Bianca looked happy, but Rocko was pissed.
Somehow, my new outfit had even more frills on the skirts than the previous one. The blue had almost disappeared, replaced by a pastel purple, and in contrast to Magical Girl Stella-Lunar’s Star Form battle dress, it seemed even less armored than my old outfit. Not that armor mattered; I had superhero damage to mitigate injuries.
The two big changes, however, were the tiara and the golden filigree. The first sat just below the hard-light dummy’s hairline, pushing it up and out of its face. It featured a tall crest in the center, prominently displaying the comedy and tragedy masks and a row of stars descending on each side. I wasn’t sure why Magical Girls all needed stars on everything, but I wasn’t complaining. The dress’s bodice was off-white now, with golden patterning around my chest and down the tights. I’d chosen to replace the thigh-highs with proper hose, and apparently, that came with gold. So did the domino mask.
I’d made a few other minor changes to the dress. The poofy shoulders had to go. Rocko had replaced them with scarlet off-the-shoulder mini-sleeves, which, shockingly, looked terrific. And I’d replaced the sapphire and bow with a purple amethyst, which sat in the gold filigree’s center.
“Dammit, DuPont. I said like Stella-Lunar, not…whatever this is,” Rocko complained.
“Actually, this is late little league Stella, with a touch of Scarlet Star,” Pataki corrected. “The ballerina-esque skirts give it some class and a lot of leg, which looks older, and the gold—and your red—offer some maturity as well. It’s still a little league Magical Girl outfit, but it’s modeled on what successful would-be minor league girls have worn in the past. And it doesn’t have a cape. I approve.”
Well, if it was good enough for Pataki, it was good enough for me. I nodded. “How quickly can you have this in the System?”
“An hour or two. You won’t be able to transform at all while I work. And give me that collar. I’ve got an idea,” Pataki rasped.
I handed the collar over, and Pataki started fiddling on their keyboard. Then they glared at Rocko. “Get out. I don’t want an audience for this one.”
“Fine. But Pataki, the ratings better be through the roof, or it’ll be outta your paycheck!” Rocko stood up. “DuPont, Marino, waiting room. We’ll work through the oath.
I followed. I knew something Rocko either hadn’t caught on to or, for once, was too tactful to mention. The new dress showed some actual cleavage above the new amethyst gemstone. Not much; in fact, it was downright modest compared to half my casual outfits. But against the old dress, and in the role of heroine, it felt almost scandalous. I’d made sure to add it, which was one reason Bianca was probably thrilled.
Ratings were going up.
Rocko drummed their fingers against a chair. “Oath. That oath ain’t gonna cut it. It’s been good for Small Town Super and early Heroics 101 pilots, but we’re launching a proper Season One now. Ditch the family, ditch some of the love, ditch the named villain—you don’t have a rival anymore—and please, please, don’t say ‘Don’t fear. Magical Girl Understudy is here!’”
Bianca snorted. I whirled in my plastic seat. “Oh, please. You call yourself the Marsupial of Justice.”
“That’s clicking with older audiences better than your oath.”
“Shit.” I took a deep breath. “How about ‘The spotlight shines on darkness and villainy?’ That feels more in line with what my powers do now, and it’s more—“
“It’s better and ‘love’ and ‘truth’ and ‘peace,’ but we can do better.” Rocko pulled a paper and started scribbling. “Okay, you gotta hit three ideals. You gotta have a catchphrase. You gotta name the community you’re part of, but we’ll let it flex this time. And then you need the post-sequence stinger.”
“’I swear to upstage villains and put justice in the spotlight across Tokyexico?’ That’s better, right?”
“That’s too short,” Bianca said. “This shit’s your big spotlight moment, no pun intended. You’ve gotta go big. How about ‘I swear to upstage villains and put justice in the limelight, from opening night to curtain call. To stand against evil, greed, and villainy. And to stay true to love and hope?’”
“That’ll work. We can refine it after Season One, but it’s functional. And the post-sequence vow? That can be more of a catchphrase. Yeah, a catchphrase would be best.”
“’I’ll always be your star, Tokyexico!’”
Rocko put their face in three hands, holding their cigar carefully away so they didn’t knock it to the ground. “Seriously? I give you creative freedom, and that’s the line you come up with? It’s not on-theme, it’s not clever, and it’s not minor-league. Back to the drawing board.”
Then they got an evil-looking grin. “Even better. Marino! What’s your catchphrase?”
“Have no fear, Justice-Roo is here.”
Rocko shook their head. “That’s stupid, but it’s better than ‘I’ll always be your star.’ It’s on-brand for you, and it evokes pre-Launch Day superheroes. You want that catchphrase to be snappy. Something people will remember. Justice-Roo is memorable. Goofy and little league as all get out, but memorable. Try again.”
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“’ Villains, exit stage left?’ ‘The curtains close on evil?’ ‘Shining a light on crime?’” I had no idea what to do.
