Void Guardian 2.5

Approach 2.5

I exit the bathroom, the door giving a low popping sound as it unlocks and opens.  I turn the corner and see my shirtless rescuer standing next to the bed looking about in a mild panic. In the soft early morning light from the window his sculpted abs stand out and the shadows throw his muscles into stark relief.  His panic seems to dissipate as he lays his blue-green eyes on me. I’m sure he’s some lucky girl’s wet dream with that body and those eyes.

“Morning.” I manage, trying to ignore the slight warmth in my belly.  Lingering frustration, no doubt.

“Oh--hey! You’re--how are you? Are you still…” He might not be panicking anymore but he still stumbles over his words in haste.  It’s kind of adorable, in a ‘hapless teenager’ sort of way.

He manages to stop the rush of words, and his brow furrows a bit before the question comes out of his mouth.  “Uh, did you have a change of clothes on you I didn’t catch earlier?”

He picked up on that fast.  “The clothes and makeup are all magic.  I don’t think I could put on makeup without stabbing myself in the eye or looking like a clown.” I laugh a little.  Then furrow my own brow in thought. If I didn’t have this magical crutch I’d probably make for a pretty poor girl.

That’s not something I want to dwell on.  I shake my head, banishing thoughts of feminine inadequacy and reach back into the bathroom. “By the way, seeing as I don’t need it anymore...” I toss him his shirt, a streaky green comet in the soft light.

He bobbles the catch and it ends up on the floor. He doesn’t seem embarrassed at all at the failure though.  Upon picking it up he flips it over in his hands a few times before inquiring.   “Did you wash this? You did an amazing job if so.”

I smile a little, hopefully in a comradely manner.  At last, someone else as mystified by all this as I am.  "No, apparently things I wear, as well as myself are made clean.  I don't know how often it happens, but it's happened twice since I changed.  Useful, but I don't know how to control it.  The bandages in your sink are also clean."

“That’s… wow.” He shakes his head and stops before looking slightly sheepish. “What’s… wow, I never asked. What’s your name?”

“You want my name with the ribbons or without?” I respond flippantly, but inside I’m facepalming. Why hadn’t I asked for his name earlier?

“Either, both? Whatever you want me to call you.”

“Well, you can call me Maeve then.” I snort. “Because ‘Guardian of the Void, Quasar Black!’ doesn’t really suit itself to casual conversation, and I figure if you’re doing me a solid like this you deserve more than the title.”

I frown a bit.  “I… if I’m being honest, I could use all the friends I can get right now.”

His response is a quiet, slightly morose “Same here.” before he seems to realize what was just said and pushes past it just like I have.  “Alright. Maeve it is.”

“What about you? I don’t suppose you actually are a Harry?” I give him a slight smile, but internally I’m a bit chagrined over my earlier quip.  He probably thought I was referencing Potter rather than Dresden.

“Ah-” is all he gets out before panic crosses his face and his mouth slams shut.  Seconds crawl by slowly until he finally says “... Riley,” with a look on his face that screams ‘I just made this up, please buy it.’

“Or…” he pauses again, clearly thinking of another name. After a second awkwardly long pause he manages to haltingly stutter, “Sentinel Green. Uh. Keeper of the… Glen and… and glade. … Sorry, I’m floundering here if you couldn’t tell.”

I can’t do anything but blink at a show of on the spot fakery that outstrips even the awkward teenage lies from yesterday.  “Holy shit, you are just as new as me.  I thought you were just inexperienced, but you haven’t even figured out your name yet.  And don’t tell me Riley’s the name your mother gave you.”

His smile is apologetic.  “It’s… it’s not. There are some… sort of complicated things going on in my old life right now that makes my real name sort of not a great idea, anymore.” He sags on admitting it, looking for all the world like I feel.

“Fucking puchuu,” I spit. “Seems like they give their new recruits a raw deal all around.”  I want to ask him about his complications, but that would probably require sharing my own less than ideal circumstances.  As kind as he has been I don’t imagine he’ll take me crushing a teenager with my car well.

“Yes,” he groans “Okay, so he’s universal, then.”

