his eyebrow and gave him a long look. “I'll make sure he plays straight when he's around you. I don't like drama, and I won't let an older student take out a grudge on a younger one under my watch, especially when it's family.”

Nodding, Jay relaxed a little bit more. He may have screwed up by accusing Hank of causing problems, but Mule seemed to be firm on the no drama issue. He could live with that. “Thank you, Mule. I'll make sure to keep the drama at home.”

“Good to hear, Calla,” Mule said, smiling once more. “Now with the Grunts, we are the crazy kids who want to get into the military as a career, knowing we're going to be dumped into the worst situations possible because we have the powers to survive. I don't know if you want to join, but if you do, you will have to impress us before you even get a chance to try out. You have to show loyalty to your friends and teammates, a drive to succeed, follow orders, and when shit hits the fan figure out how to survive and succeed on your own. Does that interest you?”

Even knowing his powers were useless, the need to prove himself, especially against Hank, rose up in Jay's head and chest. “It does.”

“All right. Be ready to prove that you really want the chance through your actions. Remember Lancer is a member as well. If you can't work with him, don't even try out. He won't have a say in if you join or not, that's my call as team leader. And I'll make sure he doesn't try anything when it involves you and the team. Clear?”

“Yes, Mule. Thank you,” Jay said, his respect for Mule increasing a lot.

“Good. I will let you know when and if you've impressed us enough to get a chance at the team. Now lets talk about the Whateley JROTC and how it's different from what you're probably used to.”

Whateley grounds
Early Afternoon

Walking around the winter wonderland that was Whateley in winter, Dastardly was very grateful for her heated gloves. It was bloody Baltic, even with her warm tights, long sweater dress, and coat. She'd thought her coat was warm enough when she'd bought it in Liverpool, but it was not made for the colonies. She'd have to use some of her secret stash to buy some warmer clobber. All she needed to do was figure out how to change pounds to dollars.

She was making her wayfrom Dickinson to the nearest tunnel entrance that her map said would get her to the workshop. From there she could go do her powers testing. Wishing for a basement door from her cottage to the tunnels, she could only speed up trying to get somewhere warm.

A high pitched shout from a side path made her head jerk up from the warmth of the scarf that was loosely wrapped around her neck and face all the way up to her nose.

“Please, j-just bugger off and l-leave me alone!” a familiar voice said, easy to hear in the quiet, nearly abandoned looking campus.

Taking off at a run, Dastardly's pulse raced, and it wasn't from running. That was Ewe yelling, the sad little girl needed help.

Coming into a clump of trees that looked pretty with the path winding through them, but was almost as good as a jigger for getting outta sight, she didn't slow down. She saw Ewe lying in the snow, wrapping herself around something. Dastardly could guess what it was. And a big yob was laughing at the lass.

“OI! Ya cockwomble, donkey's arse! Whatcha doing to me mate!” she shouted.

The big lad turned to look at her and started laughing. “What the hell is this, are Santa's elves coming to Whateley now? And what the fuck did you call me?”

“I called ya an absolute dickhead, that loves being buggered by your bellend wanker friends, well ya wank off your baby cock, begging for more, ya fucking gobshite spunker!”

He looked very confused. “Was that even English?”

“Go suck ya dead nan ya fucking cunt, an' leave me mate alone!” she shouted. Now that she was close enough to hit the wanker, or get hit, she squeezed her hand twice before making a fist, charging up the shock devise in her glove in a special way for situations like this.

Laughing, he went to shove her back, but she was ready for it and jumped back. Moving to the side, Dastardly made sure Ewe, who was sitting in the snow wiping away tears, wasn't in the way, and that the wanker had his back to a thick tree.

“Look little girl. I'm Buster, nothing you can do will hurt me. It'll just make me stronger. Go away and I won't hurt you,” the bellend said.

Grinning, she began to snicker. “I'm the Dastardly Daughter. You're gonna wanna remember the name for when ya get outta the ozzie, ya bilge sucking spunk bubble.”

