Scald-Crow 1: Chapter 9 - Gas On The Fire

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Scald-Crow 1:
The Rocky Road To Whateley
A Whateley Academy Tale
by:
ShadowedSin
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High School is a living hell for Padraig, and his life is only made worse by bullying.
One night a powerful spirit offers him a deal, and his life is changed forever.
In a world where Superheroes and Villains are the norm, and mutants are hated by most of the populace
life get's complicated fast for our young hero.

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Chapter 9 - Gas On The Fire

Late Evening, October 28th, 2007 - Jameson Family Home

Corinne inhaled the last of her cigarette and doused the burning end in her ashtray. Usually, she would likely look for a bit of alcohol, but she was trying to set an example. The last two nights hadn't been easy. Balancing an angry teenager with a former husband who liked to throw temper tantrums wasn't easy. Miss Jameson usually only opened her preferred personally rolled pack of cigs only when she really needed them. It wasn't too shabby that her friend at a local smoke shop also hooked her up with some high-quality tobacco now and then.

She was in her father's kitchen in the same home she'd grown up in. Weird, divorce your shitty husband and you move back in with dad. Some might laugh at her, but as a Superhero and a mom, Corinne didn't have much choice. The death of her mother three years after Sophia's birth exacerbated her father's mental health to a point of self-destruction. Entire new chapters of his life were made clear to her that it was her mother, Mara, who was the rock the old man needed. Now that she was a nearly full-time member of the Alliance her father retired and stayed on as a general council working with the Lummi Tribal government. He also provided a steady father figure for Sophia and kept her personal ass tick, Michael Langley, aka Sophia's sperm donor at bay.

That was until the bastard decided to call.

There was no real way to put into words how much a marriage could fall apart, but it's best said by how he spoke when she picked up the phone. She knew it was him, this time he'd used his unblocked telephone and likely his personal mobile too.

"What do you want Mike," her voice cracked with emotion.

"What's this about MY DAUGHTER attending that freak school you did?" his voice was a low feral growl. Luckily after years of verbal abuse at the man's hand, she was used to ignoring it.

"The school you so lovingly call the best football ground in Whatcom decided to nearly expel a girl like our daughter for defending herself," she barked in return.

"Sophia was doing fine at that school, she practically ruled Horizon Middle School," came the riposte.

"It was great until she manifested and like me was left by the wayside like any other token girl on the cheerleading team," she snapped in return.

"Well, it is good then that I was able to push a few of my contacts in the BIA and rattle some information for you then, toots." She heard him from the other end. Seriously, which misogynistic asshole still says toots. What am I a cigar girl in a speakeasy?

"There was an investigation on the campus of YOUR school, some poor Lakota kid died." The words at that point caught her attention and her jaw tightened. I mean. Kids can die, it's not like we're perfect. But, there is no way that... Her train of thought trailed off.

"Got anything to say for yourself?" he asked pushing the issue.

"One, I have full custody, two, if you call me again and scream into the phone again I'm filing a restraining order that widens the one I already have. Goodbye Mikey, stop calling!" she retorted before hanging up on him abruptly. Her hands tightened as she placed the phone down and thought about stomping her foot. Or maybe she'd go for a run and just scream!

No. Mom instincts kicked in as she brushed some hair from her face and rubbed the forming headache knotting up along her forehead. Nah, she had some calls to make. I could call someone from Seattle. They'd likely know more since the cities bigger and there's that huge MCO office down there. Thumbing her lips she scrolled through her contacts and noticed she'd added Claire Westbrook of the Seattle Squires last year. Oh, shit...her father was shot and I never said a thing! She tried to piece together what she remembered of Claire's family.

Hitting the call icon she waited as the ring continued.

"Hello?" came a feminine voice from the other end.

"Hey um Claire, its Corinne Jameson, I'm an old friend of your mother's," she said with a wince. There was a small pause on the other end.

"Oh...you worked with her on that case involving the Yakuza here in Seattle didn't you," Claire replied tensely.

"Yeah." She sighed and said, "I also testified against her husband since we both have experience with abusive pencil dicks."

The frankness of her words caused another pause. Why did I have to call her blood-father a pencil dick?

