---

 

Chapter 13 - Meaning of a Name

Dinner Time, November 4th, 2007 - Jameson Residence

Sophia awoke early that morning in a cold sweat, just as she did the night after the men attacked her family. One night in her mother's room and another on her own. Both nights she woke up screaming about men with guns breaking into her room and slipping a black hood over her head. The MCO was the bogeymen of her dreams just after she manifested. Corinne warned her of young mutants getting taken by the agents of the international agency and never being seen again. So, of course, she quietly quaked at what they could do. They almost took her new friend for gods sakes! Instead, it was the bastards of Humanity FIrst who now haunted her.

Instead of the Men in Black, she got the second coming of the Ku Klux Klan. There was no other way to describe Humanity First other than they lacked the white hoods and weird fetishes for burning crosses. As a Native woman, the event of what can only be described as a Night Ride was all more real. Saturday was nothing more than an impromptu therapy session with her grandfather. A man who'd been in more than one major villain fight, he was someone who could give her a sense of where to start. Her mother said she would offer the help herself, but something didn't feel right about what she said. Grandpa told her stories about his work with the Alliance, and fighting crime along the border. He told her about the early work operations with members of the DPA in the mountains against the Grand Hall of Sinister Wisdom.

"There are more than the MCO and Humanity First Lil' Wing," he said slowly, "I cannot lie to you about what lies ahead. But we can do our best to make sure that your trauma does not come to rule you."

Her mother didn't say much the Saturday after the attack and was mostly on the phone. Not long after a repair team arrived to replace the window and begin to clean up on the grounds. In between talking to Grandfather and her mom Sophia was pretty much adrift. Scared of her own shadow she just wanted for it all to be over and for life to go back to the way it had been.

Waking up on Sunday morning to the alarm set by her mother, and finding herself completely unprepared for another day she simply stared at the ceiling. What is wrong with me? I'm jumping at every sound. The nightmares won't stop and I don't want to leave my bed. What am I? A little kid? She pulled the blanket up tighter to her chin and let her body go slack. More staring at the ceiling and she started to count the cobwebs in her room. Right around the thirteenth she stopped and found her eyes being drawn to the outside. It was light out and she knew it was time to get up, the alarm had woken her up before she turned it off and sat there like a lump in her own bed.

Her moment of low motivation could only last for so long right? Rolling over to sit on her side she nuzzled into the pillow as she let the weight of her blankets press down to her.

"Lil' Wing, time to get up," came the loud knock at her door. The knock announced her mother's entry to her room.

"MOM!" she cried out and ducked her head under the covers. “I'm not getting out of-”

"Breakfast is ready, get your bum dressed or I'll come back with cold water." Her mother's words interrupted her train of thought.

"Fine, FINE!" she yelled loudly as her mom laughed and exited. Rolling out of bed a few minutes later she was able to shimmy into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. Her body shivered in the cool November air as she thanked her mother and grandfather for not dropping the night temperature too much in the house. Already, the heat was kicking in as she could hear the rumble of the vents beneath her feet. Pulling a robe around her body she walked down the stairs out into the open hallway. Many of the pictures which once lined the walls were currently leaning against it on the stairwell. Others were off to the framer to be fixed.

The attack on the house had unsettled everything and upended her entire life. Now, only a few days to go, she would soon be off to a school more than a thousand miles away across the country. Sophia padded into the kitchen just as her grandfather was setting down a large pot of deer stew for breakfast. Her mother meanwhile was slicing pieces of bread and grilling them on the cooktop with butter. Texas toast and stew for breakfast was a time honored tradition in her family. Especially during winter where her mother's energizer body required large quantities of calories to maintain itself. Personally, she just loved eating venison after one of her cousins did the yearly cull to maintain the health of the prey population.

"What did you add this time grandpa?" she wondered aloud as he placed a bowl and spoon in front of her. Gerald could only smile at how his granddaughter was slowly returning to herself. Sophia was thinking quietly to herself about a similar thing. Maybe mom and grandpa are right, I can't just keep wallowing. But still...

"Deer meat and some elk from your cousins up in Nooksack," he replied. His brown eyes shined with mirth as he served her up a large heaping mix of potatoes and other vegetables mixed with thick chunks of meat.

"I love elk," she smiled before digging into the bowl. The simple spices made her mouth water and as she hungrily tore into the bowl her mother finished the bread. A pile of it was placed in a basket in the center of the open counter in front of her. The young teen was eager to get a second helping as she began eating a portion of the bread as well. Ten minutes into her dinner, her mother joined her while grandfather took care of the dishes. Gerald joined them not long after portioning out the last of the stew for himself and sat back while drinking a glass of milk. His long hair was freely falling down his shoulders with lines of grey running through it.