“I don’t know if he’s universal, but he seemed to speak as if he was part of an... organization? Cabal?” I furrow my brow.  There should be a word for this, I know it. “What do you call a conspiracy of unnatural critters that transform people into magical soldiers?”

His mouth quirks into a genuine grin for a moment as he snorts.  “The Magical Mafia? The Puchuu Posse?”

Then he seems to actually think about it, smile fading as he scrubs his hand across his face.  “Well. From one Puchuu victim to another, you’re welcome here whenever you need it. I-- I’m not sure what your situation is like, but I know at least most of this shit isn’t easy. Maybe we can help each other out.”

I try to regard him dispassionately and fail.  It’s pretty clear that the earnestness isn’t an act - he’s a genuinely friendly guy in much the same position as I am.  “I appreciate the offer, Riley.”  I hesitate before pushing on. “But I don’t think I have a whole lot of choice right now.  My family doesn’t recognize me like this and I’m not sure if the allies who were going to let me crash with them are even alive after last night’s clusterfuck.”

The gravity of that statement hangs between us for a moment, the silence stretching before I break it.  I try to force my voice not to crack, but it still wavers.  “Like I said earlier, I can use all the friends I can get and as of right now, you’re all I’ve got.  I don’t want to be a burden.”

He doesn’t flinch, exactly, but I’m certain he reacts to the words somehow. But his response is open, and while his tone is light, I can tell this has meaning to him. “You won’t be a burden. At all. You’ll be--a blessing, really. I’ve… I haven’t got anyone, either. I’d… like you to stay.”

It’s pretty clear his transformation hasn’t left him with anyone either.  His halting response is sincere, and the reflection of my own loss hits me like a hammer.  My heart aches in sympathy, and I’m sure my feelings are clear on my face.

He steps in and drops a hand on my bare shoulder, emotions I can’t quite grasp  flickering on his face. “So,” he says, his voice thick, before he clears it and continues, “I guess you’re my new roomie.”

He's touching me.  His skin is very warm and the touch is nice.  I… I don’t know what to do.  I freeze up, trying to think about my options.  If he were a girl I’d hug him for hurting as much as me, but he’s not and I don’t know how to lend comfort to a guy.  While I’m sure he’s receptive, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with giving him a false impression.  I could give him one of those cheek to cheek fake kisses?

Shit, he’s staring at me since I’ve just been locked up, standing here, looking over his head.  I better do something.  I shake myself out of it, and try to give him an awkward man hug - that one armed, afraid of lingering touch hug that dudes all over the Anglosphere have learned to avoid looking gay.  “Thanks.  Really.  I’m… grateful.”

He hugs me back and I’m confused. He wraps his arms around my midsection, and leans forward into my collarbone. It’s… oddly feminine.  My first thought is that he’s gay, but I think he’s been checking me out.  I’m not really sure what to make of it. I consider a couple of revealing comments about my own original sex, but instead blurt out.  “Well, I’d say it’s time for breakfast, but it looks like our only choices are instant ramen, lasagna, or Swedish meatballs and noodles.  We’re going to need to do some shopping later.”

It’s almost sitcom-esque how perfectly timed that blurting comment was, as his stomach gurgles noisily between us.

“I’m down for that.” he replies sheepishly. “That sounds… normal, and I’m really grooving on normal right now. If you’re up for that, so am I.”

I try to keep my tone light. We’re both not entirely happy about this, but we’ll manage. “Well, normal got left behind two days ago for me.  But unless you want to wait even longer to eat, your choices are ramen, lasagna, or Swedish meatballs.”

“I think I’ll go with ramen.”  I move to the kitchen and pull one of the noodle cups out, executing the meager prep on it without looking at him.  I can’t do anything but roll with this. For all my bluster about moving forward, instant noodles are familiar comfort food.

“Same,” he says.

I adjust slightly on his call, just pulling a second cup to fill and microwave. It takes me back.  Used to be I’d make money in high school selling these.  Bring a case, stash ‘em in my locker and then sell them to friends for a dollar a piece.  Had to get good at climbing stairs with a bunch of cups of boiled water in hand without burning myself.