"That sounds pretty accurate," Claire said in a slightly clipped tone.

"First, I want to say I'm sorry I didn't call to offer condolences for your father's passing," she began, "and I hate to do this, but I need to ask you a few questions."

"Okay...and thank you." Another pause on the other side, "What would you like to know?"

Corinne let out a quiet slow breath to calm herself before heading straight into another difficult conversation. A bit of it panned out with that she was looking for, a murder on campus and a supposed 'chosen one' for the native people. What drew her attention the most was the murder accusations and her eyes narrowed. Whatever had been happening on campus was more worrisome than she'd contrived from the usual alumni newsletters.

"An entire club dedicated to things cute. Has Hartford reacted to that yet?" she asked steadily.

"No, seems they are letting it play itself out," Claire affirmed.

"Okay, a bit of this makes sense from what I've heard among some of my friends across the country about a new important Shaman. But, from what you tell me my daughter is facing some serious problems," and the conversation continued.

She informed Claire about the situation in the North and about the near seizure of a young woman by the MCO. The two spoke at length long enough Corinne ended the call by saying, "We should catch up soon. What about lunch sometime this next month?"

"That sounds nice, I could use someone to talk to. Oh, and I'll let my sisters know your daughter might be rooming with them," Claire replied.

"I thought Anna was your only sister?" Corinne asked quizzically.

"My little sister Catherine just started Whateley, she was a little sheltered by our parents," came the quick reply.

"Ah well I will tell Sophia about this when she's awake tomorrow," Claire said. The two were able to say goodbye cordially before Claire hung up. Corinne rubbed her now throbbing head and considered lighting another cigarette. She eyed the clock and sighed at the time. I have to get Sophia up in under eight hours. They were going to be heading into the High School to fill out paperwork to remove her daughter and Sophia's records from the registrar. Corinne knew the O'Callaghans would be doing the same and so they considered helping each other on the manner.

What to do? She leaned against the counter of the island in the middle of her family's kitchen. Corinne braced herself as she leaned forward and considered once again lighting up another cigarette. No, not this time, she had to prepare for a long conversation with her daughter. And possibly some very uncomfortable questions.

She heard a creak. Her eyes shot to the doorway and she saw the shifting shadow as someone leaned back from the edge.

"Come out Lil' Wing, you know it's rude to eavesdrop," she said aloud. A moment later a pajama clothed Sophia rounded the corner where she'd hid.

"So how much did you hear?" Corinne asked pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Most of it, I didn't hear the part before Claire," she asked slowly, and added, "So you worked with the DPA? Seriously?"

"Yeah, I didn't want you to know about that part just yet, it's one of the reasons I left your dad," she sighed.

"Did dad hit you, mom?" Sophia asked slowly after a pregnant pause.

"Once...after he did that - that was when I took you here to Grandpa's," she replied.

"Wait...that was only two years ago....why did you stay with him?" Sophia asked.

"I did it because I didn't want to disrupt your life," she said quietly. Sophia ran over and hugged her mother around the waist.

"Thanks, Lil' Wing, I needed that." she stroked her daughter’s hair before saying, "So I guess we have a lot to talk about. You'll need to go to bed in a bit though so you get enough sleep."

"Okay mom," Sophia said with a smile.

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Just Before Lunch, October 29th, 2007 - Ferndale High School

Okay, here we go. I said this to myself just as I tried to fathom what I was about to face. Again I'd awaken early to be ready only to find my body still too sore to move. After snapping open my eyes I nearly crawled upstairs to my mom making some hot soup for breakfast. I ate three large bowls of chicken noodle soup and after my body stopped aching I got dressed and we piled into the car. Just mom and me, Lynn O'Callaghan and her daughter, Gráinne. Curled up in the passenger seat I listened to my mom singing along to the Beatles as we drove to Ferndale High School.

I shivered just thinking about it as flashes of my attack came to me. I let out a mewling whine and mom immediately turned off the radio and gave me a worried look. Biting my lip I said, "I...I am starting to have nightmares about them."

Wow, I actually told her what was happening. I looked out the window as my mom quietly drove for a bit longer before placing her right hand on my own.

"Baby," she began, "I think we should talk with Gerald and see if there's a trauma therapist on campus."