Laugh lines formed around his face as he offered a smile to his granddaughter and she returned it.

"Lil' Wing," her mother said suddenly, "We do have to talk about a few things."

Sophia frowned and nervously eyed both her mother and grandfather. Gerald crossed his arms to watch both of the women in his life.

"Your mother is right Sophia," he intoned, "we have spoken to someone at Whately Academy. They will help you find a therapist on campus to help."

"I don't want to see a shrink," she scoffed.

"They helped me," her mom said, her face tense, "after I left your father I needed someone to talk to."

Sophia eased up at hearing the words and listened.

"I needed someone who would listen, not shrink me, but listen and walk me through how not to let my experiences rule my life," her mother said poignantly.

"I don't want to be broken on the inside," she lamented.

"You aren't broken," her grandfather affirmed as he enveloped her in a hug, "you experienced a trauma. And, like anyone who experiences trauma you need help working through it."

"Okay," she said.

"Now listen," her mother told her, "There are a few you need to be careful around at school. The big school cliques, the Alphas, stay away from them. Keep your head down and try to avoid the bigger politics. Some of the worst supervillains have their kids there as well as the world’s most famous superheroes."

The teen listened for the next few minutes as her mom laid out the basics of what she'd already eavesdropped from the night before. She did that a lot recently just sat there and listened. It was something she was used to in her family. Her mother tried her best to not act like the overbearing mother. The few times she did get to see her dad he fit the role quite well. always asking her how she was doing in school, and if she'd made any decisions for college. Corinne did make decisions for her without any consultation, but her father demanded she gave up her childhood.

"Mom..." she spoke up suddenly.

"What honey?" her mom asked.

"Thanks for just....caring for me," she said as she gave her mother and then Grandfather a hug for a few minutes and her grandfather let her go, but not before giving her forehead a kiss.

Mid-Morning, November 5th, 2007 - Meche's Tailoring Shop

I never thought I would ever meet a banshee, and I never thought I would kill a man. Seeing that creature in my dreams, and then having its warning confirmed the next morning rocked me to the core. Mom found me screaming that night, and after I finally quieted down she didn't fall asleep at all. So, when she confirmed it after a call with Gerald Jameson all I could do was sob. I hadn't cried so hard in years, and when I was done my mom sat me down and I offered me some hot apple cider. After sipping it my parents did their best to inform me about what was going to happen this upcoming week. First, they were going to enroll me in a therapist on campus for Whately. Mom already spoke to the Jameson's who were doing the same.

It was good to know that both Sophia and I were now not just friends, but we'd both understand the wonderful world of no consent given therapy sessions! I love it when the adults in my life take my agency! It's for my own good, right?

"They mean well love, but your father and mother are just worried." I continued to mentally rant for about an hour after they informed me of that part of the schedule. In fact, they let me go for a run around the island after that and I did so. Being able to just speed along the road without too much worry helped me burn off my initial outrage. I decided thereafter to just return home at about mile four, and after jogging back I walked into the house at about the time my dad was finishing dinner. I barely noticed it was dark outside as I looked out and I gave a sheepish grin as dad shook his head.

"My daughter, the superhero to be who likes cheating death by wearing blackout and running in the middle of the road." He's not kidding I did that. I had run off in all black and didn't bother to carry a flashlight. My red mane sailed past my ears on the run and as I sat down to dig into a massive pile of tuna melts made by my dad I just listened. Or as my mom liked to say, "mouth closed, ears open."

After a bit of explaining dad told me mom would be taking me to a tailor the following day and after that the Alliance Headquarters. All I could do was a nod. I mean what else was I going to say? Please don't pay tons of money so I can go to a nice school? Yes, unthankful spoiled brat words straight out of the manual we're all given upon birth, right? I rolled my eyes internally and I could hear Morgan chuckling at my own self-awareness. I was trying to hide my own sense of denial in self-depreciation. A habit I wouldn't break for months or even years down the road.

So here we were, the tailor, a place called Meche's Tailor, and the woman who owned it named Cynthia was a pretty friendly middle-aged woman. She explained thoroughly what would be happening that day and that I wasn't the first student of Whately of hers to come in as a client. My eyes widened at the little revelation and I smiled. Who could it be? I was pretty sure Corrine Jameson, Sophia's mom, attended the school. Maybe even Gerald himself was an alumnus.