I shut the microwave and as the cups spin and the appliance hums I turn, words on my mind to ask him how long he’s been at this. And I catch him staring at my legs.  Christ.  I might not be the most observant guy… gal now I guess, but I’ve been looked up and down by women before and it isn’t that different.  I feel like I should squash this now, but at the same time, he’s alone, I’m alone, and we’re each other’s only nominal friends.  Maybe just let him know he’s been caught.  If he’s as nervous as he’s been so far he’ll probably be embarrassed.

I cross my legs and arms, lean back against the counter, and give him an arched eyebrow.  I wait for his eyes to track up to mine, and they snap up quickly, and his blush odes any minor embarrassment he might have felt in my presence before, going all the way to his ears.

He doesn’t own it though - like myself at that age, he’d rather pretend he wasn’t just caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “Do--you cook? A lot?” he asks, instead.  “I mean, when we go out later to shop, what sort of things would you like to get?”

I add a slight smirk to my expression as he tries to move on, face still enflamed.  ”Well, I’m not much of a cook, though I can do some things.  We’re definitely going to need basics though. Milk, eggs, butter, bread, cheese, some kinda sandwich meat, condiments, rice, shoyu, probably some fruits and veggies to start with.  Maybe some ground beef and sloppy joe or Hamburger Helper mix. Eventually, some better stuff - chicken, pork or beef to freeze.”

“And that’s really just the start.”  I open a cabinet to show off the emptiness within. “I checked your cabinets.  You need pots, pans, utensils, and maybe a rice cooker. This place is pretty empty.  A trip to Safeway and then to Ross oughta do it.  Figure two, three-hundred bucks will get us a basic stock.”

He smiles, and his visage has faded from absolute chagrin to a bit more apologetic. “I… uhm. Don’t want to be ‘that’ roomie, but… when I transformed my wallet sort of… poofed, out of existence along with all my old clothes. I have a dead cell phone and a probably dead car to my name. And I don’t fancy my chances of trying to sell either of them for money, as my friends and family are probably on red alert for my kidnappers by now.

“I guess the bottom line is, I don’t have three hundred bucks. I don’t have three bucks.” he finishes sadly.

I shrug a bit.  “Nah, I get it.  I lost my wallet and stuff that was in my pockets when I changed too.  But it’s your magic, rent-free apartment that’s saving me from the street here, so I think you’re pretty far from being the one douchebag roomie.  I SHOULD be good for it, as the fuzzball promised me a salary of three thousand a month, though I have no idea how he intends to get it to me, or if I don’t get paid til after the first month or what.  Hopefully we can track him and the other girls down and maybe beat it out of him.”

I freeze as I realize what I haven’t considered. I don’t know if the girls made it out, but even if they didn’t, we need to get back to the Jeep, since my bag and case were still with them.  I frown again. “Shit, speaking of, you didn’t see anyone else while you were driving away, did you? There were two other girls there to fight the monster and they dug out fast once it showed up.  They kinda have my last few possessions.”

“I didn’t,” he looks contemplative as he tries to remember. “No, I don’t recall anyone--just you.  We can go back and look, if you think it’s safe.”

“Shit. I hope they made it out okay.  I tried to slow it down, but it seemed like it had plenty of strength left when it punched me at the end.  Maybe it stopped to lick its wounds though.”  Wouldn’t that just be icing on the cake? Meet up with some allies, just start to get to know and trust them, they run off and die right away. I hope the rest of my life isn’t going to be filled with friends dying.

The microwave dinged, and I retrieved the noodles, handing Riley his cup with a fork.  “There’s not much we can do till we get back, so let's just eat and head out.”

“Right,” he responds before trying to gobble the hot noodles and clearly burning himself.

We eat in relative silence before he asks  “So you’ve fought using your new abilities--what was that like? I mean, did it sort of… come naturally to you, or was it a lot of winging it on the spot?” He sounds worried.

