Masks XXIII: The Obscenity in the Ice

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part One

Summer, 2016

Laurie felt great. In fact, she had risen from bed that morning feeling twenty years younger. She thought she even looked better in the mirror. Maybe this was all due to the excellent weather, but she had a suspicion. A hope.

Her brother kept accusing her of being wild and undisciplined. He didn't understand that she had plenty of discipline; her priorities were just different from his. In this case, those priorities meant taking care of the animals on the estate, then getting her own breakfast before doing a few other things which should not be put off. After finishing her morning chores, she left her home in the old carriage house and hurried with renewed vigor towards the trail to the marsh. Laurie reflected with dry humor on how many people - including the new owners - incorrectly called this part of the property "The Swamp." Oh, there were trees all around the multi-acre area where she was headed, and it did segue into a true swamp to the southeast. However, the specific part where she now headed was actually a marsh. As well as being much, much more.

Even as she crossed the vague boundary between solid, dry land to increasingly wet and inconstant terrain, she felt the difference. Which grew as she approached that vague border. Someone following her would have been puzzled, as they pushed through some overhanging willow branches and saw nothing ahead but standing water with damp ground in a few raised areas, but no Laurie. For she was no longer on the Earth proper.

With her brother Hiram long gone and Laurie cut out of most of the family fortune by his manipulations, the old mansion and its property had been threatened by several forms of development over the past few decades. Those had all failed, for multiple reasons. The entire estate was eventually bought by a wealthy older couple who loved nature and had turned the wild area - forest, marsh and swamp - into a private preserve. They continued their work, now living far beyond their expected lifespans. They suspected this was partly due to the property, itself. The previous owners had reputations for long, healthy lives and unusual vigor. Hiring Laurie as caretaker and remodeling the old carriage house as a home for her had certainly not hurt their lifespans.

As for why no developers had carried through on buying the land, perhaps it was considered too expensive to drain. Perhaps there would have been too much fuss from conservationists. Perhaps there was too much history for even the financially ambitious to ignore. Or perhaps...

For centuries, those who had dared the wet areas of the region had spoken in awe of the strange creatures there, claiming that many of them were supernatural. That some could even speak and understand speech. Then there were the tales from those who ventured even further. Of seeing a pair of barefoot elven maids, dressed in silken gowns which somehow remained pristine despite the muck and mire, who would laugh and dance lithely and lightly away, leaving their clumsy, merely human pursuers sinking in the wet, heavy soil. As if it were some living thing, protecting them...

Of course, there were also tales of those humans who didn't return...

All those, however, came from events which had happened decades or even centuries before. Well before the time of Laurie and her brother, who had often promoted the tales to keep their playground private. Then had come the rupturing, thanks to her brother's greed... The years after had been bleak for Laurie, but she had learned to make do.

Now, though, things felt the way they had back then. Laurie wondered if this revival had anything to do with the vague news accounts of demon invasions. Or perhaps her brother had done something right, for once.

Laurie took her shoes and socks off and left them on a surprisingly familiar bit of raised ground covered in a glorious mix of wild plants, many of them flowering. Standing there, she took a moment to look around, and smiled.

An enormous, solid black cat - so black even her whiskers seemed to be made of glittering ebony - lay comfortably on a branch of one of the last, stunted trees before the true marsh.

"Midnight Mamma!" said Laurie, delighted.

The big feline cat-blinked affectionately at Laurie, and her purr was audible even from where the girl - no longer an old woman, but a girl - stood.

Some of the ancient cat's descendants still lived on the property, mostly around the carriage house. Through many generations, their eerie, near-total blackness had made them popular with local cat aficionados, but Laurie never sold them. If one of the cats took a liking to someone, the human was welcome to take the feline home. Such a lack of concern for monetary matters being part of the reason for her brother's scorn for her.

Laurie turned and looked in another direction.

"Peter Paul Mound!" she exclaimed.

The lump of wet earth stirred, opening eyes and looking at Laurie. If its welcome was more grudging than that of Midnight Mamma, it was just as miraculous. As with the cat, the strange, earthen creature was far older than the names Laurie had given them when she was a child, but they answered to them.

There was one final check. Laurie raised her hands and felt her ears. They were topped by points, as she had hoped would be the case but until then had feared would not be.

Laurie laughed and laughed...

She laughed for the pure joy of knowing that the magic was back. Then she scowled. Because this also meant her brother was back. Well, Heaven - or less welcoming places - help him if he tried any of his nonsense here. Not now. Not with the magic returned to her.