“OK this is getting stupid. If you can't speak English, I'm just going to have to show you why you don't mess with me.” Buster rushed forward to grab her.

Dastardly ducked and punched him in the stomach with her shock glove. Instead of putting all of the charge straight into the wanker, the devise worked differently but still as planned, hitting them both with with a taser like jolt of electricity. Hers was much weaker, sending her spasming to the thick snow covered ground for just a moment, while the arsehole flew backwards to slam into the tree behind him. He groaned, proving he was still alive, but he wasn't able to move from the electrical shock.

Stumbling to her feet, playing it up a little, but not much, she began to laugh. “No one fucks with the Dastardly Daughter!”

Still a little dizzy, she went to Ewe. “Hey, lass. You an' Rae OK?” she asked.

“Yeah na, she'll be right now, eh. Chur,” the wooly girl said, grabbing Dastardly's hand to get to her feet. Then, clutching her bottle to her ample chest, she glared at Buster and muttered, "Bloody marnus."

“Glad ta hear it, mate, let's get ya somewhere warm. An' remember, if that wanker or anyone else bothers ya, give me a bell, I'll make the bastards regret it.”

Together they headed for the girl's cottage. Dastardly hoped they'd let her use the tunnel, she'd gotten snow in her boots and it was making her right cold.

Crystal Hall
Suppertime

“Ya got a face like a wet weekend, Calla. Got a twat for an advisor?” Pippa asked, looking up from her big bowl of stew.

Taking a seat beside his friend, Jay just grunted.

He was happy they had the table all too themselves, he didn't feel like talking. They were some of the last people in the cafeteria thanks to Pippa having only just gotten out of power testing. He'd only decided to eat an actual supper because Pippa had sent a message telling him to come eat or she'd drag him to Crystal Hall by his ear.

“That bad? Me day started bad, 'ad a real toss pot for an advisor who was as useful as a chocolate teapot. Got into a little argument, an' they gave me a better one, an art teacher who was a supervillain, if ya can believe it. Things picked right up after that.”

Pippa sopped up some of her stew with a slice of bread, giving Jay a chance to speak. He didn't take the offering, just took a bite of his sandwich, glaring at his plate.

“Found out something interesting about me powers. They can't decide if I'm a 1 or 2 exemplar. The eggheads said I'm right on the edge, a wee bit better at endurance an' shite, but I'm never gonna be a tough lass. Bit devo'd, about that, some muscle would be nice, but it's good being able to handle some bevvy without passing out easy.”

Jay nodded along, not really listening.

“An' they found how me devising makes reality go in a tizzy. Something about getting more energy outta things than it should. So springs being ten times as good, wee little batteries powering a big motor, that kind a thing. Sounds right to me, when you're small like me, ya gotta have twice as much energy, twice as much brains, and twice as much guts as everyone else,” she said, sounding quite proud of herself.

“Easy for you to say when you have a useful power,” he muttered.

“What are ya numbers?” Pippa asked, suddenly very serious.

“Exemplar 2, regeneration 3, manifestor 3.”

“OK, you're stronger than me. Ya said you're in the Cadets, so ya know 'ow ta fight, right?” 

“Yeah, it won't do much against someone like my brother.”

“So ya know 'ow to fight proper. I just know 'ow to scrap. Eat up, we 'ave things ta do.”

He looked at her in confusion. “What do we have to do?” 

“I'm gonna kick your arse.”

Dickinson Basement
Evening.

Dastardly Daughter stretched a little on the mat that was set up in the little gym that the Dickinson girls used. Most of the girls were still recovering from getting back to school and catching up with friends, so there were just three doing yoga, one doing aerobics, and another one who was using a fake knife to repeatedly kill a dummy.

Across from her, Calla was also stretching in a track suit like her, but instead of looking excited, she looked confused and a little scared. Dastardly smirked, looking scared or nervous was only for tricking nonces and blerts.

“Why are you going to kick my arse again?”

