tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77519127915770334152024-03-13T20:51:56.485-07:00Make Pretty Words HardMari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.comBlogger179125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-69468447022073261842014-07-15T19:03:00.001-07:002014-07-15T19:03:19.662-07:00REVIEW: The Animorphs television show. Alternately: My Tiny, Squishy Heart of Feelings.I'm not even going to give my usual disclaimer here, because if you're expecting a spoiler alert on a fifteen year-old show that hardly anyone watched in the first place, well...you have clearly been sheltered from society to the extent that the FBI is watching you right now. It's okay. They're, um, friendly.<br />
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When I get asked who or what formed me as a writer, I have four major answers: Joss Whedon, Stephen King, the team of genius/hack lunatics behind <i>Xena</i>, and one Katherine Alice Applegate. All four of these influences came together when I was about thirteen years old, just as I was starting to nudge around and feel out who I wanted to be as a person and also just as I was starting to realize that I genuinely enjoyed telling stories. Prior to that, my way with words was hollow. It got me pats on the head from teachers*, but I really didn't bother with characters after I was done with them. <i>Animorphs </i>was a big part of that shift. K.A. Applegate was brilliant in making imaginative aliens, building a diverse cast in the weird gap between progressivism's first leaps and its' last ten years or so of resurgence**, and writing the horrors of war on a level that a thirteen year-old could understand. That last part lingers to this day.<br />
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For twenty-six episodes across 1998 and 1999, <i>Animorphs</i> came to realization as a television show on the then-empiric Nicklelodeon Network. Being a poor kid, I was only able to witness part of it in snatches and grabs as it aired even though I really, really wanted to***. I've watched it all now, and I'm here to report. Thus, <i>Animorphs.</i><br />
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It's basically an endearingly bad series, though the first episodes are <i>intensely </i>bad in an inexcusable way. At least get your episodes right, guys, Tobias can't be tragically a hawk and then just learning how to morph as a human three episodes later. But do I think that a lot of what made the television series fail was due to the time and not the talent. In 1998, on Nickelodeon, you did not have the budget or the technology to really bring to life what K.A. Applegate was trying to do. She thought about doing the rubber-face thing with aliens because she sensed she might have an idea that would be hard to bring to the screen, was encouraged to be more creative, and then went *balls-out crazy* in a supremely fantastic way. As a result, there was a lot that simply could not translate well to a television medium without CGI. Plus, there were the animals. Big, dangerous predators who can be filmed fighting realistically should...probably not be around humans. In addition, the half-hour format did the show no favors when they were trying to follow plot lines that spanned an entire book.<br />
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Towards the end of the first season, though, a shift started to happen. The writers start to work within the limitations of their budget and medium rather than against them and came up with some fairly clever solutions. I bristled initially that destroying the Kandrona wasn't accorded to Rachel, because that was her defining moment in the series for me, but the writers managed work-arounds to bring in major plot points while also realizing that they were in new territory. They got K. A. Applegate's ultimate philosophy and used it towards their own ends. And the problem was never with the cast. Shawn Ashmore is the only person to really have a mainstream career, and that sucks. Christopher Ralph and Brooke Nevin still take the occasional small role, but most of the rest of the cast has retired. A shame, as they were a fairly talented bunch for writing that just wasn't there for the longest time.<br />
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Man, that was a trip down nostalgia lane. Apparently I have a lot of feels to share when it comes to my formative influences.<br />
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*I went to a state fiction competition at nine. How no one realized that I was shamelessly glueing <i>The Black Stallion</i> to Standard Little Girl Horse Fantasy, I will never know. Actually, now that I remember, part of the plot involved building a barn using actual glue.<br />
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**I remember her remarking with faint surprise that she hadn't received one single piece of hate mail about Jake and Cassie being in an interracial relationship. That surprise is still saddening.<br />
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***My monthly allowance went to the Animorphs book that I devoured in an hour. Also, I like footnotes. It's a thing.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-32587925959421951652014-07-01T17:18:00.002-07:002014-07-01T17:18:48.382-07:00REVIEW: Transformers: Age of ExtinctionUsual caveats: 'ware spoilers.<br />
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Okay. This is a bad movie. It falls into the classic superhero movie fail of trying to stir in too many villains with too many agendas, it has all the racism and misogyny of a Transformers movie*, it's in general a steaming pile of stupid. HOWEVER. It <i>is </i>a visually entertaining movie. It <i>does</i> have Stanley Tucci, whose career choices continue to baffle me in the best way possible. (Thank you for Burlesque, sir. <i>Thank you.</i>) And it has robot dinosaurs.<br />
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As it turns out, I will put up with a lot for robot dinosaurs.<br />
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*At least Mikaela did stuff; Tessa just screams for people to help her without making even a token effort to save herself. Darci and Su were pretty awesome, though, and I wished the movie contained more of them.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-69342605283142209092014-04-09T09:23:00.001-07:002014-04-09T10:07:05.990-07:00REVIEW: Captain America: The Winter SoldierMy usual caveats: 'ware spoilers, but especially for this post. There are some big ones.<br />
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Okay. I have to say it: it was better than Avengers. Now, before you rise up as one to murder me, hear me out: Avengers was an excellent ensemble film. If there is one thing Joss Whedon is good at, it's juggling a large cast while still giving everyone their moment. Unless you make a seven-hour movie, however, there is no way to get into the same character detail that you can achieve while focusing on one protagonist. Cap 2 is a pure and total love song to Steve Rogers, and it <i>nails</i> it. I'm kind of leaning towards dividing the world into two types of people: those who love Steve and those who don't. It's not good for you if you're one of the ones who don't. This Steve is very different from the Steve of the Avengers and, IMO, better for it. Not a slam against Joss, as the deleted scenes of the Avengers make it clear that it was presenting a Steve still reeling and depressed, while Cap 2 is Steve starting to recover and become himself again. And that Steve is a <i>snarky bastard</i>. I have to laugh every time Steve is reduced to the perfect, obedient soldier, because hell no. Steve Rogers is a <i>horrible</i> soldier. I don't think he's followed a single order across all three of his film appearances. Steve Rogers does what Steve Rogers thinks is right, and he gets away with it because he's such a genuinely good man while he sasses you the entire way. <i>The Winter Soldier</i> is a movie about identity and trust, about the dangers of becoming so embedded in your own worldview that you don't realize when the rot has infiltrated. (And a complete damnation of NSA tactics and the modern trend of constant observation, which was <i>fantastic.</i>) No other Marvel hero than Steve could have pulled that off. He's the only one who could ask people to choose between freedom and fear and not have it play as unbelievably corny. Old-fashioned values, indeed. I cannot wait for the shake-up that this movie is going to deliver when it comes to Avengers 2.<br />
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And now that I've made a completely ridiculous fangirl of myself over Steve Rogers (which is admittedly not new), can we talk about Natasha? And I can I bitch and moan yet again that we're getting Ant Man and a goddamned talking raccoon before we get a Black Widow movie? Natasha isn't quite into the love-her-or-you're-wrong territory with me that Steve is, but only because the Red Room hasn't <i>quite</i> become canon as far as the MCU is concerned. I don't think it's been entirely ruled out yet, because Natasha is freaking my age and yet somehow worked for the KGB (do you have gaps that you can't explain, Nat?) and Scarlett took on a lot of in-character cagey facial expressions. Until that's canon, I get that you might not have my sad little redemptionista tendencies and can't forget that she's a scary person used to doing Very Bad Things. Which is a little bit why I love her, but okay. We just need our freaking Black Widow movie all ready (if you think I'm ever letting that go, you are <i>adorable</i>) to bring in the Red Room backstory. Then she will join my unapologetic Steve Rogers territory. And when we get the Black Widow movie, we also get...<br />
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...another way for Sebastian Stan to fulfill his nine-movie contract with Marvel by continuing to break my freaking heart. I've had a soft spot for Bucky Barnes ever since my Marvel conversion of a few years back; if you asked me to choose between him, Steve, and Natasha, my response would probably be to fall to the floor and cry until I died of dehydration and it didn't matter any longer. This movie nailed him. Sebastian Stan was actually the first casting choice that didn't cause me to tilt my head a little where Marvel is concerned--I really need to stop doing that--since RDJ as Tony Stark. He was amazing. Maybe ten lines in the whole movie, but watch his eyes. And if you don't have a moment at "But I knew him" then maybe you're in the don't-like-Steve-Rogers box with me.<br />
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When the Black Widow movie happens (YouTube a good RickRoll, and you're welcome for the ear worm), I hope it has a healthy helping of Fury and Natasha interacting with each other, as their warmth towards each other was tremendously enjoyable. You sort of got the sense that, behind the scenes since Natasha's conversion to SHEILD, they developed an almost paternal relationship in the most unlikely way possible. I hope the inevitable BW movie (TALKING RACCOON, MARVEL) also features Sam Wilson, as I was enthusiastically won over to Falcon as his MCU incarnation after really just not liking him very much in the comics. I loved that he, like Steve, was just a good man with no caveats to that. Marvel has proven themselves to be masters of working the "good is not boring/dumb" philosophy. Not to mention how much I loved that the All American Hero team featured two women (Maria Hill is back, competence kink in full force as always) and two black guys. Marvel superhero movies aren't perfect on representation, but they honestly try, and they furthermore try without expecting head-pats for it. I really do appreciate that.<br />
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Aaaand I've exposed all of you to enough of my fangirl lunacy for one day. I'm much more about character than I am about clever plot twists, but the movie works a sense of a good 1970s spy thriller while maintaining the Marvel tone. Watch it. Watch it more than once. I'm going to give you all a little bit of a breather from the geek-gasm I just dumped all over you, but only because I want to think about the MCU vs. comics interpretations of Falcon some more and then come back to 'gasm again about how perfect the interactions between Sam and Steve as alternate timeline mirror selves were.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-78747105592515679052014-03-28T10:59:00.002-07:002014-03-28T10:59:19.812-07:00The Veronica Mars Movie: Feelin' the LoVe<br />
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A nasty chest cold put me out of commission for most of last week, delaying my watching of the Veronica Mars movie. (And trust me, the sulking was epic.) As per usual, 'ware spoilers.</div>
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With only the smallest handful of reservations, I love this movie unabashedly. It's not a blockbuster, it's not an art movie. It's a love letter. That's the best language to describe this film: an absolute <i>thank you</i> to the fans who wanted Veronica back and were willing to volunteer some serious cash to pay for her return to the screen. We reunite with Veronica nine years after the series finale of the show, just as she's graduating from law school, interviewing with prestigious law firms, and congratulating herself on transitioning from the revenge-fueled life she led in Neptune to a stable, normal existence.</div>
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The slight problem, as Veronica admits to herself, is that stable and normal bores the shit out of her. She returns to Neptune for the famed "one last job" (like that ever works out well) when former boyfriend Logan Echolls is accused of murdering his girlfriend, but one gets the sense that she would have found her way back even without his phone call. Veronica refers to herself as an addict when it comes to her investigative urges several times throughout the movie. Given that Logan states he ended his relationship with the (not yet then) dead ex-girlfriend because her substance abuse issues made him feel more like a sponsor than a mate, this gave me pause. Veronica has always had deep issues with rage, played wonderfully by Kristen Bell and only enhanced by the fact that she looks like Tinker Belle cast into human form. It's true to say that she's a noir hero, deeply flawed and with some not-so-savoury dogs in the fight that drive her to her acts of heroism. I'm not sure how I feel about her last lines basically admitting that she's an incurable addict and taking up the mantel of Mars Investigations as a way of binging on her urges. Very interested in the whispers of a possible sequel. (MEANING GO WATCH THIS MOVIE, GUYS. GO WATCH IT, GO WATCH IT, GO WATCH IT. I MEAN IT.)</div>
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As much as Veronica likes to isolate herself when she's in a driven mood, she's nothing without the rest of her supporting cast. Thomas was able to get nearly everyone back, from Mac to Wallace to Dick, and they are all wonderfully written and acted in their new, adult personas. The character who surprised me the most, however, was Logan. If you had told me a decade ago that Logan Freaking Echolls would, not only join the Navy, but actually rise high enough to make it a career I would have laughed in your face and then quietly advise that you check into a nice, quiet place to rest for a while. <i>But it works</i>. Between Thomas's writing and directing and Dohring's acting, Logan emerges as an actual adult who still has anger issues (it's not a Veronica Mars movie unless Logan gets into at least one fistfight) but is mature enough to acknowledge them and not let them rule his life. And it seems...effortless. Logan Echolls, actual adult. Whoa.</div>
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Of course, this would not be a Veronica Mars movie without that dash of smolder between Logan and Veronica. The chemistry between Bell and Dohring has not died in the slightest after nearly a decade apart, and this time? The "epic" quote is earned.</div>
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The plot is smart, the acting is every bit as good as the series, and Thomas's voice rivals Whedon's in its immediate recognizability. I'm telling you, people, if this movie doesn't get a sequel and the cliffhanger with Weevil is left unresolved, I will cry tears of blood.</div>
Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-2181295522537151862014-03-14T18:12:00.000-07:002014-03-14T18:12:19.788-07:00My Veronica!<br />
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I am too sick to go see the Veronica Mars movie in public. (No one wants my sneezes and old man coughs in the theater, plus calling in today just makes it bad form.) I know I can rent it as of now on iTunes, but who knows how long it's going to last on the big screen when only certain theaters are carrying it now! Obviously, I am made of tragedy.</div>
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So go see it in my absence, even though I am going to transparently rent it on my computer. To my memory, this is the first cro<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">wd-funded major motion picture ever, and it features Kristen Bell as lead and is written by Rob Thomas. (Buy a copy of Rats Saw God and the S1 of VMars, thank you.) The crowd-funding in and of itself is a big deal, and a major paradigm shift from what studio heads think people want versus want people *actually want*. Secondly: Kristen Bell and Rob Thomas, always a smarter-than-you neo-noir combo. Thirdly: OMG MY SMASHY MARSHMALLOW IS BACK GET HERE YOU SWEETNESS. The fact that Veronica Mars is not included on every single list of badass Internet heroines is a freaking crime.</span></div>
Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-25906606138591468122014-01-19T06:41:00.000-08:002014-01-19T06:41:12.455-08:00I don't do events. But sometimes I write books.Sometimes, I even write books that make me happy. And with that in mind:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZT6ZC8BBKSaEPxwRN3SeV0B15H6-5DYGLb56IE8tbDONQd2Q0js__U6UslsiFjkQx4Q8lzUh0OIkgursqR_lD8bwCBSeKuRAkzQOXZkaLFR02eSkradTOg8Qy0Ktj7LCYx235nVhUPCZ/s1600/Siren+(300dpi+2700x1800).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcZT6ZC8BBKSaEPxwRN3SeV0B15H6-5DYGLb56IE8tbDONQd2Q0js__U6UslsiFjkQx4Q8lzUh0OIkgursqR_lD8bwCBSeKuRAkzQOXZkaLFR02eSkradTOg8Qy0Ktj7LCYx235nVhUPCZ/s1600/Siren+(300dpi+2700x1800).jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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is live. (Or LIVE!!!, as you may want it.) Check it out on Amazon <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Siren-Super-Mari-Stroud-ebook/dp/B00HX0029Y/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1390142073&sr=8-5&keywords=mari+stroud">here</a>, and feel free to flail-scream with me about Bonnie in the comments sections. (I'm on a Bonnie kick. I've decided to call it "my life.")Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-79190615868135939622014-01-12T16:48:00.001-08:002014-01-12T16:48:30.495-08:00Siren cover reveal!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4s8gR-b3SHy75Z3FRNb_7nzPpfCoQtbsciixYlYveM7tYqkmnaNXs1kfXd9hhqscEqzdOn0CSG3S954FMIBUfXeq9IZ3EjvjyOK8_gNssFdQSf-iL9NAsptEaI9mGappz4hhuC8hLCb3/s1600/Siren+(72dpi+900x600).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4s8gR-b3SHy75Z3FRNb_7nzPpfCoQtbsciixYlYveM7tYqkmnaNXs1kfXd9hhqscEqzdOn0CSG3S954FMIBUfXeq9IZ3EjvjyOK8_gNssFdQSf-iL9NAsptEaI9mGappz4hhuC8hLCb3/s320/Siren+(72dpi+900x600).jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Yes, at long last, <i>Siren </i>is ready to roll! It's official premiere will be Friday, January 17th. As an accompaniment, the first three Super books will be completely free through Amazon, and I will be completely obnoxious. So, uh, fair warning.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-51464890594558557932014-01-05T19:47:00.001-08:002014-01-05T19:47:28.511-08:00Hello, 2014. And glitter.A little over two years ago, I did a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mari-Stroud/e/B006ZDWUN6/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1388973415&sr=8-2">thing.</a> It's been crazy since then: I've changed jobs, changed vehicles, changed relationships (more than once). Sometimes I look at the woman I was back then and kind of doubt she was real.<br />
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So, in honor of the woman I was two years ago (because she couldn't keep to a damned deadline, either): <i>Siren</i> will be out within a month. I'm finalizing the cover right now and will be celebrating by giving away the first three Super books for free for a full five days. Because glitter, and how much I enjoy throwing it.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-31622910011957060822013-12-09T17:51:00.000-08:002013-12-09T17:51:07.160-08:00I get a weird thrill out of making checklists.I'm looking into getting help for it. Things I need to get done:<br />
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1) The <i>Siren</i> cover. Sweet Christ, I'm starting to feel like I need to hang up a sign stating "Free Punches" to cover every time I mention it without, you know, accomplishing it.<br />
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2) The Bonnie&J novella. It really has no other plot thus far than "Bonnie and J have hijinks." I consider this to be a solid life-plan.<br />
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3) Resume editing on <i>Sea Change.</i><br />
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4) Resume writing on the (side) side as Smutty Alter Ego. I miss her.<br />
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5) <i>Bulletproof.</i><br />
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6) Clean this damned house before it locks its own door and swallows me absorbs me like an amoeba feeding. What? It's not always about the books.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-48644518815159150852013-12-08T19:05:00.002-08:002013-12-08T19:05:49.784-08:00All over but the screaming.At long last, <i>Siren</i> is edited and ready to go; the only thing it lacks is a cover. We were going to do that this weekend, but the storm from hell hit Thursday night and basically shut the entire city down. Plus some hairy personal shit went down in the life I have when I'm not attached to my computer. (Because you totally want to be yanking yourself up from shooting directly into another screaming depression when you have nothing to do but look at your own walls!) It's probably not a good idea to explain to two small children that you killed their mother right before Christmas, so we're going to try again next weekend.<br />
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In the meantime, would anyone be interested in a free ARC of <i>Siren</i>? I love throwing glitter.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-90641412434118975282013-12-05T16:31:00.000-08:002013-12-05T16:33:30.530-08:00Yeah, I done did it.<br />
I...don't like to advertise myself a lot or state things I feel should be a moo-duh moment like I'm a prophet. (Superheroes can be POC! They can be queer! They can be women! <i> They can even be women that don't fit your beauty demands!</i>) This probably explains part of my sales, but something I absolutely strive for with the Super series is empowered women. Part of that means that I pay attention to conventional beauty standards and keep them in mind as I'm drafting. If anything, I tend to mark my female characters by what would be considered "flaws." J has a broad jaw, Mindy is short and compact, Bonnie is a baby giraffe. If you find them lovely, it's because they do lovable things. I *do* try to emphasize, however, that each of my five characters are athletes, and athletes freaking eat.<br />
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Dear Media: stop trying to make even "perfect" women feel like shit in order to sell more shit.<br />
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<a href="http://www.upworthy.com/5-minutes-of-what-the-media-actually-does-to-women-8?g=2&c=ufb1">Five minutes of what the media actually does to women.</a>Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-1926929679197240212013-12-02T16:21:00.003-08:002013-12-03T05:05:19.132-08:00REVIEW: The Darkest Gate by SM Reine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5WLKACqZea6Gn8JacCF9t65DeMe40icc0YGCUy9XZPYve-LIiWbkppcXnevTGm8Rkflpk9uofugrljISwV7fJCFDfK-OXJ5bi-Q_eeEwG1w2WYL8P4FxhyX-sS53Q3v8IwOZxwbPk22Q/s1600/The+Darkest+Gate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5WLKACqZea6Gn8JacCF9t65DeMe40icc0YGCUy9XZPYve-LIiWbkppcXnevTGm8Rkflpk9uofugrljISwV7fJCFDfK-OXJ5bi-Q_eeEwG1w2WYL8P4FxhyX-sS53Q3v8IwOZxwbPk22Q/s320/The+Darkest+Gate.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<b>Description:</b> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;">When Elise Kavanagh retired from demon hunting, she swore it would be permanent. But an attack from a powerful necromancer forced her back into the business, and now she's trying to balance her normal boyfriend and normal job with everything supernatural.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;">Mr. Black is a demon hunter gone rogue. He's enslaving angels and stealing ethereal artifacts in pursuit of forbidden immortality. An old grudge drives him to make his final stand in Elise's territory. Destroying her life and killing her friends isn't the goal, but it's a definite perk.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;">A demonic overlord offers to join against Mr. Black and protect Elise's loved ones. All she needs to do is ally with the demons she's sworn to kill, at the cost of her morals--and maybe her immortal soul. But once she crosses that line, there's no turning back.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;">Nothing is sacred when Heaven and Hell collide on Earth...</span><br />