* * *

May, 2019

The wedding of Vic and Melissa took place in a local park, not far from the college and their shared apartment, in the early afternoon of a beautiful day. Their actual marriage had been performed through a civil ceremony at the Justice of the Peace that morning; this event was mainly to let their friends help them celebrate the union. As part of that, all attendees were told that costumes were welcome. Many who were not supers dressed in various non-traditional ways because of this. A surprising number - of multiple genders and orientations - were in drag. Some of the passersby were obviously confused. Both subjects of the ceremony were in gowns, with Vic wearing the long fall Michelle had given her.

The event offended many, though the reasons they took offense were varied. The offense came partly from the fact that both of those getting married were women. Part of it came from the fact that Vic, the person performing the ceremony, one of the bridesmaids and several in the audience were supers. Part of it came from the fact that those offended couldn't find enough others also offended - at least, over the same thing - to get a good protest going. Later, a few of them complained to the Press that they hadn't been given enough notice by those responsible for the heresy to mount a proper reaction. As well as that some misinformed people were there protesting the wrong things.

The vows were co-written by Michelle and Vic, with some help from the friends of both. They were poetic, short, to the point and beautiful. Doro performed the ceremony, with Brade's blessing. "You may kiss the bride." was about the only traditional part of the usual ceremony they kept in. Both Melissa and Vic obeyed.

Energia - except for her mask and gloves dressed like the other bridesmaids, of whom there were twice the usual number, due to both partners being brides, with no groomsmen - very deliberately did not catch either bouquet. Vic's sister Joline did, to her obvious own surprise. There was no garter worn by either partner.

"I am so glad the Press wasn't here," said Energia, to the happy couple, at the wedding reception. She glanced at the few who were shouting and waving signs, who were being kept well away by park security. "I just wish those idiots weren't here, either."

"Well, same-sex marriage isn't nearly the news these days it used to be," said Template, one-arm hugging Colossa. She glanced in the same direction. "Just be glad there are so few protestors. Probably for the same reason."

The aunt and niece supers - in very different types of costumes - began wandering around. They congratulated Vic's and Michelle's family members, while enjoying a very good if non-alcoholic sparkling white grape juice. The cake had been cut and the gifts had been opened and there were plans afoot to spirit the newlywed couple away for their honeymoon. Neither Template nor Energia were part of those plans, and not the least bit bothered by that.

"Still, I think we all got off lucky, especially with such a public event," said Energia, nodding. She stopped and clinked glasses with her aunt. "Anyway, here's to a happy marriage!"

"I'll drink to that!" said Template, laughing.

Rapscallion came sidling up to the pair.

"I thought sure Constantine would be here," he said, peering around. "Don't see him, though. He's not very good at disguise, either. One typical mastermind ability he doesn't have."

"I think that older woman over there in the very nice dress is the head of his Boston embassy," said Template. "I'm not sure, but..."

She trailed off on the realization that the Intrepids' team joker was already gone.

"Oh, I hope he doesn't cause an international incident," said Energia, laughing.

"At least Constantine does have a sense of humor."

* * *

May, 2019

In contrast, the Master's Degree graduations of Vic and Energia a few weeks later were almost an anticlimax. They had both been through the full ceremony for their Bachelor's Degree graduations, so that was entirely understandable.

Nevertheless, they participated in the full ceremony, with friends and family in the audience, and there was a group celebration later. One person not there was Doctor Gadgetive. Due to an unfortunate coincidence, she was getting her sheepskin this same day.

Oh, well; Tricorne was getting together as a full-time, official hero team in a couple of weeks, with Vic already scheduled as a special guest. There would be a mutual party for all the graduates then.

* * *

Summer, 2019

Now that she was working for the Bureau of Special Resources full time as an official federal agent, Vic made a special effort to know and be known by local police. Especially those whom she would actually be aiding or asking for help, whether on the street or in the local precincts.

"I hear you're working for the FBI, now that you've graduated," said Sergeant Berkowitz, when Vic made a stop at the front desk at the main police station on her way out.

The martial artist super fed was wearing her armor, having just helped the local SWAT team capture a wanted criminal. Thanks to her, he had been taken alive, despite stating flatly and repeatedly before and during the event that he wanted to die in a police shootout. He had been wounded, though, and taken to a local hospital. None of those who stopped him had been seriously injured. Vic had subsequently come to the main police station to give her report. On the way out she stopped - helmet in hand - to speak with the desk sergeant.

"No, I'm still with the Bureau of Special Resources," said Vic, idling watching the comings and goings in this late afternoon period. Things weren't very busy right now, which was why she had decided to do more than just wave on the way out. "Working full-time for them, now. I'm the only super agent they have in this town, though there are some non-super field and office agents. They were the ones who relayed the city's request for super help with that SWAT team action. Their office is, naturally, in the local federal building, where the FBI is based, but that's true for several other federal agencies, as well."