“Ya got bad blood with your brother. I don't know why, it don't matter. Ya need to learn that shite like size and strength only matter for figuring out 'ow ya take down the wanker. I'm guessing you're brother is a lot tougher than ya. But you're tougher than me, and I don't 'ave me toys to play with. So I wantcha to see 'ow I don't go down easy.” Putting her fists up, she grinned.

Calla followed suit still looking uncertain. “OK, I'-”

Throwing herself at Calla, Dastardly didn't worry about stance, or proper positioning, or being fair. Slamming her shoulder into her friend's stomach, she shoved as hard as she could, while punching the girl in the side, knocking them both to the ground. A quick scramble, Dastardly had Calla pinned, with her knees on her shoulders, fist raised to start pounding her face.

“First round ta me. Never fight fair, that gives the wankers the edge.” Hopping to her feet, she helped Calla up, and got back in position.

Wincing and rubbing her stomach Calla quickly brought her own fists up. Now instead of a defeated look in the girl's eyes, she looked a little miffed, just like Dastardly wanted.

This time she waited instead of charging in. When Calla swung at her, slowly enough that a bezzied nan could avoid it, she ducked low and punched her friend in the thigh. Calla grunted, but didn't jump back or anything, just punched her in the cheek hard enough to make the room spin, forcing Dastardly to scramble away. The girl didn't let up, coming after her with blood in her eye.

Not seeing a way out, Dastardly spit bloody phlegm at her friend, making Calla recoil. Seeing an opening, she charged in, catching Calla's thigh and shoved her to the ground once again, where there was a mad scramble of arms and legs. Dastardly found herself with her neck in a headlock, and her nose being pressed painfully into an armpit. So she did the only thing she really could, bite.

“Ah! FUCK!” Calla screamed, letting her go and rolling away. 

Getting back to her feet, Dastardly was about to keep fighting, when Calla kicked her shin hard enough to make her fall down with a very painful yelp. She still got back to her feet a moment later, grinning and ready for more. She hadn't had this much fun since kicking the shite out of the nonces back home.

“OK! I think that's enough, you're both about to turn what looked like a friendly spar into a cage match.” The plain Jane lass who had been disembowelling a dummy with a fake knife stepped between them with her hands raised.

“That was a little rougher than I thought it would be,” Calla said, rubbing the spot where she'd been bit.

Still grinning, but also blushing a little, Dastardly rubbed her bruised cheek. “Sorry, wanted ya to get angry, stead a down in the dumps. It was working.”

“I thought girls hugged things out,” Calla said, sounding a bit whingey.

“Hugs are for Nancy boys,” she replied, still grinning.

The older lass looked at both of them. “So you're both good?”

“Yeah,” Calla said. “I think I might need to get a taser for my roommate, but I'm OK.”

“Right as rain. Happy to see me mate can throw a punch.”

“You're the new junior high girls, right?”

Dastardly nodded. “Aye, I'm Dastardly Daughter, and me mate's Calla.” 

“I'm Just Me, or Jane, take your pick. Dastardly why did you decide MMA was the best way to cheer up your roommate?”

“Me mate thinks she's too weak, I was trying ta show her being small don't matter none.” 

Jane shook her head and let out a small chuckle. “OK, that's a new one.” The girl turned to Calla. “Do you want to learn to fight better, without having to go to Doyle afterwards?”

“I know how to fight, I'm in the JROTC, they teach hand to hand,” Calla said.

“I saw, you have the basics, but you're too slow, and you leave your left side open too much." Jane turned to Dastardly. "And Dastardly, you're a brawler. You can take a punch, but that will eventually get you killed, especially with your size. Would you both like some help?”

“Hey! I've been in scraps before and came out OK!” Dastardly said, feeling insulted by the know-it-all.

“I can tell. I like the part about cheating, you're right that fighting fair gets you killed. But you still need to learn to dodge. Come at me.”

“What?” Dastardly said, pretending to be a right blert. Then she launched herself at the lass, trying to tackle her.