I gulp down a bite of hot noodles before replying. “I’m not sure how I’d describe it.  Aside from one time, using magic has been like trying to do something that you’ve half forgotten.  Not exactly natural but not really something that you are fumbling blindly at either.  And I’m still discovering stuff. I didn’t know I could give myself clothing until this morning.  As far as I know I’m pretty limited without being, in uniform, so to speak, but I’ve found I can still do some stuff.”

I set my noodles down, crouch a bit and let my blood sing.  It’s harder now, I feel like I’ve just got a bucket, instead of the entire well, but I hop up and float down in an abnormally extended jump.

He smiles in delight, enthusiastically gushing. “That shit is amazing! Holy crap. I wonder if I can do that,”  and then he’s leaping like a moron.  It’s a decent jump, but nothing magical, and he laughs with some embarrassment as he lands.

 “Must not be doing it right. I’ve got some extra strength--but it seems to happen when I’m not expecting it…. Or it has to do with the outfit, like you said. Come to think both times I did something really impressive I was all decked out.”

I shake my head at his blast of enthusiasm.  I might totally agree that magic is cool, but I’m not gushing about it.  “You can probably do something similar with whatever your focus is.  I’ve apparently got gravity, so I’m just dropping my personal gravity when I make a jump like that, but I noticed I was pretty strong when I transformed, so maybe you’ve got conventional super jumping?”

He shouts, words echoing with power, in a familiar way. “Spirits of old, keepers of the glen and glade, I call on thee!”

His transformation erupts around him, filling the apartment with green light. The air is filled with the scent of pine needles as his outfit ripples into existence, pouches and vials appearing all over his body.  I try to hold back my embarrassment because apparently Sailor Moon got something right - you can see the outline of everything when this happens.  Everything.

I think I manage to cover it up with surprise when he finishes and takes a flying leap that scrapes his head on the ceiling. I definitely stop when I see his weapon though.  I walk a circle around him to get a look at it.

The head is enormous, it has some kind of crudely hewn edge like it wants to be an axe, but it’s just a big hunk of wood.  the shaft is mostly straight but gnarled and spiralling and there’s another faux-edge thing on the bottom.  “What is this?  It’s like some kind of impractical anime club/staff thing.”

“Beats me…” he says, drawing it and giving it a few swings. “Comes with the package. Do you have one? A weapon, I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.  Polearm, some kind of glaive.” Fuck, is my transformation similar? I mean, it’s only an outline but I DID catch him checking me out earlier.  I guess he gets a little show if I transform in front of him, but if we’re going to fight monsters together I’m gonna have to get over that.

I steel myself and call on my power. “Void beyond the deepest black, join with me to fight evil!”

That comforting warm blanket of nothingness wraps around me and I feel my clothing vanish, replaced by the hard quasi-armor of the corset, the stockings climbing my thighs and boots where there was previously no footwear at all.

As the transformations closes I keep my weapon angled, so as not to poke any holes in the ceiling. I feel invigorated and strong, stars humming softly above. And I realize he’s staring at my face intently.

“See now,”  he starts awkwardly before continuing in a less forced tone of voice, “Your weapon is badass and has a sharp, pokey bit. I approve.”

Wait what? What does that comment even mean?

He clears his throat and turns, tugging on various bits of his outfit like they need adjustment. Oh.  I wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t called attention to it, but my transformation is obviously similar to his.  That or this Victorian working girl getup is as bad as I thought, since it’s clear his pants need adjusting.  He tries to cover it by adjusting everything, but I’ve transformed a few times now.  It fits perfectly, every time.

When he starts contemplating his weapon and studiously not looking at me, it just cements it.  Was I ever this bad at covering myself? I mean, I’m pretty sure my female friends noticed me adjusting myself on occasion but you deal with abrupt erections from when you’re a child, you’d figure you could be more subtle about it than this.

Do I want to address the elephant in the room?  I do, but at the same time maybe it’ll be better to do it later, when we aren’t fresh off of meeting each other.

Okay then, we’re armored up. I grab the last of my cup noodle and down it.

“Okay Sentinel Green.  I’ve eaten, I don’t need to use the bathroom, and I’m ready to go. Do whatever you need and you can show me how to get out of here, because so far as I can see, there’s no door.”