Here're a few pieces from various Evangelia stories I started but never finished.
Minuet asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.
I said yes, of course, without thinking about it. How could I not say "yes"? Min's kind of like the big sister I never had.
But maybe I should've thought about it first. Because now I have a big problem. I'm sixteen years old and my parents don't know I'm a superhero. There's no way I can show up at what's going to be Paragon City's wedding of the year, in the freakin' bridal party yet with, what, half a dozen other superheroes, get my picture taken, show up in the papers and on television, and not have my folks wonder -- why did these big important superheroes include their little girl in their wedding, and just how does she know them?
I'm going to have to show them the invite that Min promised to fake up for me, after all, so they know I'm really invited. There's no way around that, not if I want to go. But my parents are far from dumb. They'll connect the dots. Oh, they won't recognize me -- the transformation magic hides my identity from everyone except witnesses to the change -- but when they can't find me in the wedding photos, they'll know I'm someone in a cape.
And there are only so many slender, perky 5-foot-2 teenaged blondes in the Legendary.
I spent an entire duty shift at our base talking to Alastair about it. Alistair's not been around as much as he used to be when I was just starting out -- now that I'm clearance 47 and the leader of almost 150 other superheroes I guess he figures that I don't need nearly as much hands-on guidance as I did when I first got my sword. Mostly these days he seems to like hanging around with Gil MacHeath, who's one of the two or three members of the Legendary besides me who can actually see Alistair. Well, former member in his case. (I don't complain because, honestly, Alistair is a bit of a nag at times, and weirdly enough the two work together well.) But somehow he always knows when I need someone to talk to about stuff I can't go to my folks for, and sure enough, I'll turn around and find a penguin waiting for me.
Yeah, a penguin. Other magical girls get cats, or ferrets, or weird little blobby things that live in their cell phones. I get -- got -- a penguin.
An invisible penguin.
With a British accent.
(You know what's sick? After everything I've been through in the last year-plus, Alistair's probably the most normal thing in my life!)
I used to worry that I was going crazy.
That's a bad thing, you know, when at the same time you've just gotten superpowers. I mean, you see it in the movies all the time -- guy turns invisible, or learns how to walk through walls, or gets x-ray vision, and the next thing you know, he flips out and goes around murdering his friends in all sorts of yucky ways that have to do with the power that's rotting his brain.
What was it they said in that one story? "With great power comes great insanity."
(Gee, you'd think the folks in Hollywood had something against us super types, with how many times that little moral pops up.)
Anyway, as those stories usually go, the guy with the power (whatever it is) gets a week or so to go, "oh, cool, looky what I can do" before the big Nutso switch gets flipped in his head and he starts leaving pieces of his fiancee in people's mailboxes.
I didn't even get to have the week grace period. I got the crazy-worry first, then the superpowers. With about five minutes in between.
That's how long it took the penguin to tell me that I was Magical Princess Evangelia.
I shoulda booted the little fucker out the window before he did anything else.
...
I know the people around me don't think so, and that's ... well, that's kind of reassuring, you know? But none of them are exactly what you'd call, like, mental health professionals, so I can't exactly take their opinions as the last word.
Besides, a lot of them seem to look up to me.
Me!
Talk about crazy.
Which we were.
Looney Toons seems to be crazy -- but it's all a "scare the bad guy" act. When we're back at base, the whole gonzo nutcase thing just goes away and he's, like, that cool uncle you never get to see enough of.
Superball is more than crazy, he's friggin' nuts. What Looney Toons does in the field, Superball does all the time.
And Yukiyo's worse than him, sometimes.
Thank God.
If it weren't for Superball and Yukiyo, I'd really be convinced I'm crazy.
I'm still not sure, though.
I mean, I've asked around.
Far as I can tell, I'm the only person in Paragon City with an invisible talking penguin.
'Course, he goes with the super powers I got when he first showed up.
And I'm still not quite sure how I ended up with, like, a hundred and fifty grownups calling me "Boss". Including Abraham freaking Lincoln.