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, serif; line-height: 19px;"><b>My Thoughts: </b>One of the things I enjoy most about Reine's Elise is how likably unlikable she is. Someone as traumatized as Elise isn't going to flop and angst, because they're not going to understand that they're traumatized. <i>The Darkest Gate</i> begins where <i>Death's Hand</i> left off in exploring more fully this strange, dangerous woman. The flashbacks are fantastic both in bringing the plot into focus without need of a full-fledged prequel and in showing that Elise is, if anything, in pretty good shape compared to her teenaged self. Elise and her aspis, James, are at an inevitable crossroads: he wants a normal life. She knows she can never have one, and James is the only person she truly allows herself to trust. She's struggling to play nice in her own not-quite-nice way; as sweet as Anthony is, it's clear that it's not going to work. Featuring at least one Joss Whedon screamer moment.</span></div>
Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-3528453496056326402013-12-01T07:58:00.001-08:002013-12-01T07:58:45.779-08:00Siren: first three chapters!Yep, failed NaNoWriMo miserably. This is why you back your stuff up, kiddos. (I assume children are the only ones who don't know this rule yet.) Well, at least I'm enjoying Bonnie, and I do have some good news: I'm shooting the <i>Siren</i> cover next weekend! The model will be the fabulous, the wonderful, the glamorous <a href="https://www.facebook.com/mandalorian.maven?fref=ts">Mandalorian Maven</a>, perhaps recognizable as the same model who brought J to life on the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fire-With-Super-Mari-Stroud-ebook/dp/B0080XO302/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385913332&sr=8-1&keywords=Mari+Stroud">Fire With Fire</a> cover. She's chameleon enough to pull it off. In the meantime, here's Naomi:<br />
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Chapter
One<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They
had a working system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia
worried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi distracted her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a good night, they punched people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
a little luck, tonight was going to be a good night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi leaned up against a humming air
conditioning unit and listened to the sounds of the city talking around her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clouds darkened the sky and allowed even
fewer stars to gleam through than normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi had caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection bouncing off of
a car's windshield earlier and seen her silver bodysuit darkened into gunmetal,
her flaxen hair a softly-glittering floss around her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Ophelia crouched
as a shadow on the edge of the building where they now perched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her long dark hair blew forward across her shoulders
and temporarily obscured her face from view.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi still read tension in the set of her shoulders, the sandy color of
her knuckles gripping the ledge.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Relax,
O," Naomi said at last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"A
watched pot doesn't catch drug dealers."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"She’s
still new at this," Ophelia murmured back without looking around, the lilt
of a faded Georgia accent lengthening her vowels by just a touch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She spoke too softly for the words to carry
to a normal set of ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi didn’t
possess a normal set of ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"All
kinds of things could go wrong."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
the alley below them, a young black woman wearing a jacket two sizes too large
for her walked in a pair of knockoff heels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It hurt Naomi’s heart just to look at them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she watched, the woman wobbled hard and
nearly fell before managing to catch herself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
made a tsking noise from the back of her throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She knew Ophelia heard her through the
earpieces that kept Naomi from blowing Ophelia’s eardrums out when things got
rowdy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia tensed further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much more of this, and she very well might
lunge to the young woman’s rescue before anything even happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi sat down daintily beside Ophelia and
dangled one leg down over the fire escape as her leg began to cramp and felt
the breeze trying to move her hair from its carefully sculpted halo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Late November was coming upon them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weather anchors were talking about
temperatures in the low forties, of all things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
flicked Naomi a glance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned her
attention back to the girl in the alley immediately, but not before Naomi
caught her mouth curling into a wry smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"So you’re telling me I’m hovering?" she asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Not
in so many words," Naomi answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>"And not in the literal sense, though I'm sure you could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But your baby's got to grow up sometime,
O."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A dark shape just distinct
enough to be a man caught Naomi's eye from one of the adjacent rooftops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Besides, she's got her daddy watching
over her, too."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
followed Naomi's sightline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The smile
returned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"She’s not going to be on
the yearbook staff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Give me my moments."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Down
in the alley below, the young woman finally began to attract attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man easily double her size and age
materialized from the back doorway of a pawnshop known for not asking a lot of
questions and rumored to sell much more than engagement rings and hot electronics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia and Naomi had been watching it for a
few weeks now, but both their night and day personas were becoming too familiar
to get close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man approached the
young woman and asked a question that Naomi didn’t catch even with her superior
hearing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girl took a step backwards
and tucked her chin towards her chest, doing an excellent job of looking
ashamed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man spoke again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girl took her hands from her pockets,
whether to show that she had no weapons or no money it was impossible to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia caught her breath beside Naomi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi bit at the inside of her mouth to keep
from smiling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Not
a word," Ophelia murmured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You're
going to make a great mom someday."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi kicked her dangling foot slowly back and forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Down below, the girl said something to the
man that made his face turn ugly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
grabbed her hard by her upper arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
yelped and staggered as one of her heels snapped off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The young woman stomped hard at the man’s
instep and punched him in the side of the head with her free hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She broke free, but still tottered on her
remaining heel and fell hard to the cement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The man took a step back, his face turning a shade of dangerous apparent
to Naomi even from four stories up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
yanked his foot back to give the girl a good kick to the ribs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
lunged up from the pavement, caught his foot less than a second before it
connected with her side, and twisted sharply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The man yelled and fell to the pavement hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He flailed for the back of his pants.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Pay
attention," Ophelia muttered under her breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"He's got two hands, Bonnie, you can
only see one--"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man drew a gun
from the back of his pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Damn
it!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia leapt from the
building, conveniently forgetting her lack of a trip line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A faint charge like static electricity made
the air move; Ophelia glided like a bird of prey rather than plunging straight
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi dove for the fire
escape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She leapt down several rungs at
a time, catching herself by the barest of margins with the tips of her fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi’s bodysuit clung to her and shifted
with the movements of her body as closely as if she had been naked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi landed in a light crouch a split-second
before Ophelia did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She straightened
just in time to see the girl take three bullets straight to the check and fall
over backwards without making a sound.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
opened her mouth and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">screamed</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sound poured out of her and rippled the air
like heat waves coming off a deserted road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sharp, crystalline noise broke beer bottles in the dumpsters and
shattered car windows up and down the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The man shrieked and threw himself to the ground with his hands clamped
over his ears, blood leaking out from between his clenched fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What's a pair of busted eardrums between
friends?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t those grow back? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi made a mental note to ask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
back door of the pawnshop clanged open, noise swallowed by Naomi’s banshee wail
to anyone but herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi whirled
towards it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia flinched backwards
in spite of her earpieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two extra men
rushed out the door and made it two steps towards their buddy’s aid before
deciding that bonds between criminals didn’t run that deep and trying to beat a
retreat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia narrowed her eyes; the
door slammed shut without her laying a hand on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi kept screaming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound drove the men back against the
steel door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia sent out another
telekinetic burst and clocked their heads together sharply enough to send them
sliding to the ground without any sign of getting up soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi turned off the wail.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ooh,
lookit that," she said, nudging at the first thug with the toe of her
slipper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi brushed against something
nasty on the pavement and drew back with a grimace, but not before several
packets of white powder came sliding out of the thug's pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I don’t think it’s candy."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
ignored Naomi to kneel beside the fallen girl and brush her hair back from her
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A deep line divided the skin
between Ophelia's eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi didn’t
need a medical license to know that an ambulance would be futile; the holes in
the girl’s chest were large enough to accommodate Naomi’s thumb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That kind of hardware couldn't possibly be
legal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi trilled a short note when
the thugs at the door started to stir, and they cringed back against the metal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dead girl choked suddenly and lunged upwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia leaned back just in time to avoid
knocking heads.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hey,
Bon," Ophelia said in a voice too mild for Bonnie to realize how taut and
worried her expression had been a second before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie's particular special ability resided
in her ability to heal from any wound in a matter of seconds; it didn’t make it
any less troubling to watch.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
gulped a deep breath of air and blurted, “Son of a bitch shot me!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lunged at the criminal in question;
Ophelia put her arm out and held her back easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie's sleek bob swung into her face and
obscured her flashing eyes, her set expression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi had no doubt that Bonnie was fully capable of making the thug
regret his sordid, if short, life of crime the moment Ophelia let go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
heard sirens winding their way as clear as a bedside alarm going off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Cops," she said mildly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
dropped her arm from around Bonnie’s midsection only to offer her a hand up
instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie allowed Ophelia to help
her to her feet, but immediately pulled off one of her heels and threw it at
the shooter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her aim was true; even
semi-conscious, he yelped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Bonnie,"
Ophelia said in a reproving tone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie swatted her hair back from her face
and, after a second's thought, put on her most winning smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"They're discount, I would never throw
designer."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
not the point and you know it,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was the DNA Bonnie might leave behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day, their secrets came a little closer
to the public eye, and allies in high places wouldn’t keep them save forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi didn’t say that out loud, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She scooped up the shoe, and the three of
them trotted out the other end of the alleyway just as red and blue lights
filled the entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paparazzi would
follow shortly behind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
took off the remaining heel as soon as they rounded the corner and dashed along
barefoot without seeming to care about the grime or glass on the sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time she cut her foot, it healed again
before she even took her next step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
her part, Ophelia wore heeled black boots that matched her leggings, jacket,
and jet black mask, while Naomi dressed her feet in a pair of silver slippers
that gleamed like bullets in the dim light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bonnie watched the both of them and said, "I don't know how you
don't turn an ankle."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were far
enough away by now to stop without risking being tomorrow's headline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie sat down on a fire hydrant and worked
a piece of green glass as long as Naomi's pinkie out of her heel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi made a faint sound from the back of her
throat and looked away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie’s tone indicated exactly “what.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She dug about in the wound for a few more
seconds, ostensibly making certain that she had gotten everything but really,
Naomi highly suspected, just trying to be gross.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie didn't pull her finger out for the
skin to close again until Ophelia also started turning green.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Esm<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria;">é</span> told me she was going to ban me
from the kitchen if I keep leaving unexplained blood stains."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"She
didn't mean start doing it on public streets," a male voice said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"You know better."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie straightened immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man dropped down from the awning above a deli
and landed without making a sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
was black and wore his mid-thirties handsomely, complete with a flat stomach
and broad shoulders that spent most of their days hiding in suits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wore shadow tones to match Ophelia and
Bonnie, with a mask stretched over his eyes and a light pack that could have
held anything from a laptop to a dirty bomb strapped to his back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Between the three of them, Naomi sometimes
thought that she, with her body-hugging metallics and intricate web of
rhinestones glued about her eyes, was the only one who had any sense of
adventure.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Marcus,"
Ophelia said to her ex-boyfriend, a warm note entering her voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tipped his head to her and then to Naomi with
a gentlemanly air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi nodded back and
fought down the urge to curtsy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You
left DNA," Marcus said to Bonnie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He pointed towards a few dark spots on the pavement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie scuffed her foot against the sidewalk,
tucking her chin and losing a touch of her insouciance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Let me tell you about the time I forgot
gloves while breaking into a high rise sometime."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie's chin came back up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What
are the odds that anyone will trace it back to us?" Naomi said, even
though the reproof had been a light one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She felt Bonnie looking at her from beneath her lashes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Big
enough," Marcus answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
reached into the back and retrieved a small bottle filled with clear liquid,
which he squirted across the bloodstains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They foamed white and were gone within seconds.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You're
moving into chemical engineering now?" Ophelia asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus's self-made fortune had been built
upon his ability to look at almost any machine, from a tractor engine down into
a supercomputer that could command military satellites, and intuitively know
how to take it apart and then put it back together again newer, better.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hydrogen
peroxide," Marcus answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Esmé
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>got tired of scrubbing at the
carpets."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ah."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
tilted her head and listened hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Los
Angeles was never going to be a quiet city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Having come from New York herself, Naomi didn't mind in the
slightest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"We're good," she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gestured towards Bonnie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"She did very well for someone going on
their first patrol." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia winced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie set her jaw.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"It
was her third," Ophelia said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"I can't be expected to
stay on top of your custody agreement all the time, can I?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their car was tucked away in a parking garage
nearby that didn't employ security cameras or people who asked questions, and dawn
stood only a few hours away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi heard
Ophelia say her goodbyes to Marcus and Bonnie and then come jogging after
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even at a hurry, Ophelia moved so
quietly that Naomi would not have heard her if it hadn't been for her advanced
hearing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What
was that about?" Ophelia asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
shook her head and felt her hair struggling to swish in defiance of the
intricate latticework she had constructed before heading out for the
night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She's not my protégé, I don't have to keep up
with her training schedule."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
paused, pulled back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Are you
turning jealous on me, Naomi?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even
with the mask in place, Naomi read Ophelia as clearly as if she were the
dictionary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The weight of their shared
history pushed down on her in the curve of Ophelia's mouth, her dark eyes
framed in black.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Of course not," she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia quirked an eyebrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