The next thing she knew she was flat on her back, the air knocked out of her and a fist on her throat. “You're dead,” Jane said, before letting her up.

“Boss,” Dastardly gasped, trying to breathe.

“So, do you want some fighting lessons?” The older girl asked.

Dastardly nodded, and saw Calla doing the same.

“OK, drink some water and take a breather,” Jane said, taking a seat on the mat. “Now, what was that at the start about having bad blood with your brother, Calla?”

Calla played with her water bottle for a moment before quietly replying. “I really don't get along with my brother, he blames me for some things that happened when he manifested, and he's had it out for me ever since. Now that I'm here, he's probably got a whole plan to fuck me over, and I'm too weak to fight him.”

“Who is he?”

“Hank. Uh, Lancer.”

There was a long silence as Jane stared at Calla, which made Dastardly wonder just how nasty the yob of a brother was.

“Well,” Jane finally said,” that's interesting, at least he's the weakest person in Team Kimba. He's a PK superman and a tough exemplar. If it was one or the other it would be easier, but if you fight smart and have tricks you can take him.”

“Really?” Calla said in disbelief.

“Yeah. Forcefields usually don't block liquids or gases. If you're in Crystal Hall-” Jane paused for a moment. “Are you planning on going after him yourself, or just defending yourself?”

“Defending myself. Why?”

“Because I'm in a little bit of hot water with security for taking out a PK brick before Christmas. I'd prefer to avoid getting on their bad side again. So I don't want to get into trouble if you decide to ambush your brother and cause some serious injury.” Jane leaned in to make sure her words were understood. 

Leaning forward, Dastardly asked, “What powers do ya have to take out a brick?”

“I'm just a shifter,” Jane said. Her body smoothly shifted into a well tanned bird with short black hair and bloody obvious muscles. “I have a few tricks, but strength and endurance wise I can only match a strong baseline woman.”

“So 'ow did ya take out the brick?”

“I threw a bowl of hot soup in his face, and then dumped two more pots of soup on him. I burned my hands, but he was in Doyle for a few days with third degree burns.” Jane looked at Calla very sternly, “Only do that if you're in real danger. If you do it just to get revenge and I get hauled in front of Delarose and Carson, I will kick your ass afterwards.”

“I promise I only want to defend myself,” Calla replied.

“OK then. Do you have pepper spray?” Jane asked, her voice far less threatening now. 

“Pepper spray? He's a brick!”

Jane nodded. “And his eyes are a big weak spot, you blind him and run like hell to security. Unless you're ready to kill or maim him, survival is the important thing. I'll give you a number for a gadgeteer called Incognito. Send him a message tonight or tomorrow saying I want him to introduce you to Alchemical. He makes a really good set of self-defense sprays, I'm pretty sure he's selling them now.”

“Ya can't bring us in?” Dastardly asked.

Looking down, Jane shook her head. “He doesn't like me much, for a good reason. So I'll let my friend handle the introductions, and don't mention my name. Now what powers do you both have?”

“Manifestor 3, Exemplar 2, and a really weak Regeneration 3. I make flowers and flower bushes. Pretty stupid right?” Calla said.

“Maybe, it depends on how you can use them. And you Dastardly?”

Snickering like Dick Dastardly, she proudly said, “I'm a devisor 3, a great one. An' they said I'm an Exemplar 1 whose right on the edge of a 2. I'm not worried about most people so long as I 'ave me toys.”

“OK, I'll focus on your hand to hand mostly. And Calla we'll see what your powers can do. Give me a minute to get some things from my room.” Jane jumped to her feet and headed upstairs.

Jay watched Just Me leave, wondering why the older girl was so willing to help them. There had to be a catch somewhere. Although it was good to hear that she didn't think Hank was impossible to beat or that he walked on water or something stupid like that.

He was surprised when a girl with glasses and shoulder-length auburn hair and freckles, came over as soon as Jane was out of sight. “Don't trust Just Me, she's really dangerous,” the girl said.

Pippa spoke up before he could, “What's wrong with the lass?”