"I don't need to see a shrink," I replied stiffly. I wasn't broken, I can get through this.

"Yeah, Babes, that's a load of bullshit," my mom told me.

Before we continue, I want to cover a few things about my family. My father is a vocational counselor, he's the one who the state asks to help people keep their job when their injured on the job. Worker's comp? All of that was handled by a man much like my father. He'd even gone on to get his Masters in Psychology, his second Masters Degree. Did I mention I come from a family of over-educated nerds? I wanted to fight my mom's words and I could feel tears slowly filling my eyes.

Was I really broken inside?

"I'll think about it mom," I said slowly, "the therapy for my ADHD didn't help at all."

"You know that's different," she replied, "and maybe your diagnosis wasn't right."

I blinked, wait what? Slowly, I turned my head to face my mom and I was going to ask her a question but just then we pulled into the school parking lot.

"We'll talk more about this in a bit, but think about it," she smiled before turning off the car.

"Okay," I sighed.

Trauma, was not a subject I wanted to face.

"I understand my heart." Morgan's voice whispered in my ear. "But your mam is right, we need to confront our pain. And learn how to not let it rule us."

I filed away the thought as I walked beside my mom down toward the main building. Ferndale High School's parking lot was north of the main auditorium and just past the cafeteria building. The bell rang for the first lunch of the day and a rush of students were already making their way from the various classrooms to head towards the cafeteria. As a bunch from the junior football team appeared out of the gym I tensed. They were a hundred feet away, but I could tell by how they all stood together and it helped one of them was tossing a football in the air.

Instantly a heat enveloped me as my hand clenched into a fist and I grit my teeth. More flashes as I let loose a low growl and only my mother's hand on my shoulder stayed me from running headlong into the boys.

"Gráinne," she soothed carefully, "I know you want to punch them. I want to burn this entire school for what they did. But we are here to cut ties, not cause more trouble."

My mom was right, I let out a loud snort and shook my head. This wasn't the time, and I could feel Morgan biting at the bit, but barely holding it together like myself. Okay, we just had to get in and out. I strolled by my mom's side and considered hiding behind my phone. Today I was wearing a pair of hip hugger jeans I'd snagged on our last shopping trip and a black hoodie with a rose-covered skull on the front. Yup, time to up this goth to full-on! I grinned to myself as I pushed a bit of my bright red hair out of my face.

Mom opened the door and as more kids flooded out I tried my best to stay with her. You see the problem you often face when trying to get to the office when the lunch bell rang was actually getting through the flood of teenagers. Ferndale kids didn't give two shits about people heading the wrong way in their opinion. I instantly lost my mom as three tall seniors nearly shoved me out of the way and only my strength kept them from shoving me over. One of them gave me a wide eyed stare as I returned it with an indifferent shrug.

"Girl works out," the tallest of the three said before deciding to ignore me and move on. I needed to get a better look at myself, but I knew more change had swept over me since my visit to the Whatcom Alliance. I decided to trudge forward and make my way to the office and hopefully meet up with my mother. Walking back into the doorway of the main building caused me to pause just on the lip of the interior.

As I drew closer to the inside I felt myself freeze. Dread swept over my shoulders and crawled over the skin of my back. Hugging my sides I closed my eyes as a large hand suddenly enveloped my right buttock and gave it a hard squeeze. I whipped around as a snarl erupted from my mouth to come face to face with the last person I wanted to see again. Brad Finkbonner, his arm in a sling and I could see the stitches from where'd I'd nearly ripped open his cheek. My eyes widened to the side of plates as he looked at me and I could see him lick his lips.

"Damn girl," he said in the best imitation of a player he could be.

"Are you new?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow at him as it was obvious that I hadn't changed that much, right? I mean my chest was a bit bigger and my ass was a bit rounder, but I wasn't that different looking from when he last assaulted me. Fear was pressing on my chest as I could feel whatever composure I had collapsing.

"No," I squeaked as I felt my resolve falling away.

"Wait......you're the freak." He said and I noticed that instantly he reached out and touched my cheek. I shrunk away from his touch and instantly my right hand shot out to steady myself against the locker. The problem was I hit it hard and winced as a bit of pain returned my klutziness in kind. I didn't notice I had dented the locker, but Brad did. His eyes remained wide as I swear I could see a bead of sweat drip along his forehead.