heard a whine that could have been a mosquito.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She hurled herself towards Ophelia without thinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi's tackle sent them both down to the
pavement hard, Naomi taking most of the landing on her elbows and barely
feeling the prick in her shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
and Ophelia leapt back up to their feet as one person and spun towards the
threat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Red taillights lit up as the car
that had been sitting quietly and seemingly empty came back to life and hit the
street hard enough to make the engine squeal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi opened her mouth and brought up a scream…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
nothing happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She produced a piteous
moue too weak to even rise above the revving engine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A second after that, Naomi realized that the
city had stopped breathing around her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By the time the car hit the corner, she could barely hear the squeal of
tires.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
narrowed her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though the car was
fifty yards away and gaining speed fast, it still skidded sideways and slammed
against a trashcan, knocking it free from its mooring and sending refuse flying
in all directions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The driver fishtailed
on the sidewalk before regaining the road--Naomi should have been able to hear
the thump of the tires and started breathing faster--and raced out of
sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia spent several seconds
saying every one of the words she chastised Bonnie and J for using.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Are
you okay?" she asked Naomi next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi swayed on her feet without answering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The world turned gray around her, and by the
time it cleared again she found herself sitting on the sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The coolness of the cement radiated up into
her backside and made her think thoughts about a thicker costume.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Naomi?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi!"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ophelia had her by the shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her face cleared when Naomi focused on her, but her grip did not loosen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"What happened?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I'm
not sure."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi fumbled at her
shoulder and expected her fingers to come away bloody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No such luck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She pulled a small dart, no bigger than a bee, from her skin and held it
up to reflect in the streetlights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ophelia said the words again and rose from her crouch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I
can catch up to them."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"No,
don't--"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Leave me</i>, Naomi almost said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her head cleared by the second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Cotton still swaddled her ears, though, and her throat--there was
something very wrong with her throat, all the worse for not being painful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi might feel better if it had hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"We know what this is."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Catherine had improved on Evelyn’s research,
made an injectable serum that could take someone’s powers away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t permanent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
still looked dubious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi pushed
herself back to her feet and ruined it by tumbling sideways against a car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia appeared at her side before Naomi
even saw her move and slipped an arm about her waist..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Whoa,
O," Naomi murmured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"Didn't
think my inner ear was that much of a special snowflake."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Why
would it be any more mundane than the rest of you?" Ophelia answered. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled, but not without worry lines
deepening the skin about her mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Bigger
problems,” Naomi said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She glanced in
the direction of the disappearing car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Let’s get back to Marcus’s, cut the head off of the snake.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
Chapter
Two<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
drove her cherry-red BMW down a winding back road noticed by few of the local
residents, even though Marcus lived on property that might actually be worth
more than diamonds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he even owned
the road itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi had never
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She sat in the passenger seat
with her elbow braced up against the window and her head resting in her
hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sun crept over the horizon in
long, questing fingers, taking the trees and turning the spaces between their
leaves into motes of pure gold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
might be a city girl through and through, but she understood the appeal of
living out in the middle of nowhere when the view did <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i>—or at least living close enough to still order good pho
without having to look at your neighbors all the time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
exquisite as the sights were, though, they only served to remind Naomi of what
she missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Birds, the summer insects
that would have died out months ago back home, the gold-dusted leaves rustling
back and forth in the light morning breeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It made Naomi want to stick her pinkies into her ears like someone
experiencing pressure dissonance on an airplane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A purely hypothetical someone, as Naomi had
never actually experienced pressure dissonance on an airplane, even when she
had just been raised-by-hippies weird.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
are you thinking?” Ophelia asked from the driver’s seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi turned away from the window to find
Ophelia studying her hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her girl was
back in civilian clothes, as was Naomi herself, with her long dark hair falling
in waves around her shoulders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Traces of
eye-black still clung to the skin around her eyes, but Ophelia’s hasty
scrubbing of earlier had turned them soft and smudgy like eyeliner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the way the dawn light touched her skin…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yeah,
but still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No amount of moisturizer
would take care of the line between Ophelia’s eyes if she didn’t watch it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi reached out and rubbed her thumb into
the crease until it smoothed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One corner
of Ophelia’s mouth twitched up, but she didn’t stop watching Naomi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A good thing she had driven this road enough
times to navigate it by muscle memory, then.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Who,
me?” Naomi asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not thinking about a
thing other than kicking some ass, O.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
pinched at the inside of Naomi’s elbow and finally turned her attention back to
the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi rolled her shoulders and
went back to watching the trees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a
few minutes of silence, Ophelia drove her car up to a metal gate almost
invisible among the foliage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though the
cameras were if anything even more carefully hidden than the gate, Naomi still
felt electronic eyes upon them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gate
glided open without a sound, not even rustling the leaves, and allowed Ophelia
admittance to a small gravel road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
followed it until the trees gave way to a large stone mansion better suited to
the East Coast old money than sunny California.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ophelia parked her car in front of the house, and they exited in order
to walk up to the front door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before
Ophelia had a chance to knock, the door swung open of its own accord to reveal
a small, elderly woman with vividly carrot-orange hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi blinked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far as she knew, only Marcus monitored the
back entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Esmé
,” Ophelia said politely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Marcus got my
message?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He
told me you might be stopping by.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Esmé <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>inclined her head with a perfect if perhaps
slightly chilly politeness and stepped aside to allow Ophelia and Naomi
entrance into the home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before Naomi and
Ophelia had been Naomi-and-Ophelia, there had been Ophelia-and-Marcus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though most of the tension had bled out of
their interactions with the passage of time, Esmé <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>still found ways to make her loyalties
known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The rest of the staff has been
given the morning off.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ah.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus kept an ever-revolving retinue of
domestic staff, Esmé <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>being the only
stable point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More than once, Naomi had
asked Marcus how much Esmé <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>actually
knew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More than once, Marcus had
responded with a blank look and a vague answer that only left Naomi more
curious than before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He’s
waiting for you in the library with Miss Bonnie.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Esmé <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>turned without another word, presumably
trusting them to make their way to their destination without damaging
themselves or any artifacts of the house along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She’s
coming around,” Naomi told Ophelia confidently.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“At
this rate, she’ll be giving me away at my wedding,” Ophelia answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They continued down a long hallway decorated
with an unlikely mixture of expensive art and mementos from Marcus’s youth in
New York City until they reached the library, itself filled with an equal
combination of first editions that would have set Naomi’s parents to screaming
about the decadence of the upper classes within moments and second-hand spy
novels held together with tape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enormous
windows took up most of one wall to allow in the same golden dawn light that
had so fascinated Naomi on the drive in and illuminated the room’s two
occupants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus had changed from his
head-to-toe black uniform in exchange for gray slacks and a dark pullover
sweater, in spite of Southern California’s defiance of anything that could
actually be considered “cold.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie
sat cross-legged on the floor in jeans and a loose blouse, ignoring the couch
behind her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pecked at a handheld
tablet amidst a series of growling noises and didn’t look up until Naomi and
Ophelia were entirely within the room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hi,”
Bonnie said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smiled brightly and
flicked her hair out of her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Feeling a little under the weather?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bonnie,</i>” Marcus reproved sharply, and
Bonnie tucked her chin closer to her chest for a second before raising it at a
defiant angle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”
she asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s going to wear off,
there’s no reason to act like someone died, geez.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
have a birthday coming up, don’t you, Bonnie?” Naomi asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She didn’t hear the testy edge in her voice
until Bonnie’s eyes widened slightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi ordinarily tread lightly around Bonnie, mindful of how tightly she
had come to cling to Marcus and Ophelia as pseudo-parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi’s head hurt, though, and she honestly
wasn’t in the mood.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
a beat, Bonnie grinned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Christmas,
too,” she answered cheerily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Don’t
worry, J’s already promised to get me coal.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She hopped from the floor to the couch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi took a seat on the opposite end and massaged at her aching
temples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia’s concern radiated
through all corners of the room like lamplight, its brightness at the moment
hurting Naomi’s eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Doesn’t
matter that it’s going to wear off,” Ophelia said briskly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Matters that you were shot at all.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She lifted her eyebrows at Marcus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Come up with anything?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nothing
in the past hour, no,” Marcus answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He showed his teeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But I haven’t
had my coffee yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of the usual
suspects are in town, but…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus
raised his shoulders into the very faintest of shrugs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On him, it was equivalent to an open
declaration of war.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We
don’t have very many usual suspects,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She raised her boot from the floor and seemed
very near to kicking the rug before remembering how expensive it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Damn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The one time it would really help if villains stayed as visible as the
rest of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re sure that Catherine is
really, truly dead?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
saw her autopsy on a celebrity death site,” Bonnie burst in cheerily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She kept tapping at her tablet while every
head in the room swiveled towards her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As the silence wore on, Bonnie finally raised her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well, I’m not on one <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">now</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus has me looking
for weirdo crimes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wrinkled her
nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m not sure how to tell a weirdo
crime from a normal one, though, super-powered people are still probably going
to want to steal the same things that normal people steal.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“For
now,” Ophelia murmured under her breath; Naomi’s pulse sped up for a moment,
thinking her hearing was returning, until she realized how close Ophelia had
drawn to her without her notice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia
gripped at Naomi’s shoulder lightly before moving away again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The more we up the stakes, the more they’re
going to do the same.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie lifted her
eyes from the tablet as Naomi brushed her fingers against the inside of her
elbow, scarcely noticing she was doing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, they all had vivid recollections of what happened when super-powered
people decided to combine ambition with utter amorality.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ll
keep looking,” Marcus said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Or rather,
Bonnie will keep looking.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie took
on a faintly disgruntled expression, but did not protest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went back to manipulating the screen of
her tablet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi rubbed at her temples
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sound should have been like a
gunshot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should have been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ll
see if Mindy knows where Jane’s at these days,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Maybe she’s kept in contact with some of
Evelyn’s people.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pulled out her phone
and began tapping herself, presumably sending a message to Mindy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her fingertips across the screen made no
sound at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most people would have
called Naomi’s enhanced hearing chaotic, would have been unable to distinguish
the important noises from the dross and sent themselves floundering over a
cliff as a result, but Naomi had been doing this since she was an
adolescent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not being able to hear, her
ears and her throat both feeling as though they were swaddled like an infant,
left her as exposed as a nerve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
dug her fingertips a little harder into her temples to soothe the headache
building there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Someone
touched her on the forearm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi jumped
so hard that she nearly went over the back of the couch, and she caught herself
less than a second away from kicking Ophelia directly in the face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia stared at her with wide, wide eyes,
but she didn’t take her hand away from Naomi’s skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi sank slowly back down to the couch
cushions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sorry,”
she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie watched her with open
amazement from her place a few feet away, while Marcus’s face held the kind of
deceiving non-tension Naomi had learned meant his brain was really whirring
away at speeds most people could never hope to match.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m kind of keyed-up.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
said your name three times,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She let go of Naomi’s arm at last with a short nod, as if coming to a
decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Okay, that’s it, we’re going
home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
fine—“ Naomi started.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shut her mouth
before Ophelia managed to answer that statement with the look it deserved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ll be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a little bit.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
can be home for that little bit,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi had a mind to argue further—the idea of Bonnie and Marcus doing
all the work in tracking down whoever had taken Evelyn’s serum while Naomi sat
uselessly by actually sent spikes of pain through her head in time to her
headache—only to give it up as Ophelia curved her fingers beneath her elbow and
tugged her back to her feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’ll
keep looking,” Marcus said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie made
an undignified snorting noise from her end of the couch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You know, you don’t have to go on solo
patrols any time soon if it looks like your research skills are slipping.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Blackmail,”
Bonnie muttered in a disgusted tone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
fingers across the tablet still started moving faster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“That’s a dirty tactic and you know it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
favored Marcus with the kind of smile that made Naomi see absolutely why he had
fallen for her, because it was the same smile that had knocked Naomi’s legs
right out from under her the first time she saw it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They left the house without seeing another
soul, even the disapproving specter of Esmé .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That
was a helpful strategy session,” Naomi groused as they pulled back out onto the
road and began the drive back to civilization.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
slid Naomi a glance, startled and if anything even more worried than
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sarcasm, Naomi?” she
asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Not usually your purview.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hmm.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi fumbled about in the car’s glove
compartment until she found a spare pair of sunglasses and slid them onto her
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her headache began to abate
slightly, and Naomi relaxed against the seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You didn’t have to leave, you know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could have driven the car home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
but how would <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I </i>have gotten home?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
turned her head and flashed Ophelia her best saucy grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It must have worked a little, because the
line between Ophelia’s eyes became slightly less deep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You keep working on your telekinesis like
it’s the latest fitness fad, won’t be too much longer before you’ll be able to
fly.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
made a dismissive noise and waved her hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi still caught her girl glancing at her from the corner of her eye
when she thought Naomi wasn’t paying attention; Ophelia might be willing to
play along for now, but Naomi clearly didn’t have her convinced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m a good year away from being able to
fly,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Two if you talk me into
any more of those silly cleanses.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Then