“Her father was an assassin who killed hundreds of people. And in the winter combat finals, she nearly killed her opponent, gouging out his eyes and using some kind of poison on him before hitting him with a car,” the girl said.

“And he survived that?” Jay asked in disbelief. He knew mutants were tough, he just had to look at his freak brother, but all of that sounded really bad.

“He was a regenerator, but he was barely able to keep up. And she's an expert gunman and knife fighter. She had been pretending to be quiet, shy, and peaceful, but as soon as things got rough she was ready to murder a kid.”

“Sound, seems like she's a good teacher ta teach how ta deal with a cumfart,” Dastardly said, grinning and snickering like a Cheshire cat.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I'm Geist, I'm with the Intelligence Cadet Corp, we keep track of the really bad students on campus and make sure they don't commit crimes. She's one of the worst.”

“Boss!” Pippa said, clearly not seeing this as a problem.

“What?” Geist asked.

“Boss, it means great. Just Me is really sound now.”

The girl snorted. “Of course someone called Dastardly Daughter would like a criminal.” 

“Course. Bad lasses always 'ave more fun.”

Giving his roomie a slightly worried look, he realized she was using a little less slang which made her more understandable. Turning back to the new girl Jay said, “If she's as good as you say, I think I want to learn to fight from her,”

“Hello Geist,” Just Me said, coming onto the mat with a cardboard box.

The cadet's eyes went wide with surprise, but she stood up straighter and turned to glare at Jane. “I'm not afraid of you. I'm going to catch you in one of your crimes, or find proof of your murders, and get you arrested.”

For just a second it seemed like Jane's eyes turned blue, but then they went back to normal, and the girl just shrugged. “Good luck. I'm just glad you've finally come out and said it. It was getting annoying ignoring you sneaking around like a peeping Tom. Seriously when do you find time for homework? You're always trying to follow me or the Bad Seeds, when you weren't following Mischief around like a love struck stalker. All of you spy kids need a lot of help, and not just the psychological kind. You should ask Imp for advice on tailing people.”

Geist turned so red, it looked like she was going to explode. “You may think you're being so clever, but I know who you really are, and I will be watching you.”

That just made Jane smirk. “If you say so. At least this means you'll pay attention in the Winter Survival class. Maybe you'll finally learn something.” She acted really casual taking items out of the box, three little canisters, padded sticks, head guards and some thick gloves.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I'm the new Survival TA. They asked me to show them what I can do, and liked my demonstration. It's more interesting than mopping the cottage, so I signed the papers before supper.” Jane looked up at Geist and gave a truly evil smile. “I'm going to make sure you get really good at running and surviving.”

The annoying girl turned pale. “You're the TA? Are they crazy?!” 

“Don't worry, I won't use any real weapons on you outside of the sims.” Somehow Jane's smile became even nastier. “I had to promise to avoid annoying Doyle too often.”

Geist tried to say something, but nothing came out. Turning she hurried away, leaving them in peace.

Pippa burst into laughter, and even Jay had to smile at how effectively Jane had dealt with the girl. Still he needed to ask, “Is the stuff she was talking about real? Like your father, and gouging out someones eyes?”

Jane looked away, trying to hide a sad look, sighed and nodded. “Yes. My father was a monster, who taught me everything he could before he was killed and I went into hiding. In the combat finals, I was placed with the wrong opponent. He tried to kill me, so I had to seriously fight back. I almost killed him, but I mostly held back. If I'd wanted him dead, he would be. Instead I gave him a warning to leave me alone. Afterwards he was expelled and is now in a prison cell charged with aggravated assault. It would have been attempted murder but they want to keep the spotlight off of me, so they went with a lesser charge that was easier to prove, and doesn't require me to say anything.”

“So you must really know how to defend yourself, especially if they're making you a TA.”

“Yes. Now do you want to start?” Jane asked, sounding less than certain about how they'd answer.

“Abso-bloody-lutely!” Pippa said. “If you're as good as all that, I wanna learn.”