"You're lucky you little fag you're so damn pretty," he leaned over me as I pressed my back up against the locker and his hand found a placed just to the left of my head.

"I'm not a fag," I said in a small voice.

I was stronger than this shit. Hell, I had even stood up to him and yet, his very presence was making me feel weak. More flashes, my head being pushed into his crotch as he reached down to unzip his fly. He loomed over me and his free hand over my right breast and palmed it. I let out a muted screech as I heard a voice behind him. As his hand touched my breast my eyes closed tight and I heard him say, "Damn you are a nice piece of ass aren't you Callaghan."

Upon hearing the boorish chauvinist comment on my attributes I firmly punched my left hand against the locker. My right hand shot out and grabbed the collar of his shirt. In a fit of rage I lifted the boy completely off his feet or at least to what I could see and grit my teeth.

"YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH ME AGAIN YOU FUCKING PERVERT," I growled through gritted teeth. I was going to break his jaw. There was also kicking him so hard I would render the shit pervert sterile.

I drew back my free hand and closed it into a fist ready to plow my full enhanced strength into his chest when I finally heard who was trying to get my attention. Dropping the little turd I backed away as my mom ran over and waved her hand in front of my face. I burst into tears upon seeing her and she embraced me on the spot.

"Brad Finkbonner, nice to meet you," my mom's voice was serious, "and it's great to see that you are as stupid as I thought you were."

"Wha - what?" he replied, "you're a freak of a kid assaulted me again."

He was stammering a lie and just as I was about to protest I heard my mom say it, "I saw what you did Brad. So did the School security feed.

Mom's hand jabbed out and pointed at the security camera peeking out from the corner of the ceiling and the wall just across from where he'd cornered me. Brad's face, that perfect chiseled jaw and angelic blue eyes, and did I mention his coiffed blonde hair? Yeah well, all of that turned ugly as his eyes widened and he got the look of a small child caught in their own lie.

"You're parents are going to love it that I have video evidence when Gerald Jameson includes them in the lawsuit we're filing against the school." My mom said each word firmly. "And you know what, I think this might even put you on the -sex offender registry-, you are eighteen aren't you? That means your little football future is now over."

The boy was gaping as my mom pulled me up and we began to walk away. At this point, mom was ushering me to the office so we could get done and get out of this hellhole. I walked along obediently in a daze by mom's side. We were soon inside of the office as my mom leaned across the counter while making a call.

"Good morning Gerry," her voice was saccharin as she spoke, "Yes, he tried to do it again. Can you get a court order to get the security feed of the school? You can? Good!"

My mom sat there as I closed my eyes. I found a seat a bit away from the secretary's desk and curled up to stare at my phone. An eternity passed as I heard someone enter, and I glanced up at the clock. An entire half-hour had passed, I scrolled through my phone's various apps and I tried to think straight. I wish I had brought my mp3 player with me, and that's when I realized I didn't have one. Sighing, I sat up as mom was quietly and concisely putting the secretary through her paces. Lynn O'Callaghan liked to always say that she didn't become a lawyer because she would use her mind for evil. Right there and then I started to see why.

"Oh, I'm not leaving until Gerald get's here, I don't trust you all," she smiled at the secretary. I considered looking into the music feature of my new phone, but I couldn't stop from just quietly watching mom work away on the poor secretary. It was weird, about five minutes later I found the silly internet browser and was busily reading through the headlines on the Seattle Times website. Nothing new was happening, a few new collars by the Seattle Supers, and a closing of the investigation into the death of a visiting Irish Professor. I scanned the article in question, and as I used my thumb to scroll through it I froze.

Sinead Maguire, Professor of Irish Language and Culture, that was her.

"That was my previous host. Someone killed her using...her shadow." Morgan's voice said to me. I felt a strange settling in my body and I figured it was my Spirit settling in my hallow. A few minutes later I shook my head as I heard Gerald's voice, and I realized he was here. Wow, I really was out of it.

"Who would have thought the school's security budget last year, because of the Overlord attack in Seattle, would play in our favor," the lawyer chuckled.