Marcus could give you a ride in the jet.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Would
tear the hell out of the rooftop garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We’re still getting funny looks over the soundproofing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
laughed in spite of herself, putting her hand quickly against the back of her
mouth in order to smother the sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They drove in silence through the hills until trees gave way to richly
manicured landscapes with high fences around them and then eventually the boxier
shapes of commercial civilization, just starting to wake up from the long
night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia and Naomi lived in an
exclusive apartment building on Wilshire, paid for by a monthly check from
Ophelia’s share of stock in her late parents' companies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The garage was cool and dark as Ophelia
guided her car in, the shadows immediately soothing Naomi’s eyes and easing her
headache slightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The doorman nodded to
them as they headed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of long
habit, he politely averted his eyes as Naomi’s hand found its way possessively
into the back pocket of Ophelia’s jeans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi removed her hand once the two of them entered the elevator to
slump against one another, only for Ophelia to put her arm about Naomi’s waist
and pull her close.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Relax,
O,” Naomi said, and put her lips against the side of Ophelia’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’ll wear off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t exactly face a high caliber of
villain these days.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
made a noncommittal noise from the back of her throat even as she stopped
squeezing Naomi quite so tightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ophelia worried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi distracted
her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damnit, Naomi really could have
done with someone to punch right about then.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
elevator dinged softly and admitted them on their floor, taken up almost
entirely by Ophelia’s enormous penthouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi’s heels tatted against the hardwood floors, and she caught her
reflection shot in a dozen different directions across chrome and silver
surfaces picked out by one of the finest interior decorating services Los
Angeles had to offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That had been
before Naomi and Ophelia had become Naomi-and-Ophelia, in the years when
Ophelia and Marcus had still been the perfect couple and Naomi had only been to
Ophelia’s place a few times as a guest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
entered the bedroom only long enough to take off her heels and kick them in the
vague direction of the closet before returning to the main body of the
loft.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morning light streamed in from the
huge windows; though the pink of dawn had long since faded, at this altitude
there was still a softly golden cast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi walked up to the window and looked down, concentrating hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sounds of traffic barely traveled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She grit her teeth against each other and
worked her nails against the glass until they made a squeaking noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let Bonnie do the research on whoever had run
this merry prank on her—they all had to learn sooner or later—but Naomi
intended to take the reins back just as soon as the perpetrator was found.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then kick their ass soundly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
heard Ophelia moving about in the kitchen, followed by a clanging noise and a
soft curse. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She followed the noise to
find her girl standing in the center of the large and exquisitely modern space
that neither one of them used for more than making coffee and boiling water
most of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia’s brows were
drawn together so tightly that Naomi was half-way tempted to make a crack about
spa days for the both of them, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">stat</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bowls danced in the air in a graceful circle
around her, shuffling from one counter to the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flour drifted from one of the cabinets and
tilted to pour into the largest of the bowls, didn’t quite make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia threw out an oath fit to blister
paint from the walls as a white mushroom cloud puffed up from the tile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We
have flour?” Naomi asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bowl dipped
and then clanked against the countertop as Ophelia’s concentration
wavered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia sent her a vaguely
reproachful look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi grinned and
ducked mixing bowls in order to reach the coffeemaker, the one appliance in the
kitchen that loved her as much as she loved it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A whisk snagged at her hair as she passed under it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though she was planning on a long, hot shower
to wash all of the product from her hair, anyway, Naomi still made a
disgruntled noise and batted at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Learn something new every day.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She reached the coffeepot, snagged a mug that Ophelia helpfully floated
over to her from the air, and poured herself a cup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi took a big swig, not bothering with her
usual cream and sugar, and smiled as her ears popped loudly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Already coming back to her old self.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Eggs,
too.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia demonstrated by opening the
refrigerator door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And milk.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two cartons came sailing out and only slammed
into the counter a little bit before Ophelia drew them under her control
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was thinking pancakes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
took another sip of coffee to hide her smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Thank you,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But I’ll
be all right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just need to sleep it off.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
frowned and poured milk into a bowl with rather more force than was entirely
necessary, especially given that she gave up on the telekinesis and just used
her hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It shouldn’t have happened
in the first place,” she groused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This
isn’t a mugging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we have bigger
players coming in, I want to know about it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They
probably wouldn’t get a chance to know about the Evelyns and Catherines of the
world until they made their power moves, Naomi thought but did not say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor did she point out that she and Ophelia
and Marcus, the public way they had decided to protect their city rather than
waiting on 911 calls, probably played a big role in the big players coming out
in the first place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a dark
thought, and Naomi blamed it on the remains of her headache.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went to one of the cabinets in search of
aspirin with which to push it away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Give
me a few hours of sleep and I’ll go hunt them down with you,” Naomi said confidently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia flashed her a grin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time, she over-tipped one of her
metal bowls and sent her half-made batter splattering against the kitchen
floor, cream-colored flecks arcing across the tile and making Rorschach
patterns against the cabinets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia
said a word that would have scandalized her if it had come from Bonnie or J.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
have a room to practice telekinesis in,” Naomi pointed out dryly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Filled with all of the ugliest ceramics the
two of them could find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes, Naomi
suspected, Ophelia was less practicing her control of her powers in there and
more working out her frustrations with their increasingly complicated standing
in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And I’ve eaten your
cooking, O.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s why we have takeout
menus.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
answered with a mock-indignant sniff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“If I can’t manage pancakes without setting the kitchen on fire, then we
just need to give up on saving the world now,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Any fool should be able to handle pancakes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
made a soft noise and hid her smile behind her coffee cup as Ophelia went to
cleaning up the mess from the floor with her mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty minutes later, when the kitchen reeked
of smoke, Ophelia was swearing with enough volume and creativity to make even J
perk up and start taking notes, Naomi escaped into the bedroom with a
laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She opened the windows and
listened to the cooing of birds on the roof, imagining her hearing coming back
already.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
Chapter
Three<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
alarm clock woke Naomi by trilling loudly on the nightstand, and she knew
immediately that something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The alarm clock made a soft clicking sound before it began blasting in
earnest, always had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Furthermore, Naomi
rarely even needed to listen for that signal, as attuned as she was to the
sounds of birds talking to each other as they settled in to roost on the roof
overnight and the blaring of nightlife traffic starting up down below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She heard nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she rubbed at her throat, she <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">felt</i> nothing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Evelyn’s
serum wasn’t wearing off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Feeling
her eyes widen and her breath starting to come faster in her chest, Naomi sat
up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She placed her fingers against her throat, in the hollow where her
collarbones met, and pressed down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
opened her mouth and tried for a short, sharp trill to match the alarm
clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A sigh emerged instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi increased the pressure of her fingers,
pushing against her vocal chords until spikes of pain radiated out from her
nails, and tried again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just a little
coo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing big, just something to
rattle the mirror on the wall and make the dogs in the middle perk up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
did slightly better on the second try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>An ugly croak fell forth from her lips, half-sob.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi put her hand over her mouth and hunched
down on the bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
can hear that all the way in the living room, how are you not—“<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia entered the doorway and stopped
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi should have heard her
coming down the hall by the pad of her feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She didn’t realize her girl was even there until she spoke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Naomi, what is it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
not wearing off,” Naomi said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia’s
face and body froze as one, her entire stance changing to become that of a
predator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What do you mean?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
mean exactly what I said,” Naomi answered, and let out a short little laugh as
she heard her voice shake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s
not—it’s not coming back.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
been over twelve hours,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She crossed the bedroom in three long strides, already pulling her cell
phone from her pocket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slim and sleek,
it wouldn’t be seen on the market for at least another eight months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A present from Shaw when he was trying to get
into their especially good graces; Marcus had spent three days crawling over it
with his own toys before he pronounced it secure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi wondered which one of them Ophelia was
calling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Little
problem just became a big one,” Ophelia said grimly, and Naomi received her
answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s been over twelve hours,
even if it was a big dose—“<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus said
something to make Ophelia pause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
cradled the phone against her shoulder and looked at Naomi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Any improvement?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any at all?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi shook her head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia
said something blistering before going on, half to Marcus and half to Naomi,
“We should have paid more attention to Evelyn’s labs instead of just destroying
it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia paused, an even deeper line
drawing itself down between her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No,
I know it’s not my fault, it’s the fault of the fuckstick who shot her, and I
want to find them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hung up and
turned towards Naomi, plastering a bright smile on her face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
raised her eyebrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was standing
three feet away, O, you’re not going to fool me with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve gone baseline, not completely deaf.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
sighed and ran her hands through her hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Mindy got in touch with me today,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jane doesn’t know anything, she says, but
she doesn’t want to come to Los Angeles to say that to my face, either.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi inclined her head slightly to one
side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With Jane, that could be an
indication of guilt, but Jane was also near-terrified of Ophelia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi doubted she would show her face in Los
Angeles even if Ophelia was calling her about a lifetime supply of free
mani-pedis.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We
should have learned more about Evelyn’s serums,” Ophelia repeated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She pitched her voice low enough that Naomi
strained to hear her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
worried, Naomi distracted her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This is
not your fault, O.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And on a good night,
they punched things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
snapped her head up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I know that,” she
said, but her tone didn’t manage to be nearly as fierce as the one she had used
against Marcus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ran her hands
through her hair again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Okay, back to
basics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll go on patrol where you got
shot and see if anyone remembers a car like that hanging around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll—“<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Check
out everywhere else we’ve been patrolling for the past few weeks,” Naomi
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia opened her mouth to
protest, and Naomi held up her hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I
can’t be a stay at home wife, O.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
ain’t the fifties.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
still hesitated, clearly torn between pushing the matter and respecting Naomi’s
wishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Take some of Marcus’s tech with
you, all right?” she finally asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Marcus’s
tech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t have abilities like the
rest of them and made up for it by being able to construct a nuclear bomb out
of a paperclip and a bag of Doritos if the mood struck him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi had known him for way too long to
discount his abilities based upon a little old thing like being genetically
normal, but it still stung to be relegated to carrying pepper spray.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her feelings on the matter must have shown in
her face, because Ophelia reached quickly for her hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
just don’t want you to get hurt,” she said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
know,” Naomi said, trying to smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
skin on her face felt stretched too tight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I’ll be careful, I swear.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
turned for the bedroom without looking around to see if Ophelia would follow,
going on faith where once she would have been able to hear the soft pad of
footsteps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi reached the closet and
extended her hand automatically towards the silvery bodysuit before drawing
back at the last second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
seemed…wrong, somehow, to draw it on while she was broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She reached for a dark pair of jeans instead,
a black pullover sweater.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No flash
tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No glamour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That felt almost as wrong, but Naomi forced
herself to pull on the clothing, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ophelia reached past her into the shared closet for her dark leggings
and jacket while Naomi sat down at the vanity and began brushing out her
hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her skin was a light porcelain
shade and her hair only slightly darker, which made her deep brown, nearly
black eyes stand out all the more sharply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The overall effect was that of a space alien viewed through the lens of
Loubitin, which Naomi never shied away from encouraging.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tonight,
though, she needed to focus on blending in, not standing out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi gathered her hair back into a ponytail,
the strands almost slippery in her fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She watched through the mirror as Ophelia pulled her dark leggings and
jacket from the closet and tossed them onto the bed—couldn’t leave the
penthouse wearing them, after all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
girl pulled on bandage dress made of a gleaming silk, red as a racing
heartbeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey,
there, pretty girl,” Naomi cooed through the reflection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was thinking we could hit up Rio after
patrolling.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
paused in the middle of pulling on her heels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The worry line that had not left her for hours deepened visibly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“With you on the fri—“<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She caught herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“With you not one hundred percent?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi scrutinized her face in the mirror for
a moment, decided that the dark sweater and plain hair was sad enough as it
was, and reached for her pot of eyeliner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Tugging her lower lid down to make sure the line went on smoothly made
for a good excuse not to meet Ophelia’s gaze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi twisted her wrist as she reached the edge of her eye, flicking the
liner up slightly to give herself a cat-like point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She grinned briefly at her reflection before
beginning on the other eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Got to keep
up appearances, O.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mmm.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia reached past Naomi for her lipstick
and painted on a bleeding red pout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi glanced at her from the side of her eye and caught Ophelia staring
at her with that ever-present line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
was going to make her lipstick feather if she kept pursing up her mouth like
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi sighed and handed her the
lip liner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia rolled her eyes and
bumped against Naomi’s shoulder with her elbow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Twenty
minutes later, the two of them strolled out of the penthouse together, nodding
once to the elevator attendant as he eyed Naomi up and down—she usually dressed
more like a hybrid of space alien and Christmas tree than a beatnik.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve been reading <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">On the Road,</i>” Naomi said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ophelia tightened her arm about Naomi’s waist and made an undignified
sound from the back of her throat as she struggled to hold in her laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They made it to the car without drawing
further attention to themselves and took backstreets to a storage facility that
took cash and had notoriously faulty security cameras.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia changed quickly from her dress and
heels into her body-hugging black leggings and leather jacket before pulling
her hair back into a ponytail and sliding a slim dark mask over her face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within five minutes, the woman of twenty
minutes before had vanished into a starkly beautiful shadow, not seen unless
she wanted to be seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi used what
little light came through the partially-open storage door to pick out the red
of Ophelia’s lips.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
think you should take the car tonight,” Ophelia said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though her mask hid much of her face and the
