Aphrodite scowled at Brock's piercing of her not very subtle alias, but it didn't last long.

"So what do you think?" she asked, twirling with a slight smile. "How do I look?"

"Uhhh, good, I guess?" Brock answered, flushing slightly. He knew it was the result of a skill, but just like her old body, Aphrodite's new body was sending signals to parts of his body he'd rather remained quiet. "You look... good."

"Of course I do," she scoffed. "That wasn't why I was asking. I know I look good."

"...uhhh, why were you asking then?"

"Because I wanted to know if I left anything in that reminded you of Rin." She flicked her hair at Mikael, who seemed to have calmed down slightly from the icy rage of earlier, at least outwardly. "Since I'm pretty sure your minder doesn't want you two showing up for drinks with the 'Sekkie Speaker.'" She made a moue of distaste at the words, and Brock could hear her own anger underlying them.

"Oh," he responded awkwardly, "I guess that makes sense." He thought back to one of his first encounters with the residents of the city. "Uhhh, but can't they just check your 'biosig' thing? That's a thing, right?"

Aphrodite shrugged.

"They can if I give them reason to, but why would I do that? The old man just gave me access to my powers again, and I'm not real keen on losing even a scrap of freedom I'm allowed." She gave him a long look. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Brock's mind filled with memories of moving like the world itself was designed for his personal comfort, his body filled with the bedrock assurance that where it was was exactly where he wanted it to be. A life so unlike the one he was living before.

"...yeah."

Mikael cleared his throat, pushing his way between them.

"You two can talk Sekkie shit on your own time. Let's go."

"You could do with some personality changes of your own," Aphrodite grumbled as they followed him out of the alley, "I know you have the skills for it." Brock stifled a laugh. He was pretty sure Mikael was still seething over the events of the past few hours, which, to be fair, hadn't gone the way Brock was expecting either.

I was supposed to go straight to bed and dream about murdering Bindy in creative ways. Now I'm going out for drinks with two people who I'm pretty sure love-hate each other. I had bleach tea with a pixie. I think a bomb exploded in my brain earlier.

His thoughts fizzed and whirled like he was already four beers in, and Brock tried to wonder if it was exhaustion or another case of reality displacement, but then decided he didn't really care.

"What's it feel like?" he found himself asking Aphrodite as the trio navigated the jostling evening streets on their way to the Unsavory Unicorn. "When you change? Why do you do it?"

She gave him an odd look.

"It's... have you ever felt like your body doesn't fit? That you're supposed to be someone else?"

"Uhhh, kinda. I wanted to be good at sports, but no matter how hard I tried, nothing ever worked right."

"That's... well, I guess it's kind of close, but not really." Her voice grew distant as they rounded a building corner and Brock saw the familiar flaring jet of the Unsavory Unicorn's sign a couple blocks down. "For me it's everything. The outside doesn't match the inside, and I need it to match." She fixed his eyes with her own. "It hurts when it doesn't match."

"Wow. That, uhhh, that sounds like it sucks."

"It does." She gestured towards Mikael, plowing a straight-line path through the crowds in front of them directly towards the building entrance. "He told you how harem-class users usually have body-altering powers, right?"

"Yeah, that was in yesterday's training module." Brock grimaced. "I hate those training modules."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Everyone hates training modules, but that's not why I brought it up." Aphrodite steered him past a crowd gathered around a man-sized otter running a three card monte game on top of a cardboard box with what looked like a small land-mine tucked beneath some metallic sea urchins. "Most of them use that for power and control. Turn themselves into someone that's impossible to resist, and Mikael, that asshole, he's right that those idiots need to be locked up until they figure out why it's wrong. If they ever do," she added with a sigh.

"But you...?" Brock prompted, trying not to stare at a group of citizens in the street busy dismembering a feebly protesting Goondam spraying oil everywhere, half its parts already falling free on their own. Floating salvage trucks and a cleanup crew were already hovering overhead, yellow warning lights slowly strobing.

"Yeah," Aphrodite sighed again, "for me, and a few others, I think we got those powers because whatever fucked up system runs this place decided we needed them, or wanted them so badly that it's integral to who we are."

Brock thought of the gray place. The disembodied voice amidst the echoes of sadness.

'What do you want?' That's what it kept asking me.