Mom and Cynthia chatted while I remained quiet and pretty much engrossed in my phone.

Grainne: I'm at the tailor, where r u?

Sophia: At the Alliance HQ, I'm going over school rules with mom.

Grainne: IS your MID ready?

Sophia: Yeah, my temp is done, and I even picked a codename! :)

Grainne: Oh? What did ye pick?

Both Sophia and I got into the habit of texting each other mostly during our respective downtime. It was a nice way to keep up. I hadn't even learned my class schedule yet, but the application package itself was hefty. Mom and dad sat me down at the computer to fill out most of the information. I still can't believe the amount of detail the application required, including a small essay about who I was. That was weird, I've never written an essay to get into a school before. They also asked me a few questions about my powers. It was all under a section for "powers testing preparation".

So I tried my best to describe what I could do, and what I remember they did for my initial testing. The very idea of having to go through the process all over again was, not high on my list to say the least.

Cynthia's purpose in all of this was to get the measurements I would need for my school uniform. One which I found to be a tad over the top. But, let's be honest, I think school uniforms are just an excuse to charge tons of money to my family for a few sets of clothes. My synthetic allergy was going to be a problem. I could barely wear anything not made from a organic fabric, and luckily my allergy wasn't a severe as some (as Corinne told me). This, of course, added weight to the already growing cost of my time at school. Mom decided to have most of the clothing made by a tailor located in the nearby town of Dunwich. A woman named Cecilia Rogers was the one my parents were commissioning for much of the cloth itself.

The measurements Cynthia took of me were to be transferred via email to Cecilia so that she would be able to produce most of my clothing for the upcoming semester. With that added to my already existing wardrobe I wasn't completely screwed. But, if I wanted things to be perfect I had to remain still. A small pinprick of pain drew a yelp as I jumped in the air.

"Please keep still miss O'Callaghan," Cynthia scolded me playfully.

I flushed pink in my cheeks and could only give a slow nod.

"I am sorry for the pin though, I moved it too far to the left," she said as she removed the pin and freed up her measuring tape.

"It's okay, my skin is a little over-sensitive," I blushed before closing my eyes. How much more of this would I have to undergo?

"Be patient, my heart. Once we are at this school we can train to defend ourselves."

Morgan was right, as she usually was. Focusing my mind I decided to consider what I was going to choose as my codename. Cynthia asked me to raise my arms and I let my mind wander for long enough I began to daydream. I imagined myself dressed as I usually did in my dreamscape. A brigandine coat covered my torso, and a half helm guarded my face. My long red hair was pulled into a tight series of braids from beneath my helm. Gazing across the bogland on the coast of what I assumed was Ireland I smiled.

"When my sisters and I went to war they gave us a name." Morgan appeared beside me in my daydream in her usual green dress. More than a head taller than me she placed her hand on my shoulder. It comforted me as I watched a small fox race after a rat across the bogland. Its red tail rose up as it bounced straight up into the air to land on the rat.

"It was the three of us Banba, Fódla, and Eriu. We left our forest and our families and became the Morrigna." Her grip tightened and I let my daydream self lean against her.

"Honey are you paying attention?" mom asked snapping me out of my dream. Morgan was gone leaving me in the small shop again wearing a skirt and a blouse. My recently shave legs had a few cuts from my first attempt, but I was proud I finally accomplished my next level in teenaged girl!

"Sorry, I was thinking about my codename," I replied meekly.

"Well, we're almost done here," Cynthia chirped as she was busily using a Gizmatic tablet to type out my measurements.

"So, sorry to ask but," I stressed the 'but' and gestured to my figure emphasizing my chest and behind to Cynthia. The older woman's reply was to burst out laughing as I blushed bright red. Hey, I was a girl for only a few weeks and I had no idea what my measurements were.

"You're a thirty-four B, twenty-four waist, thirty-four hips," she smiled. My face was a deep bright red as I could barely contain my embarrassment, but I was happy.

"Thank you very much, Cynthia," I was able to stammer after mom dragged me over to the cash register to pay the woman.

"You're welcome little Rose," she smiled at me and I gave her a confused look.

"You're mom said your middle name is Róisín," she said.

"Yeah, it is," I nodded. Mom was chuckling to herself at our interplay, and again I blushed in embarrassment.

"Cynthia, I think my daughter's head is going to explode either from the compliments or from embarrassment," Lynn O'Callaghan declared as I rolled my eyes. Mom was dramatic when she wanted to be and was where I learned my hard sense of sarcasm.