shadows took the rest, Naomi read the worry in her voice as clearly as if
Ophelia had written it in neon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In spite
of herself, a twinge of irritation rolled through Naomi’s body.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“A
BMW in some of the neighborhoods we patrol?” she asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Might as well put sparklers in my hair.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ophelia
tilted her head to one side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Naomi,
I’ve had to stop you from putting sparklers in your hair before.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Ophelia’s waist, and kissed her
lightly on the mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They weren’t
lit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She slipped from the storage unit
before Ophelia could reply.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Los
Angeles was a huge, sprawling city, but Naomi was well-versed in traveling it,
and Ophelia kept her storage unit near their usual routes for a reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even on foot, Naomi traversed the distance
quickly, sticking to shadows and deserted side streets out of habit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her muscles, well-used to scaling buildings
and fences, were barely even warmed up by the time she reached a neighborhood
she and Ophelia typically picked muggers out of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">At least something’s still working right</i>,
Naomi caught herself thinking sourly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She reached up to rub at her throat, only to jerk her hand away as she
realized what she was doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ophelia
worried, and Naomi distracted her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
could have used with a distraction or two herself right about then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You’re
the one who insisted on going alone.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi squared her shoulders and left the shadows, jogging quickly across
the street to an all-night convenience store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The kid working the counter jerked his head up quickly at the sight of
her, a good reflex to have in this particular neighborhood—she and Ophelia
tended to break up a lot of muggings over even less money than a graveyard
shift till would call its own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid
continued to blink at Naomi even after his initial surprise wore off; even in
dark, nondescript clothing, it was fairly obvious that Naomi’s wardrobe cost
more than what most of the residents of this part of town could boast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His gaze skittered over her face next, and
Naomi’s heart beat just a shade or two faster for a moment, but no gleam of
recognition crossed his features.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of
course not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heavy eyeliner or not, Naomi
was still wearing far less makeup than her usual, and people tended to look at
Ophelia far more than they did her, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By design.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hi!”
Naomi said, putting on her chirpiest voice and leaning across the counter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Could you do me a big favor?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid’s eyes widened slightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi took slightly different stock of her
wardrobe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn't <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> much eyeliner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Um, I
broke up with my boyfriend recently, and I kind of think he’s been following
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You haven’t seen anyone weird hanging
around, have you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
do you mean by ‘weird’?” the kid asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He cast Naomi another up-and-down glance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She flicked a few strands of hair back over
her shoulder and lifted her eyebrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He
drives a big black car,” Naomi said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“And was probably hanging out in parking lots way longer than he should
have been?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid continued to stare
at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi decided that this was all
so much easier when she could just jump down dramatically from fire escapes and
demand information, except that it was far more socially acceptable to make
low-level criminals pee themselves than barely-legal kids with the bad luck to
be working graveyard at dead-end jobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Haven’t
seen anyone like that,” the kid said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
tilted his head to one side and took a small step back from the counter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great, not even in costume and she was
freaking people out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi did her best
to smile in a winning way as she noticed a battered ATM that looked as if
several people had tried to half-heartedly break into it sitting opposite the
entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It might get a good view of
the parking lot and street if someone managed to do a little tweaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi craned her neck as subtly as she was
able to see if the same could be said for the security camera angled to watch
the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the first time in nearly
twenty-four hours, a genuine smile crept across her face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thanks,
anyway,” Naomi said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned to go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
look really familiar, though,” the kid said, and Naomi paused just inside the
threshold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned her head just
slightly and watched as the moment of almost-comprehension passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Did we got to high school together or
something?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
managed a smile, brighter and far faker than the one she had shown seconds
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I don’t think so,” she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“But thanks for the compliment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I moisturize.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She left the convenience store and jogged
quickly across the parking lot, turning her face away from the cameras on old
instinct even though out of the silver she was nothing more than someone taking
a stroll they maybe should have thought out a little better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could have slapped herself in the
forehead for not thinking about the cameras sooner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would have to dig, and maybe even ask a
favor or two of Marcus, but the gas stations riddling the street corners had to
have cameras in their parking lots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Digital age, nothing went by unrecorded even if it did manage to go
unremarked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
Naomi slipped into an alleyway to start plotting out the camera locations, a
shadow dropped almost directly beside her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi reacted on instinct, opening her mouth and letting out a short
shriek that echoed about the enclosed space and came far closer to a B-movie
heroine’s dying wail than anything worthy of busting out an eardrum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi rushed her presumed attacker as the
pathetic sound faded away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ducked a
wild, startled swing and slammed the person against the brick wall with Naomi’s
own forearm pressed firmly against their throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The person’s head smacked up against the side
of the building with a nasty sound, and they let out a flurry of curses Naomi
had heard more than once from a certain hard-drinking, platinum-haired bad
influence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or for that matter, from a
certain dark-haired, rarely-drinking good influence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bonnie?”
Naomi asked, stepping back and flexing her fingers as the tingle of adrenaline
faded from her body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
girl stepped away from the brick and probed gingerly at the back of her
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her fingers came away red with
blood; a dark stain marked the place where her head had collided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi automatically began scrubbing at it
with the sleeve of her shirt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Um,
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ow</i>,” Bonnie said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ran her fingers through her hair until it
was arranged over the worst of the mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I think you broke my skull.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
could have given me brain damage.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus’s
first meeting with Bonnie involved fishing her body from the Pacific Ocean
without having any idea how long she had been floating there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi waited in silence until Bonnie rolled
her eyes and said, “It counts even if it doesn’t stick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What’s wrong with you, anyway, do you put the
neighborhood potheads in Intensive Care, too?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
shifted her shoulders, feeling guilty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sorry.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie looked surprised by the apology, which
made Naomi regret slightly having made it in the first place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had never been anything but kind to
Bonnie; Bonnie’s issues with Naomi essentially being the stepmother in the
dynamic between Ophelia, Marcus, and herself were Bonnie’s own business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Which one of them sent you to check up on
me?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey,
I can’t be worried by myself?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
answered that with another look until Bonnie sighed again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jesus, taking your microphone away makes you
crabby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve been practicing that look
from Ophelia, too, don’t lie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus thought
you might need a little extra oomf tonight.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Kind
of him,” Naomi said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie crinkled her
nose at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi gestured to the
cameras around them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“How much has
Marcus taught you about hacking?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Bits and pieces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gets mad when my eyes glaze over.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Think
you could get into those?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If someone
targeted me specifically, there’s a good chance they know where Ophelia and I
hunt.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi waited a beat while Bonnie
tilted her head to one side and gave the cameras the long-suffering look of
someone facing more boredom than their soul could possibly be expected to deal
with.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh,”
Bonnie said finally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You know, I think
I forgot everything Marcus tried to teach me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Falling right out of my
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We still use VCRs, right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
need to know these things, Bonnie.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi let more of the stress from the past day enter her voice than she
intended, and Bonnie jerked back immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t
make me tell you you’re not my real mom,” she snapped, leveling her finger at
Naomi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And you’re not getting rid of me
that easily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcus all but made me
swear in blood to keep an eye on you tonight.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bonnie bounced onto the balls of her feet for a moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I offered to swear in actual blood, but he
didn’t see the humor.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
lifted her eyebrow and repeated an opinion off-expressed by Ophelia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You spend too much time hanging around J.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
bounced again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“She’s not a bad
influence on me, I’m a good one on her.”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She
pulled a small device from her pocket, easily mistaken for a smart phone in the
hands of another teenager with overdeveloped thumb muscles, and began tapping
rapidly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Wi-fi’s awesome, by the way,
most people don’t even realize how vulnerable they’re leaving themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This’ll be in Marcus’s servers inside of five
minutes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie didn’t seem to remember
that she had been complaining about being assigned boring tech work less than
five minutes before, until she raised her head abruptly and flashed Naomi a
smile just a little too sharp to be real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“And don’t be getting too snotty with me about learning the boring
stuff, either, I don’t see you carrying around any of Marcus’s toys.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
allowed herself a thin smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It would
mess up the lines of the bodysuit,” she answered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
need to think about investing in a utility belt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or hiding it in your hair.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie continued tapping away, making
contented humming sounds to herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi wondered if Bonnie’s boisterous mood had more to do with being
turned loose largely unsupervised for one of the first times, or with Naomi
being knocked off-balance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most likely a
little of both.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
crack of a gunshot made Naomi jump in spite of her neutralized hearing; her
body spun towards the sound automatically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To her side, Bonnie did the same as smoothly as a predator noticing
prey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither of them spared so much as
a glance for the other before they started running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi had enough experience in heels playing
her role with Ophelia to eat up the cracked sidewalk in long strides, even
outpacing Bonnie’s gazelle-like legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her ponytail streamed out behind her, her heart beat faster in her chest,
and she felt her mind sliding into the cool readiness that always came before a
good fight in get-ups that most people would tactfully suggest required the
wearer take a good dose of Thorazine and a few seasons of Project Runway.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
skidded around a corner, already counting down the seconds in her head until
the police arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If nearby residents
called for help right away, if they didn’t get put on hold, if the nearest
officer didn’t check the address on his in-car computer and immediately request
additional aid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running through the
variables, she had plenty of time to handle the situation and vanish again even
without her rhinestones, provided nothing weird happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jerking onto open sidewalk, Naomi paused just
long enough to take stock of the situation and triangulate the sound as well as
she was able in her current state.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
cars or victims on the street, meaning the gunshot had to have taken place in
one of the businesses or apartment buildings ringing the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi focused on windows with lights shining
in them and found her attention immediately zeroing in to a convenience store
with bars across the windows and fresh paint across its façade suggesting that
graffiti and the store’s owner were not strangers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi caught sight of two figures inside; one
huddled behind the bulletproof glass barrier separating clerks from customers
while the other stood in front with his shoulders squared up around his ears
and the stance of someone unmistakably looking for a fight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi kicked her heels off at the door and
plunged ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">He’s not holding his arm out,</i> her mind supplied to her from the
distant, back part trained by Evelyn years before to hone in on every detail
for the ones that could bite her in her toned rear later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strange to threaten someone with a gunshot
and then lower the weapon immediately afterwards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
made it two steps into the door before the supposed gunman noticed her and then
one step beyond that before <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">she</i>
noticed the woman on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dark
hair spilled loose from a clip to cover most of her face, and her hands clasped
across her eyes obscured the rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
curve of her spine, body hunching in on itself to make a protective bow, made
Naomi’s stride stutter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She jerked her
gaze back up to the supposed gunman just in time to see his eyes start glowing
supernova white.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bonnie,
get down!” Naomi yelled over her shoulder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She turned her forward momentum into a vault over the nearest
shelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her ankle caught the edge of the
metal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pain shot up her leg to her knee
and the shelf teetered, sending canned goods and individually wrapped
medications showering down around Naomi’s head and shoulders as she landed on
the other side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi caught herself on
hands and knees and closed her eyes tightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A brilliant, searing light that Naomi sensed even through her shut lids
flared around the store, followed less than a second later by the same
tremendous cracking noise Naomi had mistaken for a gunshot moments before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Protected as she was by the shelf, Naomi’s
skin still tingled all over as if in the wake of too much time spent under a
tanning bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie shrieked from the
doorway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
opened her eyes again and swayed from side to side as her vision still filled
with spots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She felt around her until
she located one of the fallen cans and stood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her eyes watered fiercely and turned the figure in front of her into a
blur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi hesitated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
figure called her a name nice boys didn’t use to refer to women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi’s hearing was still good enough to
triangulate on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She jerked her arm back and whipped the can
as hard as she could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A satisfying bonk
sound followed, a spray of curses coming fast on its heels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi scooped up two more impromptu weapons,
one for each hand, and darted around the edge of the aisle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She kept her body low and followed the path
of invective as a guide to hurl another can just as the white glow began to
fill the store again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now she could aim by sight as well as
sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi pegged the would-be robber
directly between the eyes; his nose made a sound like pretzels snapping as it
gave in under the metal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The curses took
on a distinctly desperate and wet sound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi hefted her final weapon in hand and felt her bare feet sliding in
something as she raced across the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Must have broken something on the shelf during her jump.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The clerk would just have to comp her the
cost of a busted bottle of olive oil as gratitude for still having eyes in his
face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi reached the thug as he
struggled to get back to his feet, planted one of her own directly in the
center of his chest, and raised her final weapon over her head.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sweetheart,
I wouldn’t,” she said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She’s
got a really good point,” a voice from the doorway said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi cocked her head in its direction
without lowering the can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I mean, look
at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those are not the eyes of a sane
person.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My
eyeliner’s running,” Naomi replied calmly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You can’t blame a girl for that.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
draw on your face deliberately,” J said, just barely low enough to avoid being
heard by either the punk or the woman on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi shot her an alarmed look, and J had the
grace to look at least a little chagrined as she raised one shoulder into a
shrug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had never bothered with
hiding her face, either before or after picking up a high-profile probation and
some very impressive friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a
louder voice, J went on, “Surrender’s the better part of getting your ass
kicked here, buddy, trust me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Minute
jets of fire shot up from the thumb of one hand and rippled across her fingers
like stadium spectators doing the wave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>J’s grin turned absolutely wolfish.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
punk spit derisively at Naomi’s foot; the white light started to fill up his
eyes again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J whistled sharply from the
doorway; the punk took his attention off of Naomi just in time to catch a dart
directly in the center of his chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
slumped, the light flickering out from his eyes as slowly as a computer
powering down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi took her foot away
and watched him carefully.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Marcus?”
