8FOLD: Victory #2

[Jeanne Morningstar]

8FOLD Comics Presents:
VICTORY #2 [8F-191]
"The Day After The World Changed!"
by Jeanne Morningstar

CHAPTER 1: MORNING IN THE HOUSE OF GOOD...

"So," said Elinor the next morning, "did you hear about the new superhero?"

Elinor was gorgeous as always, even when she was still waking up in the 
morning. She had this lovely, distinctive pastel goth style and had 
recently dyed her hair purple. She was tall and fat; there was a lot of 
her and it was all good. Kate felt like a shriveled goblin next to her. 
Her outfit, mostly black, showed off her ample breasts and the silver 
skull necklace she wore.

"The what?" Kate blinked. She was never fully a person before she'd had 
her first cup of coffee, which she usually had black because she needed 
the kick. Elinor by contrast was more of a tea drinker. She could go on 
at considerable length about different types of tea. She knew tea the 
way Kate knew level design and four-colors. "Sorry, haven't checked 
twitter yet."

"And here I was thinking you'd be all over that." Elinor giggled. 
"Look." She pulled out her phone and showed Kate some pictures that 
people were posting, reposting and arguing over--a blurry figure who 
seemed to fly through the sky. No one had really taken a clear picture 
of her.

"Wow." She said. "I--I don't know. That'd be great, if we really had 
superheroes again, but--" Oh right. She suddenly remembered. _That's me_.

"I don't know how to feel," she bullshitted. "It's... a lot. It means a 
lot to me. Remember when you were telling me how when Doctor Who came 
back you were excited but you were so invested in it that not sure how 
to feel, because it was so important to you since you were a kid and you 
were worried they'd mess it up? That's pretty much exactly me now, but 
more so."

Everyone knew four-colors were a central part of Kate's identity and who 
she was. That was a big part of how she'd realized she was trans. The 
female heroes were always her favorite. She had a lot of favorites, but 
they were the ones who she had always been viscerally fascinated by and 
identified with. In fact, she'd picked the name Kate precisely because 
it was weirdly common among four-colors. She was glad now that she 
hadn't gone with Julie as her middle name like she'd thought about. She 
would have died with embarrassment if she'd actually met Julie-Ann 
Justice. Which theoretically might happen now. Oh boy.

"I understand," said Elinor. "So, uh. I totally get it if you can't 
come, or want to leave soon, but... there's like a board game night 
tonight with a bunch of my friends. I was telling one of them about you 
and they really want to meet you." She smiled.

"What if I have to leave early?"

"Then I'll take you home. I understand."

"Yeah, but I don't want to be a drain on you..."

"You aren't. Really." She took Kate's hands in hers and squeezed. Kate 
sighed. Her hands were warm and her purple nail polish was, of course, 
perfect. Kate's own (blue, the same shade as her costume) was chipped 
and she was way overdue for repainting them, another of those tasks she 
was so good at putting off. "You've done so much to help me with my bad 
brain stuff and my family issues... I don't know where I'd be without you.

"Thanks, but..." Kate sighed. "I kind of had this project dumped on my 
lap last night and it's going to take a ton of time and effort to deal 
with so... I might be kind of a flake for a while, actually."

"No, I understand. Good luck." She hugged her goodbye. Being hugged by 
Elinor was such a nice feeling, and she wished it would go on forever.

Regret hit Kate the moment Elinor left the kitchen. Why hadn't she just 
told her she was a superhero? Elinor was someone she knew she could 
trust with anything. Then again, maybe she hadn't fully internalized it 
herself... Or maybe she'd just read too many superhero comics and was 
falling back on bad secret identity tropes because she didn't have a 
script for handling the situation herself.

Maybe doing some work would help get her mind off things. Lately she was 
working from  home, which was probably for the best. The problem was, 
while it was probably better for her disability, when she was inside too 
long, she felt like she barely existed. Should she try and get some work 
done? Maybe get back to her game project she was toying with and finally 
figure out how to wrestle Unity into submission? Then again, she had 
another option now...

"Ah, hello," said the teddy bear in a waistcoat lying on her bed. She 
blinked. That bear wasn't there yesterday. Then she remembered... "Oh, 
Hi, Cornelius." She took a deep breath. "OK, so. My roommate, who I'm 
hopelessly in love with, we talked about stuff but I couldn't tell her I 
was a hero now... Wait, why am I telling you this?"

"I honestly don't know," said Cornelius.

"Anyway, how should I tell her about that?"