I had no interest at all in participating in the scene's playing out before me. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I shrank away when one of the faculty walked past me. Mom was now arguing with the School secretary and Gerald was happily watching the entire exchange. Honestly, I wanted out of school as fast as possible. I was starting to shake now as the flashes were becoming all the more real to me.

"Mom...are we - we almost done," I asked. After about a minute she walked over and took my hand in hers.

"You're cold," she brushed my face as I shivered, "Okay, we're getting some food into you."

I gave a slow nod as I closed my eyes, more of the memories. More tactile than before as I winced as mom drew close to me.

"Honey?" she asked me and I opened my eyes.

"Sorry, mom...I just keep feeling his hands," I trailed off.

"Okay honey, food and we'll talk," she said slowly.

Another nod, and another flinch. I wanted to get away from this place and as mom started to lead me out I heard her say, "Gerald can you take care of this?"

"Yeah Lynn, no problem, take care of your daughter."

The actual walk back to the car was a blur. I couldn't even focus at all as I shivered in place in my mom's car. The green Honda CRV made me feel safe as we drove away from the school. A few minutes later we were near the highway and pulling into the parking lot of a local grocery store. I smelled fried chicken as I followed after my mom inside. A few shakes of my head and reality joined me again.

"Wait, we at Haggen?" I asked.

"You really are out of it," she said after picking up a heavy bag that smelled of fried golden deliciousness. After a few more moments we were sitting in the seated area just after mom paid for lunch. An entire pound of jojos just for me, and two chicken breasts. The food helped me feel better as the warmth seemed to permeate my skin and ease the painful chill at bay. I felt like Harry Potter just after a dementor attack, and just as I exhaled a bit of steam from the fried hot potato logs I glanced around. There was no way those floating monstrosities were real too, right? I mean, I had a Celtic spirit inhabiting me and my new friend can use magic.

"No...dementors aren't real. But, boggarts are." I heard the words of my rider and I shook my head again. Great, so at least the closet dwelling monster was real. More flashes, the feeling of arms twisting around my torso as hands dug into the edge of my jeans. The jeans themselves being yanked down to reveal my new black boyshorts.

"Babes," mom waved her hand in front of my face again, "I lost you again. More flashes?"

I nodded a bit and immediately began ravenously devouring a chicken breast. The warmth seemed to keep the memories at bay for now as I wanted to just get some energy. I felt drained and the food was invigorating me. As I tried my hardest I was able to push the memories to the side as the ongoing panic attack threatening to erupt from my chest was kept at bay.

"Did you pull me out of Ferndale today?" I asked mom out of the blue.

"Yes, we're filing the paperwork to transfer you to Whateley this week," she told me. Another nod, and another affirmation that my previous life was over. Padraig was gone, and I had shed the false skin I once wore. The weight of my hair and the pressure of my bra reminded me of who I was now. I was Gráinne Róisín O'Callaghan, and as soon as we got my new name and my MID I would be moving forward in my life. Another step forward, and there was no way I was going to take two steps back.

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Seven P.M, October 31st, 2007 - Ferndale Camp and Conference Center

There was no way she envisioned herself renting a car under an assumed name and driving to a small middle of nowhere location far north of Seattle. The way how cities and towns were so spaced out compared to Europe was maddening to Bess as her hand gripped the steering wheel. Dressed in a black hoodie and carpenter jeans, she was about to do something rash in hopes of provoking the newest rider of her target. Just a few days after meeting the average man she was unsure how to proceed. The other target was not scheduled to arrive for another week or more, so all she had to go on was what she picked up from scrying the new rider's position.

A place in the middle of nowhere, home to a half-way decent American Football team. Scrunching her nose as she parked, the woman heard the crunch of gravel as she parked. The Conference Center was alight that evening, the evening of All Hallow's Eve. And as she shut the rental's door she palmed one of the reliquaries delivered to her by her benefactors. This one was about the size of a small ball and shaped like a jeweled pendant. A sapphire gem blazed in the middle of the square metallic piece of jewelry. Essence throbbed inside of the vessel and as she made her way into the meeting hall she smiled. With the amount of essence in this one vessel, she would be able to set a few things in motion.