she whispered from the side of her mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He asked them to test his toys, sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He preferred to keep away from
pharmaceuticals, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Figuring for
metabolism could be tricky on the fly, and none of them aimed to be killers
unless absolutely no other option presented itself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nope.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J said a world within that single word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tucked a gun barely larger than a
lipstick back up her sleeve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J wore a
white pantsuit that just almost looked suitable for street wear, provided one ignored
the fact that her jacket didn’t button until practically her navel and she
tended more often than not to decide that blouses were for other people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her short, white-blonde hair stuck up in
spikes all over her head without the need of styling products, and she had
large blue eyes to balance out a jaw just this shy of being too square.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Possibly because she jutted it so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It certainly held a dangerous clench now as
she stared down the unconscious punk for a moment or two longer before going to
Bonnie where she had collapsed just inside the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi knelt beside the woman on the floor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ma’am?”
she asked softly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman shifted, but
made no sound and kept her hands pressed to her face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably going into shock, Naomi realized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She replayed the way her entire body had
prickled even from the smallest backlash of whatever the hell kind of radiation
the punk had been able to throw out and shivered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi put her hands against the woman’s
wrists and pulled down gently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Help is
on the way.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She glanced questioningly
over her shoulder as she said it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J
nodded once and helped Bonnie into a sitting position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie’s hair flopped forward and covered her
eyes, but she began to squirm and slap at J’s hands almost immediately.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
fine,” Bonnie snapped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m…oh, crap, I
think my eyes are growing back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, ew.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
winced and succeeded in tugging the unresponsive woman’s hands down from her
face at last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The damage wasn’t as bad
as Bonnie’s; the woman must have caught an indirect hit rather than the full
blast Bonnie got knocked with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sharp red
blisters still rose up on the skin around her eyes and nose in a macabre and
bloody imitation of the rhinestones Naomi used as an impromptu mask when she
was officially on duty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman’s
eyelashes were gone, her lids so raw-looking that Naomi wasn’t certain she
would have been able to open her eyes if she didn’t appear to be going into
shock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She threw an aghast look over her
shoulder at J.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J’s face didn’t hold much
more color than her suit.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“MLP
will be sending medical help, too,” she said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“MLP?”
Naomi asked, though she had who the first responders would be from the moment J
pulled out her little gun.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>J
nodded, jutted her jaw harder, and stood over the punk as if she wouldn’t mind
giving him a kick or two with her heavy white boots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Can’t send someone like that to a regular
prison.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Right.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi saw the necessity of it even as she
couldn’t stop herself from touching the rose-shaped scar centered in the inside
of her left elbow all the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
eased the woman back down to the floor and peeked as far over the edge of the
service counter as the bulletproof glass allowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You okay in there?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No response.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
don’t smell urine,” J offered helpfully.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She extended her hand down to Bonnie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“How you doing, Bluebonnet?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
never eating eggs again,” Bonnie answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She took J’s offered hand and got back to her feet, swaying a
little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi watched the last of
several blisters suck themselves back into Bonnie’s skin like acne running in
reverse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Pizza might be a bad plan,
too.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
knelt back beside the woman on the floor just as two black SUVs pulled up in
front of the store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two men and one
woman who walked through the door could not have look more like government
officials if they tried, making a small corner of Naomi’s mind not focused on
the situation at hand weep for the future of taste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Granted, Ophelia often liked to remind her
that Naomi had been fond of wearing little else than Christmas tinsel upon
their first meeting, but it had still been well-fitting tinsel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those suits just hurt Naomi’s heart.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
all right, ma’am, we’re here to help,” the female official said, kneeling down
beside the civilian on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her
voice remained steady and kind even as her face paled upon seeing the damage to
the other woman’s eyes, which endeared her to Naomi immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two men, meanwhile, cuffed the punk and
had him half-standing before Naomi had room to do much more than blink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They pulled him towards one of the vehicles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He began to come around at the door, his head
lolling back and forth on his neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Blindfold,” one of the male agents said sharply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other darted for the vehicle with such
speed that his partner nearly dropped the punk entirely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie shifted her weight from one foot to
the other and opened her mouth to speak until J laid her hand against her
arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie’s expression remained
restless as ambulance sirens wailed down the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Naomi,”
she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi waited for Bonnie to
protest the actions taking place inside the store, but she only pointed at
Naomi’s leg instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi looked down
to see the calf of her jeans painted dark with blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She must have cracked it against the edge of
the aisle shelving as she leapt over and not noticed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turned out it wasn’t spilled olive oil she
had slipped in rounding the corner, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’ll
be able to provide you medical attention and handle this mess,” the female
agent said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She still knelt beside the
fallen customer as she began to regain consciousness, keeping track of her
pulse and making shushing sounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ambulance sirens wailed more closely by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Discreetly,” the agent added as if she read Naomi’s mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi nodded once, but couldn’t stop herself
from glancing at the bloody trail around the corner as she limped out the door
with J and Bonnie following close behind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t
worry,” J murmured to Naomi as Naomi took a ginger seat on the bumper of one of
the SUVs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other was already gone,
and its cargo with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ll make sure
they don’t get handsy with the blood samples.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She winked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And I’ll make sure
the video footage from the store takes a mysterious turn for the worse.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Marcus
is already doing that,” Bonnie replied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She tapped a few more squares on her phone and slid it into her pocket
as J produced a first aid kit from the SUV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi waved her off and rolled up the leg of her jeans to see the damage
for herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t look as though she
needed stitches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi cleaned and
wrapped the wound quickly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Responsibility
suits you,” she said, lifting an eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>J
shrugged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her jacket just barely managed
to stay in place across everything needing to be covered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi was impressed in spite of herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Beats a jail cell,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And, hey, expense account?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does not suck.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Where
are your friends taking that guy?” Bonnie asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A slight edge had entered her voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J looked at her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Relax,
Bonsuela, I’m not drinking the Kool-Aid just yet,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He’s just going to cool his heels in a very
special cell of his own where he can’t fry his guards’ eyes out until a jury of
his peers figures out what to do with him.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>J paused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I can’t believe I’m
supporting law and order.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie’s
expression remained uncertain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
reached out and touched her lightly on the forearm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie startled and leaned away, her face if
anything growing more troubled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi
had a feeling it had more to do with Bonnie’s memories of Evelyn than her
tension towards Naomi herself and decided to leave it alone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
ambulance came screaming around the corner, finally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie and Naomi slipped around the side of
the SUV and away from the streetlights with ease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J, in her brilliantly white suit, tended to
stand out a little more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went to
greet the EMTs with her hands on her hips as they rushed past her and into the
convenience store.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
never going to not be weird,” Bonnie said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Naomi hummed from the back of her throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Do you think she means it, about that guy
just going to a jail cell?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
think J is constitutionally incapable of lying, B,” Naomi answered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
made an irritable swatting motion with her hand, as if shooing away an
insect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Don’t call me nicknames, only J
gets to call me nicknames, and only because I haven’t figured out how to make
her stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we’re all liars, or else
you and Ophelia and Marcus wouldn’t use masks every night.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
an awfully cynical way of looking at it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
shrugged a little and wrapped her arms around herself even though she wore a
jacket and the night was not cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve
seen what happens when people like us get locked away,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It makes you cynical.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“This
isn’t the same thing,” Naomi argued.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
snorted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Everyone says that right
before they do something awful,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The EMTs came out of the convenience store with the wounded woman loaded
onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask already affixed over her nose and mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An IV ran from her arm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi felt her face turn hard.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That
woman’s going to be scarred for life,” she told Bonnie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie glanced in the direction of the
stretcher, flinched, and became very interested in the nearest neon sign.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“We’re dangerous, sometimes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
stopped studying the sign and set her mouth in a line that made her suddenly
five years older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Yes, we are,” she
said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You know what makes us more
dangerous?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being locked in cages.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
huffed, very aware that Bonnie’s reaction to her words would be vastly
different if Ophelia had been the one to say them and equally aware that to
point that out at this juncture would not be a wise idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J ambled up to them as the ambulance pulled
away; her shoulders were tight despite her loose and easy gait.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t
feel too sorry for him, Bon,” she said, reading Bonnie’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You didn’t have to look at what he did to
you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I
still felt it,” Bonnie said stubbornly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She picked at the sleeve of her jacket and studied her possibly-illegal
phone by lieu of answering further.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thanks
for the save,” Naomi told J.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>J
shrugged and very nearly did something indecent with her jacket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi thought about the spare set of clothing
she had stowed in Ophelia’s car, though the gash to her calf probably ruled
dancing out of the question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I was in
the area,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Marcus has Bonnie
lo-jacked.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie let out a scandalized
noise and held up her phone as if contemplating smashing it against the
sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’m kidding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Starshine from back there has been getting
increasingly naughty for a couple of weeks now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Shaw asked me to look in on it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
could have been more people burned like the woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi pushed her weight from one foot to the
other for reasons other than her throbbing leg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Why didn’t Ophelia and I know about this?” she asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And why didn’t Shaw call us in rather than
you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>J
shrugged again and idly plucked at her jacket while Bonnie stared as if already
putting together a whole new wardrobe in her mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You and Ophelia kind of live in your own
bubble,” she said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And Ophelia
is…Ophelia about the whole MLP thing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Meaning that Ophelia barely tolerated them and only worked with them on
a handful of grudging occasions in order to keep an eye on them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They still should have noticed Starshine
making his rounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi frowned.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’re
smudging your lipstick,” Bonnie pointed out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s
performance art,” Naomi said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Everything is performance art if you try hard enough.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ve
got to get back, check in,” J said, jerking with her head to indicate the
remaining SUV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Being law-abiding really
sucks sometimes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I just wanted to
let you know, I don’t think Shaw called me back to Los Angeles just to mop up
one little robber, even if he was getting violent.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure,”
Naomi said distantly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Thanks for the
heads-up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll pass it on.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>J
leaned in closer to Naomi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Are you all
right?” she asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I’ve seen you fight
plenty of times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never seen you try to
brain someone with a soup can before.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Naomi
hesitated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Little under the weather,”
she said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“She
got shot with some of Evelyn’s draino-juice,” Bonnie supplied, though she at
least managed to sound concerned about it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
line drew itself between J’s eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why
the hell are you out here rather than waiting for it to wear off?” she
demanded.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s
part of the problem.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi shifted her
weight again and winced when her bad leg scolded her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Do me a favor?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next time you talk to Shaw, ask him if he’s
heard about any activity on Evelyn’s old channels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He might have more luck than Ophelia or I
would.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonnie looked horrified, J