He shrugged. It was odd seeing a stuffed toy shrug. "I wouldn't know. 
I'm only a bear. I can't offer you any help in the area of romance, but 
I can offer you some guidance as to using your powers. You're due for a 
training session soon."

"A training session?"

"Yes, in the Starlit Temple. Don't worry, time passes differently there."

"Why do I have to train? The original Mr. Victory didn't, did he? 
Everything I've ever heard says he just jumped in and started doing his 
thing."

"So, you didn't have any difficulty with your new powers?"

"Uh, well... OK, maybe you have a point."

"And as I'm sure you'll find, there's quite a lot that even you don't 
know about the original Mr. Victory.  Now, shall we get to work?"

CHAPTER 2: MORNING IN THE HOUSE OF EVIL!

On the outskirts of Golden City that night, a man walked up the driveway 
to his mansion. He was a stooped, hunched, unassuming, perpetually 
nervous man. The name he used was Thomas Charleston. He always wore the 
same plain black suit every day. He had worked for the last 30 years as 
a lobbyist from an oil company, during which he'd been both wildly 
successful and unnoticed by the public. He sometimes smiled but never 
laughed. Once, at his daughter's eleventh birthday party, he'd laughed. 
The room had fallen silent and the daughter had fled in tears. He'd 
carefully restrained his laughter ever since.

He was about to give a quick greeting to his daughter before a beep went 
off on his cell phone. It was not the normal ring. He racked his brains 
for what it could possibly mean, then went ahead and answered the call.

The voice on the other end was one that, to anyone who heard it, would 
sound oddly familiar but impossible to place. Paradoxically, the man who 
now called himself Thomas Charleston knew from this exactly who it was.

"Agent Blanc? What's this about?"

"You should know, if you've been watching the news," said Agent Blanc. 
"The seal is broken. You know what to do."

"Yes," said Charleston. A tremor crept into this voice--he almost 
laughed, but now was not quite the time. "I'll be ready in no time, 
Agent Blanc." Then the rumors were true--there was a four-color among 
them now, and it was someone who was connected to Mr. Victory. Just as 
he'd hoped. Just as he'd feared. He had known in his heart it was only a 
matter of time after all the cosmic ant-hills that had been kicked up 
lately, but would never have expected it to happen so soon.

He walked into his enormous library, pressed the location of the Bermuda 
Triangle on the globe--the site of one of his bases in the old days--and 
spun it quickly three times. One of the bookshelves creaked open, 
revealing the secret staircase left untraversed for thirty years. He 
walked down amid the flickering lights, brushing past the cobwebs and 
the dust. And there it was. His old laboratory, now shadowed and dark.

For the first time in many years, he stood up fully. He stretched out 
his bony fingers and moved his hands through the air like a conductor of 
an invisible orchestra. The lights flashed on and revealed all his old 
faithful death traps, the poison gas bombs, the killer robots, which had 
waited patiently for just such an occasion as this. And there on the 
wall were the pictures of all the times he'd faced Mr. Victory in 
battle. He'd never technically won, of course, but he'd come closer than 
anyone else. Which meant that this new hero should be no trouble at all.

He opened his mouth and laughed. The laugh trembled through his body and 
he felt himself vibrate with glee. Many and varied are the paths to 
becoming a villain, but perhaps his fate was sealed since the first day 
he laughed. His laugh sounded something like a rusted gate hinge, 
something like a horse, something like a howling wind. Some called it 
the most horrible sound in the world. It was perfectly suited to the 
role he had taken.

The seal had been broken. The wonders and horrors of the old world had 
now woken up again. Which meant that it was time for Dr. Theophilus 
Chorazin to live again.

****


Notes:

In the future, I'll be posting this series every other week, alternating 
with LNH: Retcon Year. Both will be in short, webcomic-y installments. 
Starting next issue there'll also be backup features, including a 
continuation of Science Blades of Terra Alter from the Medley, and other 
short-short stories about Golden City's heroes and history.

Re Kate's name, I had actually forgotten that there was another major 
8fold character of that name, Kate Morgan AKA the third Dr. Metronome, 
later Shimmer. As Drew pointed out, having names that recur in superhero 
universes isn't that uncommon; the Marvel Universe has a bunch of 
Stevens and Peters. I wound up making that a character point. Kate 
Aldrich wouldn't know about Kate Morgan, though, because she doesn't 
have a public identity.

"Cosmic ant-hills" this refers to the ongoing Pulse War arc. I'm being 
deliberately vague as to where this series is set with respect to that 
right now, but it's definitely after the events of The Red Hart and The 
Last Story (Mighty Medley #16).

-- 
Jeanne "The Dark Space Princess Knight" Morningstar