And if that's not crazy, I don't know what is.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
Minuet asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.
I said yes, of course, without thinking about it. How could I not say "yes"? Min's kind of like the big sister I never had.
But maybe I should've thought about it first. Because now I have a big problem. I'm sixteen years old and my parents don't know I'm a superhero. There's no way I can show up at what's going to be Paragon City's wedding of the year, in the freakin' bridal party yet with, what, half a dozen other superheroes, get my picture taken, show up in the papers and on television, and not have my folks wonder -- why did these big important superheroes include their little girl in their wedding, and just how does she know them?
I'm going to have to show them the invite that Min promised to fake up for me, after all, so they know I'm really invited. There's no way around that, not if I want to go. But my parents are far from dumb. They'll connect the dots. Oh, they won't recognize me -- the transformation magic hides my identity from everyone except witnesses to the change -- but when they can't find me in the wedding photos, they'll know I'm someone in a cape.
And there are only so many slender, perky 5-foot-2 teenaged blondes in the Legendary.
I spent an entire duty shift at our base talking to Alastair about it. Alistair's not been around as much as he used to be when I was just starting out -- now that I'm clearance 47 and the leader of almost 150 other superheroes I guess he figures that I don't need nearly as much hands-on guidance as I did when I first got my sword. Mostly these days he seems to like hanging around with Gil MacHeath, who's one of the two or three members of the Legendary besides me who can actually see Alistair. Well, former member in his case. (I don't complain because, honestly, Alistair is a bit of a nag at times, and weirdly enough the two work together well.) But somehow he always knows when I need someone to talk to about stuff I can't go to my folks for, and sure enough, I'll turn around and find a penguin waiting for me.
Yeah, a penguin. Other magical girls get cats, or ferrets, or weird little blobby things that live in their cell phones. I get -- got -- a penguin.
An invisible penguin.
With a British accent.
(You know what's sick? After everything I've been through in the last year-plus, Alistair's probably the most normal thing in my life!)
I used to worry that I was going crazy.
That's a bad thing, you know, when at the same time you've just gotten superpowers. I mean, you see it in the movies all the time -- guy turns invisible, or learns how to walk through walls, or gets x-ray vision, and the next thing you know, he flips out and goes around murdering his friends in all sorts of yucky ways that have to do with the power that's rotting his brain.
What was it they said in that one story? "With great power comes great insanity."
(Gee, you'd think the folks in Hollywood had something against us super types, with how many times that little moral pops up.)
Anyway, as those stories usually go, the guy with the power (whatever it is) gets a week or so to go, "oh, cool, looky what I can do" before the big Nutso switch gets flipped in his head and he starts leaving pieces of his fiancee in people's mailboxes.
I didn't even get to have the week grace period. I got the crazy-worry first, then the superpowers. With about five minutes in between.
That's how long it took the penguin to tell me that I was Magical Princess Evangelia.
I shoulda booted the little fucker out the window before he did anything else.
...
I know the people around me don't think so, and that's ... well, that's kind of reassuring, you know? But none of them are exactly what you'd call, like, mental health professionals, so I can't exactly take their opinions as the last word.
Besides, a lot of them seem to look up to me.
Me!
Talk about crazy.
Which we were.
Looney Toons seems to be crazy -- but it's all a "scare the bad guy" act. When we're back at base, the whole gonzo nutcase thing just goes away and he's, like, that cool uncle you never get to see enough of.
Superball is more than crazy, he's friggin' nuts. What Looney Toons does in the field, Superball does all the time.
And Yukiyo's worse than him, sometimes.
Thank God.
If it weren't for Superball and Yukiyo, I'd really be convinced I'm crazy.
I'm still not sure, though.
I mean, I've asked around.
Far as I can tell, I'm the only person in Paragon City with an invisible talking penguin.
'Course, he goes with the super powers I got when he first showed up.
And I'm still not quite sure how I ended up with, like, a hundred and fifty grownups calling me "Boss". Including Abraham freaking Lincoln.
And if that's not crazy, I don't know what is.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.