merely surprised.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sure
thing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>J rolled her eyes and gestured
over her shoulder at the convenience store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I got to go pick up some more trash along the roadside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll let you know if I find anything
out.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She turned away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi tested her leg and decided that it hurt
enough to justify calling a cab once she had gotten a safe distance away and
cleaned up her eye makeup a little, not enough to justify cancelling her appearance
with Ophelia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She took several steps
before Bonnie collected her wits enough to follow, and then the girl grabbed
for her shoulder so hard Naomi nearly did a pirouette.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Are
you crazy?” Bonnie whisper-hissed at her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Shaw?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re going to go to
Shaw?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
not going to him for anything,” Naomi said firmly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If MLP has resources that Ophelia and I
don’t, it only makes sense to use them.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She trusted J in her promise to keep inquisitive swabs away from her
blood, by virtue of burning down the convenience store and then plastering on
her best innocent expression if necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“You do know that
they just put someone in a cage, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Like Evelyn did.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not
even remotely, kiddo,” Naomi answered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Bonnie’s eyes narrowed dangerously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Not for the same reasons, not the same people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t forget that Evelyn was afraid of them,
either.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Just
because Evelyn was evil didn’t mean she was stupid,” Bonnie said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jesus, I thought you were some kind of
hippie or something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bite
your tongue, I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bathe.</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naomi paused and used the window reflection
in a closed shop to swipe at the skin beneath her eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not too awful; she looked unlike herself
enough to fool a cab driver, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Bonnie
clucked her tongue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh, Ophelia is
going to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">yell</i>,” she said, sounding
just satisfied enough to make Naomi wonder why people were so determined to
have children.<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-62348833616128739642013-11-24T14:37:00.002-08:002013-11-24T15:08:18.373-08:00REVIEW: Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest<br />
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All right, I'm going to be frank: you might have noticed that this review is a little bit of a departure for me. Not in the sense that it's done over a terrible, terrible horror film. (I hold those to my bosom and perhaps coo over them a little bit. The neighbors ask me to stop in increasingly worried tones. We have a fun relationship.) Rather, in the sense that it's a review of a horror film made in 1995 with the proceeds of my couch cushions delivered from the future. The only two cast members who are remotely famous today are Nicholas Brendan, who is a basketball-playing extra, and Charlize Theron, who dies of being stabbed through the vagina. I'm relatively certain that they both have attorneys drawing up C&Ds for me purely for mentioning their names in connection to this glorious hot mess.</div>
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Children of the Corn III first came to my attention due to the thespian talents of Mari Morrow and Duke Stroud, they who inspired the very astute question: "I write about superheroes. Why the hell do people keep finding a straight-to-VHS mess when they search for my name?"</div>
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We open our tale with two brothers running through a corn field pursued by their abusive father. (Look, I'm not going to warn for spoilers on any of this, okay? It's old enough to vote; if you want to save your sanity, you should know enough to look away now.) One is Joshua. We know he's the good one because he's blond. One is Eli. We know he's the bad one because his hair is dark. Joshua and Eli both act as they've never encountered electricity or indoor plumbing before, which opens up a plot hole in the last third of this movie, to say the least. Never mind. We'll get there. Joshua and Eli stumble across each other and bicker a little bit, which leads to Joshua running off while Eli promises to be right behind. Joshua is not a very good older brother. Joshua is not very good at a lot of things, including facial expressions. Mean Daddy comes up, confronts Eli, and is stretched up to become a scarecrow, complete with having his eyes and mouth stitched shut, while Eli buries his Cornhole Bible at Mean Daddy's feet. Joshua comes back, Eli tells him he has no idea where Mean Daddy is, they flee into the night. The camera then cuts up to Mean Daddy writhing on his...post? Brace? I don't know scarecrow terminology. That's right, Joshua failed to notice the squirming, moaning person nailed to a post literally four feet away from him. When this movie came out, the "Good is Not Dumb" page on TV Tropes spontaneously burst into being out of self-defense because OH MY GOD.</div>
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We next cut to a Chicago bus station where a social worker (she's black, by the way; any time anything remotely "urban" happens in this movie, assume it's done by a black person) is explaining to a nice suburban couple that the boys have been through a lot and might have some trouble adjusting to big-city life. How did Eli and Joshua manage to come into contact with Social Services, given that they used to live in 1792? How are they still so incredibly naive if Social Services found them and put them in the system to await adoption? This is nowhere near the most outrageous gang-bang logic is going to submit to over the course of the movie, so buckle up. Anyway, our nice Adoptive Mommy and Adoptive Daddy take the boys to their new suburban home, and the boys manage not to crap themselves over the fact that they now have an indoor place not to crap themselves. Joshua is blamed for breaking a glass knick-knack by Adoptive Daddy based upon standing vaguely near it. The boys are shown the backyard, which runs up to an abandoned factory (inexplicably not visible from the front of the house) and warned not to go past the fence. I think we all already know that someone is totally going past the fence. Joshua, meanwhile, ambles next door to encounter a brother and sister pair playing basketball. They are "down". You can tell this because the brother (Malcolm) is wearing a pimp hat backwards while his sister (Maria) is playing in a miniskirt and heels. Yes, they are black. Anyway, there's a little fish-out-of-water back and forth between the siblings and Joshua until Adoptive Daddy sticks his head over the fence and sternly tells Joshua not to talk to strangers. I...what? M&M (see what I did there) live next door. You were warned that your new adoptive son had no social context outside of small towns, but he's already making a pair of friends. This is what we would call a good thing, yes? I think Adoptive Daddy is basically just really racist. I think several people involved in this movie might be basically just really racist.</div>
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We have the obligatory scene in which Eli snaps a fit because his adoptive parents don't automatically say grace, and then we cut to Adoptive Mommy and Adoptive Daddy checking in on their new wards as they sleep. In spite of their shared room containing two beds, the boys are sleeping side by side in one. This will become jaw-droppingly creepy later on. Right now it's only "clear your browser history" creepy, as the adoptive parents assume that the boys have never had separate beds before and are simply baffled by our modern ways with their lack of bad touches.</div>
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You guessed it. Eli totally sneaks out of the house and goes past the fence, where he throws around some corn.</div>
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The next morning, the boys are shown to their new school, which is Catholic. As Eli made it fairly clear that the boys are staunch Protestants of the slightly coo-coo Midwestern variety and their adoptive parents do not appear to have any strong religious convictions, logic sighs and reaches for another condom. Adoptive Mommy walks the boys to their classes, which actually makes sense. Joshua is clearly one "SQUIRREL!" moment away from wandering into traffic and Eli appears to be about eleven. Eli doesn't care about social humiliation and Joseph doesn't appear bright enough to know when he should be embarrassed. So Joshua is shown to his class, whereupon Eli immediately has a shit-fit over the fact that he and is brother have to be in separate classes....OH MY GOD. Eli takes a seat and is immediately hassled by the greatest racial stereotype captured on cinema since Dumbo. This kid would be outdated and offensive in 1973. He's wearing a bomber jacket with a pimp hat turned around backwards, and he immediately challenges Eli (who, again, appears to be about eleven) by daring him to suck the giant racial stereotype's dick. More and more as this movie goes on, I wonder how many of its makers have FBI files and/or have been justifiably met in dark alleys by members of the NAACP.</div>
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Joshua later bests Malcolm and a host of other ethnically diverse youths in basketball in spite of attempting to eat the ball the day before, because of course he does. Nicholas Brendan is never more glad to have a non-speaking role in his life. Eli--wait for it--pitches a fit, this time over the fact that Joshua is having social contact with someone who is not him. In light of later revelations, these boys should never be allowed within fifteen feet of each other. At least one of them is a pedophile.</div>
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Adoptive Mommy spies Eli sneaking past the fence to tend his corn. In spite of having no concrete reason to believe there's anything wrong with him outside of a lack of social skills, she turns towards the camera and makes Bad Seed Face. Oh, why the fuck not, it's not like Adoptive Daddy's antipathy towards Joshua makes any more sense. She tells Adoptive Daddy, who goes to see for himself and finds that Eli's been growing corn. AD almost fertilizes the soil over this, because he's some kind of big commodities trader in corn, which automatically means that he knows how the fuck it grows. (At this point, logic requests a glass of water and a chance to massage out some muscle cramps.) Rather than being angry with Eli for disobeying the rules and putting himself in danger, like a responsible parent would be, he's elated over the money he can make off of the super-corn and actually gets angry with AM for disturbing Eli's hobby. I...guys? Were you not showing off the massive backyard, like, thirty minutes ago? Is there any good reason why Eli can't just build himself a little plot in a place not filled with heroin needles and rape corners? In the meantime, Joshua is grounded for existing.</div>
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Eli turns corn into cockroaches to poison the school into being his happy minions and is disciplined by the Padre for being a better preacher than the Padre is. Dude, don't invite the kid up there if you're a crappy enough leader to be shown up by a little kid. I would also like to point out that the actor playing Eli is having all kinds of fun being an evil little shit, which probably led to many alarming parent-teacher conferences when he returned to the real world.</div>
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The social worker finds out some troubling information about Eli, namely that he's an evil little vampire. He kills her, but not before she unleashes a hilarious, grumbling rant about tax dollars and public-sector pay. It's delivered in pure Angry Black Woman, of course, because these fucking writers, but it's also one of the most realistic moments of the movie. I witness these rants, minus the egregious racial stereotypes, pretty much every day at Ye Old Day Job.</div>
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Joshua and Maria wind up making out; Joshua is way too familiar with the ways of other people's bodies for someone as socially isolated as he's purported to have been, and several alarming truths about Mean Daddy slam into place. Malcolm walks in on Joshua and Maria and immediately yells out the bros before hoes speech. Joshua is not sure how farming and fornicating are connected, except that sometimes the cows made funny sounds in the barn at night back home.</div>
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Adoptive Mommy gets angry about her roses dying, because attributing that to Eli's garden makes perfect sense, and goes to cut down his corn. Over her roses. Not over his willful disobedience and increasingly disruptive and violent behavior, but over her roses. Keep in mind, we're supposed to see AM as the good parent here. In a shocking turn of events, Eli kills her. He then uses the opportunity to bond more closely to Adoptive Daddy and get him thinking about shipping the super-corn all over the world. Eli is the smartest person in that house, and I am sort of rooting for him at this point.</div>
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Joshua answers the door shirtless (for someone who was so freaked out over modesty that he refused to wear modern clothing upon first arriving at his new home, this kid shucks out of his shirt for pretty much any reason whatsoever) and accepts a package for the late Adoptive Mommy. Turns out she's been looking into the creepy little vampire child, too, and he was the same age in 1964 as he was in 1995. Joshua grabs Malcolm and the two of them head to Gatlin to get Eli's special McGuffin, the Cornhole Bible. Along the way, Joshua reveals to Malcolm that 1) Eli is actually his adoptive brother, 2) he was fourteen when he and Mean Daddy moved to Gatlin, and 3) he and Mean Daddy moved to Gatlin so MD could conduct agricultural experiments. And this is the point at which I LOST MY SHIT. So. So, wait. Eli and Joshua are not blood brothers. They have only known each other for a maximum of four years. Mean Daddy, NOT shown to be the most altruistic of men, adopted Eli when he was around seven or eight, Joshua HAS had contact with the outside world before, and MD is in fact a legit scientist rather than a Ichabod Crane. Okay, fuck it, I am no longer sad that the social worker died, because it's pretty fucking obvious at this point that Mean Daddy made those boys call him "daddy", if you know what I mean. Eli's behavioral issues are clearly much less about otherworldly evil and much more about untreated PTSD. I will be on his side for the remainder of the movie.</div>
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Back at the ranch, Eli convinces Maria to aid in the killing of her own parents because....corn? In Gatlin, Malcolm dies horribly because who needs black people while Joshua deals with finding his dad on the scarecrow-thinger (it's enough that I'm writing this synopsis sober, fuck if I'm going to do research) and lets out the most awkward line-reading of "Papa?" ever caught on film. He sounds like a three year-old finally admitting to the therapist where Daddy touched him, only to turn around and find Daddy standing in the doorway with a bottle of the special Nyquil. These poor, poor boys. He grabs the Bible and tears back to Chicago, where Eli has given up all pretense and is basically just killing all the things. He kills the Padre, he kills Adoptive Daddy, he comes very close to killing the ridiculous racial stereotype (who is now dressed in head-to-foot black leather, and after awhile you stop even reacting to the racism any longer), and he assembles his minions in the factory-garden for spooky mood lighting. This is literally the only reason to garden in the factory than, you know, the fucking backyard: Tiki torches only glow properly against distressed concrete. </div>
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Joshua shows up and is shockingly not really betrayed by his brother's betrayal, or maybe the actor is just terrible. They lob fireballs at each other a few times (really), and then Eli runs off into the corn. Joshua takes off after him while the minions, hilariously, just sort of stand around and watch. Joshua literally punches one of them in one of the most awkward and telegraphed punches I have ever seen, and they sort of blink at each other and wonder why fist-thrust make face flesh ow and no-nice. Joshua and Eli scarper about until Joshua finally stabs him, and then shit gets real in the most over-the-top piece of unreality ever filmed. Using stop-motion film techniques last seen when King Kong was threatening Fay Rae, Eli bursts back out of the ground as a Play-Doh cricket monster and grabs Maria, who is at this point represented by a Barbie. (I'm not kidding.) Ridiculous Racial Stereotype gets impaled by vines and sucked into the ground as he's leaning over to retrieve his switchblade. (I'm not kidding.) One girl is impaled through the cheek and responds by doing the First School Dance Shuffle. (I'm not kidding.) Eli binds Joshua to a wall, and I wish I was kidding, because these poor children never stood a chance, did they? And then this happens:</div>
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You might recognize her as future Oscar winner Charlize Theron. In her brief time onscreen, mostly taken up with writhing and screaming, she is undeniably the best performer to come within a hundred miles of this acid trip into the simultaneously darkest and laziest part of the human soul. And in the screen cap above, she is about thirty seconds away from dying by being stabbed through the vagina. We all have to start somewhere, I guess. </div>
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Joshua suddenly develops kung-fu feet, flips a scythe into his hands, and kills his brother. The end...or is it? Of course not, because none of us could be so lucky. Adoptive Daddy has arranged for a crate of Eli's corn to be shipped to Germany, where shady members of the corn black market cackle at each other.</div>
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A mystery is solved, and I need a drink.</div>
Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-42168571736822295862013-11-11T10:26:00.001-08:002013-11-11T10:26:26.097-08:00REVIEW: Thor 2A few days post-premier, but I was busy chewing things over. And generally twirling in a circle and cooing, because did I ever love this movie. Actually cutting for spoilers for once! (I know!)<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Let's get the big one out of the way first: the rumors are true, Frigga dies a lot. She ain't coming back. She's gone, she's buried, and don't worry if you get something in your eye. I totally did, too. Rene Russo, how are you so freaking amazing? I loved how smoothly she lifted the knife from the guard; long has fandom speculated that Loki picked up his general tricksiness from her.<br />
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And speaking of...<br />
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Loki is going to be the role that Tom Hiddleston is long going to be remembered for. (You still need to watch <i>The Hollow Crown</i>, though. Amazing work.) He hit all the right notes: grieving, snarky, wrathful. I loved the ambiguity of the ending. (Please don't kill your father, Loki. Even though Odin was far more in line with his comics characterization of Worst Daddy In the History of Daddying*.) An extra nod goes to Anthony Hopkins, who managed to incorporate just enough of Loki's mannerisms to make me go, "Waiiiit." before the big reveal happened.<br />