"I see we are all here," cried the speaker, a middle-aged man dressed in a pair of dress pants, tie, and a white collared shirt. She didn't bother to learn his name, but she knew he was the local shadow-leader of Humanity First in the region. That wasn't hard to figure out as the face of the organization's chapter was the one smiling and offering handshakes on the way in.

"Thanks for coming, I'm Robert Dickinson, we need to stick together," she heard as she pushed past him.

"You all know why we've called this meeting and we understand it's likely to mess up your Halloween plans," the speaker continued.

"But as you know a long-time member, and supporter of our cause, George Rufus Finkbonner, has brought to our attention a new dangerous threat right in our own backyard." Just as the man finished gathering the crowd's attention he went straight into firing them up for the evening.

"She attacked my son!" cried a woman.

"She threw mine into a locker!" said a man not far away from her.

This is perfect if I can weave a simple rage working I can get them to do much more than whine and cry about their troubles. Bess draped the pendant around her neck and reached into her pocket to withdraw a small knife. As she focused her mind she turned clockwise while quietly intoning the elements. Her mind focused on the necessary thoughts as she started to mouth a rhyme under her breath.

"Ring around the rosy,
A pocket full of posies.
Get her, get her.
Or we all fall down."

Pouring gas on a fire. She smiled as the speaker wiped his brow free of sweat and drank a bit of water from a bottle on the podium he stood at.

"It's taken considerable work, but our friends in Bellingham, and in the county Government have informed us that not only is this danger going Scott free, but she's getting legal documentation! Where once was a boy now stands a freak of nature!" he roared.

A cry of what Bess could only consider homophobic ranting roared to life as she could feel the essence in the reliquary burning away. Her eyes closed and she imagined a miasma spreading out from where she stood in the crowd. Bess grinned as she could feel the thoughts woven in just as she spoke the rhyme one more time.

"Tomorrow we'll confront the family and ask for an apology to the Finkbonners for the lies they are spreading about our football stars," the speaker continued.

"We'll make sure it gets on the news," yelled 

Her eyes closed as she could imagine the miasma spreading further. Bess slipped the knife back into the front pocket of her hoodie. This is too easy. I should ask for more of these reliquaries more often. The pendant was almost dead of the stored essence. Without even batting an eye Bess took a step back and slowly withdrew from the room.

"We'll need everyone there tomorrow!" the speaker wiped his brow again and drank more water. "Mister Finkbonner is asking for volunteers to come and help provide support as he tries to speak to his son’s attacker."

She smiled as she walked past a few rows. Her thoughts quickly caused her to lose interest in the speaker and his little plan.

"We should do more than that!" said a voice as she passed, "we should make an example of her and her freak family."

The words made her grin wider. Thanks, Tone, all I needed was the essence, and now my job is done. For now at least. Brushing past the man at the front door she fingered the keys to the car while everyone was entranced by the man at his little podium.

"Stupid feckin eedjit sheep," she giggled as she turned on her car and pulled out of the parking lot.

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Late Morning, November 2nd, 2007 - Whatcom County

"All the evidence appears in order, and you agree you are not changing your name and gender for nefarious reasons?" the judge asked me. Who asks that? Seriously, I should just say, "Your honor I plan on mowing down an entire park of kittens and puppies right after this." But, luck was on my side because instead of being an impulsive idiot I spoke up and gave a simple, "Yes your honor."

It was the end of the week and days after my last encounter with Brad. Across those four days, I'd spent most of the time getting ready with my parents for my new school. There were supplies to buy as well as a handbook sent via express mail. It arrived Thursday morning and I was already overwhelmed by the amount of information. The idea of wearing a uniform was strange, to say the least. One of my friends, Raphael Griffan, attended the local Catholic Elementary School and his uniform didn't seem too bad to say the least. I was so caught up in thinking about uniforms and staring at the uniform requirements that I barely registered the people around me. My name was now legally Gráinne and my legal, as well as biological gender, was female.

Just as I walked out past the door I was suddenly blasted by a loud yell of, "There's the girl who attacked my boy"

Let me back up a bit here, I'm a five foot six, curvy, but lightly built girl. Mom is about two inches shorter than me and was a bit on the plump side. I was now shorter than the father I once matched height with, and while my hair did give me a nice presence there was no way I was that scary. However, just as I exited the courthouse, I came face to face with a blond-haired woman in her forties dressed in an expensive conform dress. Her ears bedecked with what I could only guess were diamond earrings.