"Uhhh, okay? So we get what we want most when we end up here, sure. I can believe that." Brock paused as the thundering steps of a three story feathered dinosaur striding down the vehicle lane momentarily drowned out even the noise of the crowds. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"So you understand what it is I'm fighting for, stupid," Aphrodite shot back. "What you should be fighting for, too. The ability to live free, be who we are without the risk of some frightened asshole like Hardick hurting or killing us simply because he doesn't want to understand."

"Yeah, but," Brock interjected, passing beneath the flaming jet of the Unsavory Unicorn's sign, "what about the fact these aren't our bodies?" He gestured vaguely at himself, eyes catching on the broad hands that were quickly coming to feel like his own. "Weren't ours to begin with?"

"Yeah," Aphrodite breathed out, pushing open the swinging doors and nodding at the bouncer, this time clad in a bright pink feather boa and skintight white leather pants that left nothing to the imagination, "that's a bit of a problem." She paused in the entrance, half in and out, then leaned over to Brock's ear, her voice firming. "And they shouldn't be forgotten, but we're the ones living now. As long as we're not hurting anyone, we deserve a chance to live."

They both fell silent as they stepped inside and joined Mikael, who was looking back impatiently. "This way," he growled, marching in between the high-walled booths that shrouded any glimpse of their occupants. "Don't do anything stupid."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes at his back, causing Brock to tamp down another urge to laugh.

She really is comfortable with him, even though he's the one with all the power. I wonder how she does it?

Three booths down and one booth over Mikael found his target and slid the booth door open.

"You decrepit bag of bones," a familiar boisterous voice thundered, "you look even more like shit than normal!"

"Hey, Ken," Brock waved shyly as Mikael simply grunted and slid into the booth. Ken's eyes lit up.

"And you brought the kid again! Good to see you, kid!" Aphrodite followed Brock into the booth and Ken let out a low whistle. "And the kid brought company!"

Brock flushed as Mikael reached wordlessly for the brimming pitcher filled with golden liquid on the center of the table. Aphrodite smiled gracefully at the giant man across from her and extended her hand.

"Venus. And you are?"

"Ken. How'd you get to meet these two?"

Before anyone could answer, Bindy zoomed out of Brock's jacket and started hipthrusting above the pitcher Mikael had just set back down, its contents significantly lowered.

"Brock! Remember! Sexwork is work! Don't be a prude!"

Brock's flush turned into beet-red embarrassment as he frantically tried to swat the obnoxious magiphone out of the air. Mikael finished downing his drink in one long swallow, then grabbed the pitcher for a refill, deftly avoiding both Brock's hands and Bindy's antics.

"They met at the Love Shack," the tired swordsman told Ken, who was sitting back with an amused smile on his face. "We're asking her to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't lose his mind."

"I- that's not- I'm- goddammit, Bindy, get-"

The rest of the table ignored Brock's attempts to corral his wayward device, Ken regarding Aphrodite thoughtfully as she poured a glass of beer for herself.

"She does look like one of Softheart's crew, now that you mention it."

Aphrodite took a swig, then examined Ken curiously.

"Have you frequented the Councilor's establishment before? I'm sure we would've remembered someone as notably... large, as yourself."

Ken waved the question away with a good-natured smile.

"Ehh, you know how it is, word gets around. We're all incorrigible gossips at the office." He winked at her. "I spend all my free time keeping this temple," two thumbs pointed at his chest, "perfect. I haven't had a chance to patronize Ms. Softheart's clientele myself." He turned to Brock. "You're a lucky dog, you know that?"

"I- it's not- you're getting-"

"Brock!" Bindy chose that moment to start circling Brock's head in a dizzying orbit, gyrating even more vigorously. "Make sure you eat! Keep your strength up! For later!"

"Haha!" Ken roared, pounding the table with his fist and sending beer sloshing in the mugs and nearly-empty pitcher. Brock tried to sink into non-existence. "The kid's right - let's get some food and drinks in us. Then you," he pointed at Mikael, who had finished his second glass and was starting in on his third, "can tell me why you're drinking like you saw someone fucking a sheep in the middle of the street."

Brock, face burning hotter than magma, mustered all the dignity he could and reached out to pour the remaining beer for himself, trying to ignore Aphrodite's giggling laughter and Mikael's sudden guffaw.

I need a drink.