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What I really want to talk about, however, is the characterization of Jane Foster. Jane never really grabbed me in the first Thor film (DARCY, THOUGH, OH MY HEART), and the spoilers swirling about in the months before the movie scared the crap out of me. Marvel really has done better by its ladies than other superhero franchises (though I will still not be satisfied until I get my Black Widow movie, damn it), but a lot of that can be attributed to the fact that, wow, it doesn't take much to range ahead of the back. Hearing that Jane was going to spend a large portion of the movie possessed and passive in addition to the death of Frigga...well. It didn't not inspire confidence. My exact words on the subject might have along the lines of, "Oh, fuck that shit with a rusty chainsaw." (Because I'm classy.)<br />
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Yep, Jane remained disturbingly passive while she was possessed. However, she became possessed in the first place by being Jane: doing science without the first thought towards consequences. And once she shook off the Aether, home girl rocked her science-doing face off. She saved her the freaking world, Thor just provided the muscle. Didn't get her before, but firmly consider me a Foster's Fellow from this point forward.<br />
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Now, before I go, I want to make a brief comment on the <i>Winter Soldier</i> trailer. When Bucky caught the shield (both badass <i>and</i> an allusion to the fact that Bucky does spend some time as Captain America), I might have made a sound. And then I had to ask myself a very important question: what is sending me to hell faster, being attracted to a currently psychotic assassin, or wanting to molest someone who is technically mentally ill? I'll let the audience decide.<br />
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*He just shoved John Winchester off his shitty-dad throne. JOHN. WINCHESTER.<br />
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<br />Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-37577509296498485742013-11-06T09:19:00.002-08:002013-11-06T09:21:00.077-08:00On Kamala Khan<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/11/06/books/marvel-comics-introducing-a-muslim-girl-superhero.html?_r=0">Marvel Comics is introducing a new Ms. Marvel.</a><br />
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She's Muslim.<br />
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Because I've already gotten into one dust-up that shocked me with how much casual racism is still acceptable (person who doesn't even read comics says that a Muslim hero anywhere, ever is unrealistic), I'm going to keep this short and sweet.<br />
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Buffy Summers, Rachel Berensen, and Xena were seminal (ironic, considering where I'm going) to me as an adolescent. Do you know why? Because they re-welcomed the era in which girls could be heroes. Prior to that, I had to identify with the boys. And I did, as the advertising agencies knew I would, but I still remember the incredible, <i>exultant</i> feeling of seeing a female hero and thinking, "Hey, maybe that could be me!"<br />
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So to everyone who wants to shit on Kamala before she even makes her debut: what if you never got to see yourself as the hero before? What if she was the first time you got to identify with someone who looks like you and, rather than being a dirty terrorist, got to be <i>remarkable</i>? <br />
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I'm just sayin'.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-88686877156571482172013-10-21T19:00:00.000-07:002013-10-21T19:00:04.458-07:00NaNoWriMo and You: the Advice of a 50/50 Success StoryWe're gearing up to my very favorite time of the year, Halloween. After that, though, comes my second-favorite season: National Novel Writing Month, also known as NaNoWriMo. I won in 2011, and the result was <i>Leech.</i> I failed miserably last year and haven't been able to restart the project since then. (Perhaps because I have been away from the poisonous influences that inspired <i>Eat</i> in the first place for several years now, so call it a backdoor win?) Here's what worked for me on the year I did win:<br />
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1) Routine. Find out how you best work and stick to it. When I was in college and working out of longhand in a notebook, I could sit down for five minutes and absolutely disappear into the work before popping right back up again. (Apologies to the professors who got sixty percent of me at best.) During the window between graduating and grown-up work, I learned to write from a laptop from an hour before I had to get dressed for the obligatory degrading retail job. At my first Big Girl job, I took my laptop with me and physically removed myself from distractions during breaks and lunches. Now that Ye Old Day Job is in a neighborhood where it's honestly not safe to carry a laptop with you, I work out of a thumb drive.<br />
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2) Find the vices that help you, find the vices that hurt you, and eliminate accordingly. I am, believe it or not, a morning person. I wake up a good forty-five minutes before I actually need to and spend it dancing about, drinking coffee, and talking to myself. My weakness for terrible pop music (I've given up and resigned myself to worshipping at the altar of Katy Perry) lends to that; so, for the month of November, it has to go in favor of character playlists. (Except that Bonnie is a mixture of hip-hop, punk, and punch-your-fist-up diva ballads, so this might blow up in my face on the bop-inducing front.) I'm also a fan of the vino. Since I have a good feeling that my best work is going to be done in the evenings and on weekends, that is also going away for the duration of the month. The iPhone will also be placed in someone else's hands during working periods. But you'll pry my tea and white noise out of my cold, dead hands. :)<br />
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3) Know how you write. I'm an outliner. If I pants it, the bones of the story just aren't there, so I freak out and toss a perfectly serviceable tale. I outline ahead of time, being careful not to give too much on the truly sweet scenes (so I'm still having fun when I get to them), and then step back to look at the whole picture. I'm a little behind on Bonnie's outline, but this series has been in my head for so long that I know exactly where I want her to land.<br />
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4) Just write the damned old thing and don't worry about editing. You are not publishing on December 1st. The important thing is to get it out, and throw yourself a party afterwards.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-83186600654600614872013-10-07T15:44:00.001-07:002013-10-07T15:44:47.429-07:00Delivery day!Was actually two weeks ago. I'm kinda lazy.<br />
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Yes, <i>Siren</i> is done and off to the betas, and I'm leaping forward to do the outline on <i>Bulletproof.</i> I hope to have <i>Siren</i> out by the end of the year, but you know me and promises by now. Naomi, as I have said before, was a difficult character to figure out. For so much of the series thus far, she's been either a side character or a pushing point between Ophelia and Marcus. She's been something that the other characters have to act against rather than her own self. I think I finally found that self. A good thing, as Naomi's role in the Grand Finale is <i>huge.</i><br />
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And now looking forward to NaNoWriMo and Bonnie, my dear Bonners.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-1982506239644523162013-09-15T16:59:00.000-07:002013-09-15T16:59:08.136-07:00The most important event of the fall.<br />
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The weather is probably starting to cool if you live above the equator. (Please, send me some.) A lot of people out and about in the meat world with are extremely excited about the beginning of football season. Yay, pigskins and violence! Well, as much as I enjoy bacon and hitting things, my interest in sports rests in the negative, so my main reason for loving fall is this: TELEVISION PREMIERE SEASON!</div>
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<b>Nikita:</b> About to have its last hurrah, I'm afraid. The third season got a little more sci-fi than its world could support, I must admit, but Nikita as a character, and the show as a whole, hit the right notes far more than the wrong. I'm going to miss her terribly.</div>
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<b>Arrow:</b> Back for a triumphant second season! I've always been predisposed towards liking Ollie, but I have to say that Ammell is the best Ollie I've seen to date. And the ensemble cast is <i>perfect.</i> (I do wish someone other than Katie Cassidy had been cast as Laurel, though. If--and I pray, I pray to the writer gods--Laurel is ever going to become Dinah Freaking Lance, she's going to have to step up hard.)</div>
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<b>Elementary: </b>I started watching this show mostly out of spite over the truly awful, racist, sexist bullshit hurled at Lucy Liu. Once I settled in, however, I found myself honestly enjoying it. Johnny Lee Miller hasn't been one of my favorite actors in the past, but he brings a brilliant nuance to his portrayal. And Joan!</div>
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<b>Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D: </b>Oh, please. Like you didn't see this one coming.</div>
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<b>Sleepy Hollow:</b> Or this one, either, for that matter.</div>
Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-35849849798964049202013-09-10T17:45:00.002-07:002013-09-10T17:50:00.093-07:00I will never grow up past twelve.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemn6YM6t_RXpih12SNJ6kGx-mxP8XHGoDhyphenhyphenQmCL1Nt_l-WwAERV5paFN16FfqV292SnsbbzlRSIyc60Eg-7IQEtLprMZAUvOON75Ppy1BAfV_DG6ZvYW-y96jRPuLxnO83cKTXp_WuyXh/s1600/photo-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemn6YM6t_RXpih12SNJ6kGx-mxP8XHGoDhyphenhyphenQmCL1Nt_l-WwAERV5paFN16FfqV292SnsbbzlRSIyc60Eg-7IQEtLprMZAUvOON75Ppy1BAfV_DG6ZvYW-y96jRPuLxnO83cKTXp_WuyXh/s320/photo-1.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Ye Olde Day Job is holding a "secret pal" game to boost morale; the basic gist is that we each have a secret pal that we're giving little gifts to each week, with a big reveal to take place in October. Clearly, my secret pal knows me extremely well. I wrote everything in longhand until I graduated college and got my first laptop (this is what happens when you're po'...and even as I type that I can picture the truly po' folks out there lining up to kick my ass, so never mind). Though I've joined the modern world and do my drafting and editing out of a computer (likely thus saving myself early-onset arthritis in my fingers and wrists), I still do all of my outlining out of notebooks. The prettiest notebooks I can find, with pens containing the shiniest and most childish of ink colors. I carry them about, I cuddle them, I know this is strange. A coworker actually had to ask me if I needed them removed from my possession until the day was over.<br />
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I might have bared my teeth and growled a little. I'm not perfect.<br />
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However, now that I'm close to finishing Naomi's book (an admittedly hard birth), I'm starting to think ahead to post-Super things. (Now you watch <i>Bulletproof</i> kick the living crap out of me.) I've had a series of books centering around the Lilith myth chasing me since high school; they sort of haunt me. I can't think of a better place to put the outlines. Putting dark books under happy veneers always amuses me.<br />
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(Yes, that is my desk, and the rest of it is even worse. I actually had to frame the picture carefully to avoid revealing people's sensitive information. But I know where everything is!)Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-16739107198462699262013-08-30T05:14:00.002-07:002013-08-30T05:14:27.651-07:00Fellow geeks, I say unto thee: chillax.<br />
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Yes, we've all heard the news by now. Yes, Ben Affleck is going to be Batman. The sky is falling, DC is doomed forever, we're all still going to see this movie <i>but we are by-God use our Comic Book Guy voices as we do it.</i></div>
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Guys. It's going to be all right. Allow me to make a plea on behalf of Benny.</div>
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1) <i>Gigli</i> was a long time ago. Lord help me if I was still held accountable for all of my lapses in taste and judgement over the years.</div>
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2) Argo.</div>
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3) Hollywoodland.</div>
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4) His directorial history. I highly disliked <i>Man of Steel</i> on the basis of its being too grim and failing to understand the ultimate optimism of Supes in the slightest, but DC has decided to take their cinematic universe in a darker direction and it is what it is at this point. Batman is a noir figure; Affleck is excellent at noir.</div>
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Give the man a chance, oh intarwebs. I thought Chris Evans and Mark Rufalo were going to be steaming piles of cat mess when they were announced, and I could not imagine any other actors playing Steve Rogers or Bruce Banner now.</div>
Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-41762227555186045112013-08-26T16:10:00.000-07:002013-08-27T17:09:24.616-07:00I just want to throw this out there.<br />
So...Miley Cyrus, she of legal age, does a sexually provocative performance to Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines." The world is horrified.<br />
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Robin Thicke, he who came up with the song in the first place, does a sexually provocative performance of "Blurred Lines" with Miley Cyrus. The world says, "Nice suit, bro."<br />
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Male privilege doesn't get much more blunt than that, folks.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-8232956753836538542013-08-23T17:57:00.000-07:002013-08-27T17:08:11.705-07:00Ah, we are such strange creatures.As I was a-writing today, I had to do something-awful-to-a-character-I-love/make-a-character-I-love-do-something awful/all-or-both-but-they-triumph/I'm-melodramatic-they-get-a-torn-nail at Ye Olde Day<br />
Job. And I broke down crying. I mean, the <i>ugly</i> kind. It was not a polite, ladylike lament. There was snot. People were concerned. And I was completely at a loss as to how to explain it.<br />
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This is the thing. I tend to grok towards certain character types, but I don't do Mary Sues. (If anything, I'm often told that my characters are <i>too</i> snotty and aggressive.) My persons all have quirks and flaws, sometimes very deep ones*. I'm used to dealing with characters Being Very Naughty or going through Very Naughty things. I giggle when I kill my darlings. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME HERE? I used to be objective. I swear I was.<br />
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...well, I could fake it, anyway.<br />
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*I am a sad little redemptionista. I love watching characters fall to their very bottom and then scrabble back up, bloodied and wiser. It ties both into the part where I love them and where I'm a wee bit sadistic. All I can say is: I used to be in fandom.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-87568054141065067572013-08-13T16:55:00.001-07:002013-08-13T16:55:24.930-07:00Character spotlight: BonnieIt's extremely rare that I do a character spotlight before the release of that character's book. Particularly so in this case because, well, Bonnie hasn't had a very big role since <i>Super, </i>has she? Surely the more logical choice would be Naomi, as her book is the one I'm currently editing up for the betas. Bonnie's role in <i>Siren</i> will be extensive, however, and I find my thoughts returning more and more to her arc as I begin the outlines for <i>Bulletproof</i> and her as of yet unnamed novella. 'Ware spoilers, as I'm going to stay vague but don't have any bigger respect for my own spoilers as I do spoilers for other works.<br />
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One of the biggest problems I have as a writer is that, as I try to stay subtle, I overshoot and then have betas constantly telling me on first drafts that they aren't sure what's going on. I'm working on the balance. In the meantime, Bonnie is probably the most dynamic character of the series, making the biggest transition from damaged and nearly feral youth into a graceful young hero. That the majority of this has happened behind the scenes...Jesus, I hope I land this bird. So here we go:<br />
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<b>Bonnie, Ophelia, and Marcus</b>: Bonnie worships Ophelia and Marcus. Her blood family was cruel to her, her first experience with her own powers was Evelyn abusing her...she's got issues. But the slightest kindness shown to her from Ophelia and Marcus, and she snaps right around into a shining pupil. This is one of Bonnie's greatest strengths. She wears her damage, but her inherent goodness turns to gold when given the tiniest window. (This is my favorite vein to mine as a writer. I unabashedly love a hero. I love to watch someone rising up.) However, Marcus and Ophelia did <i>so much</i> for her on a material, spiritual, mental, and emotional level that she cannot ever feel equal enough to them to challenge them on the pedestals she has given them. She cannot grow until she recognizes her parents as flawed and still worthy of her regard based on their strengths (and maybe also their flaws).<br />
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<b>Bonnie and J:</b> And then we have Bonnie and J. I freely admit that this is among my favorite relationships of the series. J needs someone to pull her back (and I adore that the twenty year-old is the one who does that), while Bonnie needs someone with whom she can have fun as an <i>equal.</i> Marcus, Ophelia, and even Naomi (as the stepmother she doesn't particularly like) are her parental figures. J is her first genuine friend as an equal. After the events of <i>Super</i>, J is also in pretty dire need of a friend she can lean on, even if she does like to play the role of the superior, naughty aunt now and then. Besides, the dialogue between them is <i>fantastic</i>.<br />
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<b>Bonnie and romance:</b> Ophelia and Naomi are, of course, the major OTP of the series as an established couple long before the meat of <i>Super</i> begins. Each book since then has contained a little taste of romance--just a taste, as I am far more interested in developing the women themselves as individuals than in romance as far as this series goes. So does Bonnie get a beau? Well, her book is the last of the series before the Thrilling Finale, and she's got some heavy lifting to do to set things up. I'm going to play coy on this one.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7751912791577033415.post-76621088627360319312013-07-25T19:23:00.000-07:002013-07-25T19:23:03.257-07:00Ah, life.Today I was offered a job.<br />
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Alas, I was waiting on the corner for the light to change so I could cross the street. I politely told him that the retirement benefits are better at my day job, thank you.<br />
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I work in an interesting neighborhood.Mari Stroudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00298990854740807858noreply@blogger.com0