I stopped immediately and my mom rested beside me. Sloan, who had decided to come along for reasons I'm not entirely sure of was the first to react. First, my dear little sister cocks a hip wearing her bell-bottomed black Hot Topic pants. The girl had a black collar around her neck as well as a black bomber jacket.

"So...why is Rachel from Friends screaming at us?" I snerked.

"Mrs. Finkbonner," my mother began and stepped to the side. That's when we noticed the small, but decently sized crowd of people just beyond us. Immediately, Sloan bolted back inside to grab the Court security officers, my mom, the ever defiant mother bear, inserted herself in front of me. Me, the rage-filled redhead who could deadlift four hundred pounds, being body shielded by her baseline mother.

"We'd like to speak to your daughter, Mrs. O'Callaghan," Mrs. Fink Bonner said. I tilted my head as I scooted around my mother and stood by her.

"Not happening, your son is one hairbreadth away from being charged with sexual assault." Mom crossed her arms and I could hear the gears in her head working as she said, "Do you really want to hand me more fodder for our lawsuit against you?"

"I didn't know you'd be here, I was here merely to speak to a friend on the County Council," the blond Stepford wife smiled. You know those fake smiles people get when their about to play maniacal stalker, yeah, that was the kind of grin the blond woman.

"Mutants are a threat to baselines everywhere," added a person not far behind her. And the crowd decided to flash a Humanity First placard and I backed up a step.

"He attacked me," I gasped. Not wanting to get near any of those bastards several of which looked a bit like the football players who attacked me.

"You're lying," the woman snapped in reply.

Just as the mob started to close in toward us, my sister walked out with three uniformed police officers behind her. Sloan's hair was dyed purple at the time, and she looked damn heroic. She walked by and took my hand in hers and linked hands with my mother.

"Your stupid fucking son attacked my big sister," she snarled, "and now you're showing where he got his brains. Walk home malibu, not everyone is a degenerate like you."

"Your parents named your sibling well. She's as spirited and sharp-tongued as anyone I knew." Morgan's chuckled in my ear as my sister completed her quip.

"You little cretin," the woman neared us and looked about to say something as a uniform blocked her path.

"Miss, I'm sorry to form you, but this is verging on witness tampering." The Officer informed the woman, and as the other two began to wave off the crowd we made our escape.

After being assaulted again by her kid, I wanted to get one last good view of the woman as we made our escape. I turned around and just as I gazed at her - her eyes met mine. She smiled at me, not the weird shit-eating grin from earlier. It was like I was walking straight into a trap or something. I took my time to get a good solid view of the situation and of all my surroundings. There was no one around us outside of the protesters and the three uniformed Officers. Whatever, the woman was smiling about unnerved me to no end. Morgan herself growled in my ear as we turned to get in my mom's car. It was time to put the past behind us, and get as far away from reminders of it as fast as possible.

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Comments

Red flag, Gráinne

Podracer's picture

Not out of the woods yet, it would seem. The sooner they get on the case of the assassin the better, as well.
Aye, "spirited" runs in the family; Morgan could have fetched up in worse.

Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."

Yes, I do love a good

ShadowedSin's picture

Yes, I do love a good cliffhanger with a side of - 'QUESTION!" I am very happy I'm leaving you on your toes as I'm working on Part 2 of Scald 2 as fast as I can :D

"I like to be creative in a fight. It gets my juices going."
-Xena Warrior-Princess of Amphibolis

Dullards

Jamie Lee's picture

Bess is right, H1 are a bunch of sheep. Willing to let others think for them and willing to do whatever another says.

Witnesses know Gráinine was attacked first, and whatever happened to that pig was his own doing.

Others have feelings too.

Exactly, one of the Dullahan

ShadowedSin's picture

Exactly, one of the Dullahan's best powers is manipulating - chaos.

"I like to be creative in a fight. It gets my juices going."
-Xena Warrior-Princess of Amphibolis

A mob has no brains,

Wendy Jean's picture

But it does have an appetite for blood.