“What she said,” Jay said.

Nodding, Jane smiled at them and put the now empty box upside down in the middle of the mat. “All right. Just don't ask me about how to kill or cripple someone, I'm teaching you self-defense mostly. Now Calla, you can manifest flowers, do you have to see where they form?”

“Not really. I don't have to be looking to make them as long as I know where I want them, and sometimes they appear behind me if I get startled or annoyed.”

“OK, try this, make a flower appear in the box.”

Looking at the box, Jay tried to picture a flower appearing in the dark space. His mind tingled and he broke into a smile. “I think it worked.” 

Opening the box, Jane pulled out a small flower. “Good work. If you manifest a flower or two in someones mouth or clothes, it will definitely distract them. If you can make some thorny flowers, putting them into a person's pants and shirt will really cause them problems unless they're a brick. Practice manifesting flowers in smaller and smaller bags and boxes when you have the time.”

Next Jane handed them each a small spray bottle of pepper spray. “These are practice bottles, with very diluted lemon juice. It stings but is easy to wash out and won't damage the eyes. Calla, your regeneration will let you ignore it after a second or two; still even a few seconds of pain can mean the difference between life and death. They're using it in Survival class so I got a few to practice with them beforehand. Have either of you ever done some shoplifting, picking pockets, or magic tricks?”

Once again he saw Pippa grin and nod excitedly. Jay was a little less certain about all of this, but he was at least willing to try, even as he shook his head.

Jane smiled. “OK, when you're about to get into a fight, what your enemy doesn't see is your advantage. Let's practice.”

Dickinson
Lights Out

Combing his hair in bed, Jay was glad he had regeneration, even if it was a crappy version of it. He'd gotten sprayed in the eyes at least two dozen times with the diluted lemon juice, as he and Pippa practised getting the bottle up, aimed, and sprayed before the other one got them. As an Exemplar 2, Jay should have had the advantage, but his roomie was really fast and good at aiming on the fly. She was also better at palming things, than he was, when he'd asked why she was so good at it, she'd just smiled and snickered. So while he'd improved, and by the end got her almost as often as she got him, she was clearly more skilled.

Of course neither he or Dastardly had had a chance against Jane. Somehow she was able to switch which hand she was holding her spray can in without either of them knowing it, and would keep talking normally even as she brought it up to catch them by surprise. The freshman kept telling them that surprise and paying attention were the most important parts of surviving against a stronger opponent or multiple ones. And Jane had proved it by managing to avoid every attempt by him and Pippa to get the 'pepper spray' even close to her face, even when they worked together.

Through it all Jane had repeatedly proven she knew what she was talking about. The freshman was often ready with words of encouragement, and she'd taken the time to get him palming the spray can properly without getting annoyed at his clumsiness. But she was a believer in pain being the best method when it came to teaching the lesson, which was why Pippa was still in the shower washing out her eyes.

That wasn't his problem at the moment though. What had his mind moving in circles was how he felt about having to use pepper spray. It wasn't something he'd thought about when he was a boy. As part of the JROTC he was used to handling firearms and fighting, a self-defense spray seemed like something an untrained woman would use to feel safe against muggers, not an actual weapon.

But Jane used it, and she'd explained how it was the easiest way to slow down bricks without having to carry around explosives, dangerous chemicals, or lethal weapons. The way she had casually mentioned acid, gasoline, and phosphorus grenades as examples of permanently dealing with most bricks, as if they were something you would normally keep in your pocket, was kind of disturbing.

His thoughts went back to what Jane had repeatedly told them, they weren't bricks. Even being an exemplar 2 with regeneration didn't mean he was able to fight a really strong baseline, especially a large man on an even footing. Sheer mass, training, and a willingness to hurt and kill mattered a lot.

Jay was a tough thirteen-year-old, but he was JUST a tough thirteen-year-old, and he weighed about a hundred-and-five pounds soaking wet. Jane who said she weighed one-fifty, had shrank down, making her muscles and bones denser, and her center of gravity lower. Then tossed him around the mat for a minute, using just mass and basic moves to treat him like a rag doll. It was clear what would happen if he tried to fight someone a little more skilled than him who was even bigger.