"My head isn't that big," I pouted.

"Not yet, little Rose," she smiled evilly at me using my new nickname.

"Mom!" I squeaked before I sighed. Mom's am I right? They love you and toss you under the bus as soon as they can.

Early Afternoon, November 5th, 2007 - Whatcom Alliance Headquarters

I was lost in thought for most of the drive north to the Alliance Headquarters paying little to no attention to whatever my mom was saying. Honestly, she wasn't really talking either. The last few days had definitely wounded my family's morale to a new level of strain. Mom was more protective than usual, keeping me within arms reach of her, and glaring at -anyone- who gave me a weird look. Luckily, except for my eyes, I could easily pass as a baseline if I didn't show off my strength. Yeah, the problem with my eyes were they glowed now. Yup, they glowed.

You see I grew up on stories where some of my favorite characters were psychics. My eyes gave off a strange aura, and if I moved in the night my reflection would actually show a flame-like energy-burning there. Morgan said it was the rage she's pent up for years slowly leaking out of me. I think it's the essence I'm taking in and my body decides to show off by having it flame up in my eyes. One random person said I had the "geas" of the fae in me. I tilted my head when he said this in passing while we were walking back to the car from the tailor.

"Weirdo," I scoffed just an hour ago.

But you know what, I'm not so sure. I'm definitely not magically gifted as I barely rate as a Wizard 1 from what Sophia relayed to me after seeing my initial results. "If you name yourself something eyes, I'm going to leave your body." Morgan's sense of humor had grown or should I say darkened over the last few days. This is where my constant silence began an ongoing debate about what my codename was going to be.

I began thinking of naming myself War Song, and of course, Morgan pointed out that Blizzard's World of Warcraft wasn't a good source of names. Shrugging it off easily, I went through another five names before finding myself at a complete creative block. By the time I was completely out of my internal wanderings I was on auto-pilot and closing the car door. The pleated skirt around my legs kicked up and I moved to shove it back down. While I loved the free feeling of dresses and skirts, I hate the fact one wrong gust of wind gives everyone a glance at my underwear. I now understood why in the world anime girls were so damn angry about their skirts. Who wants to know about my preference for purple boyshorts, because I really only want ME to know this fact alone.

I found myself in the office this time, a small building located to the left as you entered the lobby. Much like most offices it for some reason had a small window looking out into the lobby. Inside I found several filing cabinets all organized along the far wall. To the right were three desks each dedicated to where one of the logistics staff usually worked. I found a seat just past the doorway by a desk set aside for RavenWing. Another had a small placard for Ogun, and the third was for someone named Agent Jimenez.

There was lettering under the name and I squinted to make it out. "Special Liaison Office for the Department of Paranormal Affairs". My eyes widened, an actual agent of the DPA worked here? I mean it made sense at least one government official in the area. I mean there wasn't another super team for most of the state outside of the teams in Seattle. A single mug of coffee still steaming hot remained on the desktop meaning its owner was just out for a few minutes.

The smell of fresh black coffee made my stomach gurgle as I realized I needed to eat soon. Mom glanced at me from where she stood reading through an email on her phone. A faint smile of shame graced my lips as a man brushed past us and went straight to the desk holding the mug. He was a dark-skinned man, short, and at first glance, I assumed he was Hispanic. His eyes though were ocean blue, and a faint mustache covered his upper lip. He was short-statured, probably shorter than me, but each move he made spoke of years of training.

This guy was a real-life James Bond type, hell I could hear the theme music playing as he just sipped his coffee like a pro. Not long after mom stepped aside this time and Gerald appeared with Sophia in tow. Both appeared a little frazzled with Sophia yawning just after entering the room.

"Ah now that we're all here we can get this done," Agent Jimenez spoke. I assumed he was Agent Jimenez because it was a cardinal sin in Washington State to steal another's coffee.

"Yes, Sophia has already chosen her codename," Gerald replied and he patted his granddaughter on the back.

"DuskWing," she stated with a shrug. I looked at her and before I could reply she said, "If you make a Darkwing Duck joke I will sew your lips shut."

"I wasn't going to at all jeez!" I sighed before singing, "Daring Duck of Mystery!"

Mom just laughed as she shook her head, Sophia instead of rounding on me laughed out loud herself. It made sense, we were going to a High School so having a sense of humor about her codename choice was a good starter.

"Alright," Jimenez said as he leaned over a small printer and a little card popped out. Furrowing my brow in wonder I watched as he walked over and handed the card to her.