"Huh. Looks like my source misunderstood."

"Whoever it was wouldn't be the only one. People see me there - especially when I'm in my armor - and 'FBI' pops into their heads, for some reason. Anyway, I wanted to check on that DUI arrest my friend Energia is connected with."

"Yeah, you're both pretty behind on that, but given what's happened with the case that's not surprising," said the Sergeant. He sighed and shook his head. "Speaking of nutcases, after doing everything he could to delay the preliminary hearing, the guy is now trying to have the charges dismissed because Energia is a 'lying Jew.'"

"Wait, what?!" said Vic, startled and outraged. "Her teammate, Gadgetive, is a non-practicing Jew, but I'm pretty sure Energia isn't. Even if she was, how would that discredit her?! Even if it did, most of the evidence against the guy comes from other sources! He blew over point-one blood alcohol, and that was after delaying for more than an hour."

She remembered that Sergeant Berkowitz was Jewish, and wondered if he were just venting to a friendly ear.

"Hey, bigotry isn't rational," said the desk sergeant, philosophically. "Why should bigots be?"

"Incredible," said Vic, slowly shaking her head. "What's the judge in the case say?"

"Well, after the guy's attorney quit in disgust, Judge Walker gave him a week to get another one. When he said he'd represent himself the judge said either get a lawyer or change his plea to guilty. The guy then demanded the judge recuse himself, due to being 'a Jew lover.' Witnesses say the guy was probably drunk in court."

"Oh, my God..." said Vic, stunned. She shook her head again. "I hope they throw the book at the guy for pulling that crap."

"That's the way it's looking. The judge said that if the guy didn't get a properly certified attorney - and he can definitely afford one - the city would just change his plea to guilty and go directly to sentencing. Oh, and that would probably require him to go to rehab."

"Ow. I sense several appeals in the future. Though hopefully the guy gets sober."

"Amen."

* * *

Thanks to her work with police, Vic got home a bit late that evening.

"Hello, Mrs. Peltior!" Vic called out cheerfully, as she entered their tiny apartment.

They had discussed multiple, important subjects before their marriage a few months earlier. One of those was what their married names should be. Vic was surprised when she learned that Michelle wanted to change her last name to be the same as Vic's. She said that "Peltior" was so much more elegant than "Smith."

"What's another word for thesaurus?" said Michelle, as Vic locked the door behind her.

"What?" said Vic, confused, looking over to where her roommate was sitting on the couch, working a crossword puzzle.

Michelle sighed, and put the paper down firmly on the end table, pen on top. Vic noted that she was already dressed for going out.

"I thought we were going to Wok on the Wild side," said the beautician, pointedly, as Vic quickly stripped off her armor.

"Sorry," said Vic, undressing on her way to the too small bathroom. She gave Michelle a tired grin. "You knew my hours would occasionally be unpredictable on my job. Welcome to the world of the working superhero."

"We're going to be late. You know they get busy..."

"There's time."

"You need to get cleaned up and dressed."

"I'll hurry."

"Don't skip the makeup this time!"

"I don't need makeup," said Vic, as she deftly peeled out of the unitard she wore under the armor, leaving her in just athletic socks, a sports bra and panties.

"I want my wife to look pretty," said Michelle, pouting.

"I am pretty!"

"With a little help from makeup and the right clothes!" Michelle called after her. "You act so boyish you need all the help you can get!"

"Hey!" said Vic, ducking back into the living room and playfully pointing to her now bare midriff. "Don't argue with the girl abs!"

"Thanks to me helping you with your workouts, I'm getting some of those, myself," said Michelle, smirking. "Oh, and for trying to change the subject, I'll do your makeup and pick your outfit."

"That's fine!" Vic called, as she entered the bathroom. "You're faster than me with that stuff, anyway!"

As she closed the door, Michelle could hear Vic singing "Hey, babe! Take a wok on the wild side!"

* * *

"I'm still not used to wearing dresses," muttered Vic, blushing, after the waitress took their order.

"That's a skirt, with a nice blouse and sheer stockings," said Michelle. She smiled. "That last to show off your kicker's legs. So, how was your day?"

Vic responded chronologically, talking about her training with Trujillo at the college - those lessons still paid for by the Bureau, under the heading of Continuing Training - then the call for help from the city as she was returning to her car. She finished with the news about the drunk driver Energia had stopped. Michelle was suitably outraged.

"So, how was your day?" said Vic, smiling.

"Oh, mostly routine," said Michelle, too casually. "I guess the highlight was that I finally found us another nice apartment. This time I made sure I was dealing with the actual landlord. We can go look at it tomorrow."

"Fantastic!" said Vic, with a laugh. "I'll be so glad to get out of that cramped place we have now!"