The door opened and Pippa came in, her eyes no longer red, a towel wrapped around her hair, practically skipping, with a huge grin, despite the painful looking bruise on her cheek. She switched her housecoat for a long purple nightgown and jumped onto her bed to start doing her own hair.

“Oi Calla,” Pippa said, “sorry 'bout the whole kicking your arse thing. Ya looked down in the dumps, about being weaker than your wanker brother, I wanted ta show ya that a lot of it is in your head. Ya need to think about how you're gonna shove something nasty up the wanker's arse, not how they're gonna kick ya down. I guess I needed ta explain it better. An' getting carried away wanting to win too much, didn't help.”

“I figured that out when you bit me,” he said, rubbing the spot where he would have had a bad bruise if it wasn't for regen. He was glad his weak regeneration had fixed that fairly quickly.

“Ya got a good punch when it 'its. Gave me a few loose teeth ta worry about.”

He smiled a little. “Thanks.”

“If I get too excited fighting ya again, just give me a good thump ta the chin,” Pippa said.

He nodded, but didn't say anything for a while, focusing on his stupid hair that was tangled from the fighting. Maybe he should try the milk and eggs thing, Chain Mail had told him about the day before. Looking over at Pippa she seemed pretty happy with everything, snickering to herself a little while combing her own long hair.

“Pippa, how come you aren't afraid being so small and weak?” he asked.

“Being afraid don't help none,” the girl replied matter of factly. “Sure I may get hurt by some yob or nonce. But it gives me a reason to come back harder and nastier, so they can't do it again. Ya put me down, it just makes me angry. An' I don't fight fair.”

“But...” he stopped not sure what he wanted to ask.

She turned to look at him, bringing her knees up to her chin. “'ad me nose broken when I was ten by a bullyboy in me class. I coulda whinged an' blubbered, I burned the blert's flat down a few days later instead. Those nonces who kidnapped me, I set fire ta their whole building to get me and me friend outta there. I don't care that I'm just a wee little lass, nothing holds me down, and no one gets the better of the Dastardly Daughter for long.”

“I don't know if I can do that.” It felt like he was yanking out a fingernail as he let the words out, but who else was there? Pippa was the first person who had really talked to him after his changes started. His parents had just matter of factly filled out all the paperwork to get his identity changed, and began treating him like a girl with barely a blink. And there was no way in hell he would ever ask Hank for advice, he still remembered how his brother had freaked out and gotten the army chasing after him for a week.

Pippa put her brush down and moved to sit beside him. “First thing, ya gotta look at the whole picture. What can ya do? What can ya not do? What can the bellends do an' not do? And what do ya want ta do? Don't think about whatcha want ta have, that never gets ya nowhere. Then ya gotta start working on whatcha can ta knock the wankers down an' beat the seven bells outta them.”

Jay thought about what she said while Pippa softly leaned against him, the most physical contact he'd seen her do in two days, that didn't involve fighting. Her advice was a lot like what he'd heard in JROTC, you had to be objective, and not waste time with wishful thinking.

Looking down at himself, he saw his breasts just barely visible under the girls pyjamas he was wearing. Then he looked at Pippa, almost confirming to himself that he was in a girls dorm and no one was freaking out. And his stupid bangs were hanging over his eyes, thanks to the feminine haircut he'd been forced to get.

Everyone was calling him Calla, even he was when he had to say his name.

If he ran naked through campus, everyone would say he was a girl.

He was entirely a girl outside, and almost entirely inside as well. That was a fact, even if he wanted to deny it.

He wasn't Jay anymore, and never would be.

Silently he thought to himself, 'I'm Calla, I'm a girl.'

Turning to look at Pippa, Calla said, “Thanks. That actually helps a lot.”

“Happy ta help,” her roommate said, smiling up at her.