"This is your Probational MID which you'll get replaced at Whately once their power's testing lab completes the job," he said simply.

"I'm a Wizard 3 and an Exemplar 1?" she asked staring at the piece of plastic.

"Uh," I said raising my hand. Those piercing blue eyes and solemn impatient faced were now aimed at me.

"You pick a codename yet Miss O'Callaghan?" he asked me.

"Um, no can you give me a few minutes," and I could see his eyes roll.

"Yes, I need to call my partner, we have an Irish woman to babysit in Seattle," he laughed before walking out of the room.

Everyone turned to stare at me, and I fidgeted in my seat. This was the moment in the drama where everyone expected me to act scared and I was. There was no hiding it, I was completely dumbfounded about what I was going to call myself.

"This is silly expecting a child to select a name for themselves. My sisters and I were given our names and not all of them we liked." Morgan the ever stoic highlander woman in my head added her two cents.

"Yeah, well," I said.

"Well, what?" Mom asked.

"Oh I was thinking out loud," I said. I mean, how do you tell your mom you were a glowing-eyed faery woman because you actually bonded with one. Oh yeah, mom, you see I met a woman in my dreams and she said she could make me a girl. There would be a very long heated debate where I'd be reminded that I shouldn't make deals with cosmic entities.

"Sounded like you were talking to someone." She said and sat down in the seat beside mine.

"Ye canna hide me forever." I swear she purposely trilled her accent up when she wanted to play Obi-wan.

"So um mom," I began, "I...kind of am bonded to a spirit."

Mom's face went from concerned to confused. She glanced at me before Gerald rubbed his jaw in that usual "I'm thinking" gesture people liked to do.

"So you're an avatar," he said and then added, "A mutant who can host a spirit."

"You're saying my daughter is possessed," Mom answered.

"Not possessed, bonded, Spirits are limited from what I understand," he offered. Mom didn't appear entirely convinced as she turned and let out a demonstrative sigh.

"She...she made me who I am mom," I replied plaintively.

"Okay, okay," she held up her hands to placate me inhaled to calm herself. "I'm guessing the Academy knows more, so when you take her there Gerald please ask if there is some sort of brochure-like 'So your child is a mystical spirit host', I can read."

Dad was likely going to get a kick out of mom's reaction. Out of my parent's mom always came off as the most assertive and aggressive. She told me it came from years growing up in parts of Tacoma as a child. It made sense, she lost her mom as a kid and unlike didn't have the easiest time growing up. Dad reflected this almost entirely. He was quiet, and easy going and when pushed easily exploded if he didn't like the way things went. It was my mom's aggressiveness and my dad's anger which led to my "Scandinavian rage" as my mom called it.

"You aren't Loki come again little one, lying isn't one of your skills." Again, the wise woman speaks the truth and I put my mind to what I needed to decide, my codename. Since I had the weird eyes I considered calling myself Faerie Fire before I heard an unapproving chuckle from Morgan.

Jimenez returned and let out a loud yawn while waving his hand in front of his face.

"Sorry about that, apparently my partner almost lost sight of our charge, and she ended up getting caught up by a pack of reporters," shaking his head he grasped his mug to drink more of his coffee.

"It was like seeing crows crowding over a fresh piece of roadkill," he said after setting down his cup once again.

Now that little line from Jimenez helped. Digging into my beloved hobby of reading random online resources of mythology and folklore something came to me.

"The raid on Cúalṅge, I remember that story. I did appear as a crow to warn that stupid idiot calling himself the bull." I smiled, if I was going to be tied to a spirit steeped in mythology why not embrace it.

"Scald-Crow," I said speaking up.

"A what now?" Jimenez asked.

"It's a banshee-like omen, it signals oncoming battle and misfortune." Not going to bring up the death part, but I mean if I'm going to be some fighter why not be the one that end's the fight right?

"Okay, weird, but okay," Jimenez said, and I could tell this was his every day. Like before he entered some information on the little card printer and a few moments later it spat out another probationary MID. Mine was a little different than Sophia's as the man handed me the card I noticed my ratings.

"Initial tests say you're an Exemplar 3, but your healing suggests Exemplar 4. Also, nice try on hiding being an avatar, but we have the latest information from ARC this week," the man smiled at me. My eyes finally fell on the rating of Wizard 1. Wait, I was an uber strong teenager, but a shitty ass witch? "Heh, you didna ask for the magic lass."

She was right, our deal was I was to be the girl I wanted to be. Not the magical witch, the brightest of my age. I was Supergirl, not Hermione Granger.