But, shockingly, Rocko nodded. “The first one’s not bad. You might even earn a Badass point or two if you say it right. So, run me through the whole thing from the top. Action!”
“I swear to upstage the villains and put justice in the limelight from opening night until curtain call. To stand against evil, greed, and cruelty. And to stay true to love and hope.” I did a little spin and jazz-hands’d; in The Backstage, the System was off, and Pataki’d said I couldn’t transform even if I wanted to. “Villains, time to exit stage left!”
“That works,” Rocko said. They puffed a cloud of clove-scented smoke. “Time to work on yours, Marino!”
----------------------------------------
Bee and I slipped through the Backstage door and into my green room. “Show me, show me, show me,” she said, bouncing up and down excitedly.
I held the collar in my hand. “Fine, but get out, just in case the sequence is incredibly embarrassing.”
“What, worse than Squirt’s?”
“Shut up!” I held the maintenance door to my apartment open and stared until she walked out. Then I stared at the collar in my hand for a full minute. Pataki had said it was a surprise, and the Ilneat costume designer refused to elaborate, which meant the new Costume was either incredibly dumb or ridiculously cool. I ran through my new oath, the same old transformation to Understudy, and my new catchphrase. Then I fastened the collar around my neck and held Tails high.
“Transform meow!”
The plushie cat hovered in front of me. She lifted a paw at the same time I raised my hand. I spun and so did she, mirroring my movements. Then, as I bowed at her, she leaped out of the air and onto my head. I flinched from the sudden pounce and reached up to steady her. But I couldn’t feel her.
I could feel two ears, though.
And two tails.
“Oh my god!” I screamed, locking the maintenance door.
----------------------------------------
“It’s been fifteen minutes, Annie! I know you’re done changing!” Bianca knocked on the door, thumping on it over and over.
A small part of me noted how mundane that sentence sounded out of context. A normal relationship was probably full of moments like that; one partner hogging the bathroom while the other banged desperately on the door, or a locked bedroom door keeping someone from their nap.
Most normal relationships weren’t powered, though. And of the ones that were, one partner usually didn’t turn into a catgirl.
Which was precisely what Pataki’s costume design had done to me.
I had two cat ears, white plushie fur across my face, and whiskers. The dress, similar in design to my old Understudy outfit, pressed even more plush down. And, worst of all, were the tails—two of them, just like my familiar. I’d taken one look and screamed again. Thank god the door was locked. I’d never hear the end of this as it was, but at least I had time to think about how I’d explain this to Bee.
“Stop talking about food, Tails. I’m going to be sick.”
The domino mask formed a black pattern around my eyes. I couldn’t see why. No one was ever going to recognize me like this.
“Come on, I wanna see!” Bianca said from behind the door. She sounded frustrated, but I couldn’t explain this. No. Way.
“J-just a minute!” I shouted. I pulled up the catgirl Costume’s powers. Then I groaned. “Bianca, I’m going to kill you! These power names are so stupid!”
“I know, right? Open the door and let me see!”
“Gimme a minute!”
“You’ve had like twenty!”
[Leaping Leopards] was a gap closer. It was a pounce. A full-on pounce. It had a cooldown but no restriction on the uses per act. I could use it to leap to prey—er, villains—from far away. Simple, practical, and, frankly, kind of uninteresting. But it was a functional Badass power, and since Fursona was Badass/Grit, I needed to try it out. Her version must’ve been whatever she’d used to hop onto the van during ‘You’re Super-Suited for This Job’ during the job fair.
[Cat Scratch Fever] seemed much more interesting. A combination of damage over time and a double-vision debuff, I could only use it once per Act. It paired well with [Leaping Leopards], though. Really well. Against a more powerful villain like Theseus, I could use [Hometown Heroine], leap into melee with [Leaping Leopards], and [Cat Scratch Fever] before running away. I wasn’t sure which of Fursona’s powers this copied. I looked at my paws and extended the half-inch claws.
Yeah. I had paws, too.
The last power was the reason I told Bianca the power names were stupid. [Fursonal Furcefield] gave me a 20% chance to ignore damage as long as I wore my fursuit. There was just one problem.
“Tails, I don’t have a fursuit.”
“Oh my god you got that power this is amazing!” Bianca said from the door. I was glad we had the thirteenth floor to ourselves since her voice echoed around my apartment. She’d have blown at least one of our covers otherwise.
All told, my new Costume looked pretty solid—but also totally embarrassing.
[Costume - Copy Cat]
[HP 7/7]
[Styles and Skills]
►Archetype Skill - Transformation Sequence
►Badass
► Leaping Leopards 0
►Cunning
►Drama
► Cat Scratch Fever 0
► Hometown Heroine 1
►Flamboyance
►Signature Skill - Adaptive Armoire 1
►Stored Costumes: (Understudy)
►Spotlight Strike 1
►Grit
► Fursonal Furcefield 0
Bianca banged on the door. I gulped, walked over, put my hand on the door, and hesitated. “Don’t laugh when you see it, okay?”
“I wear a fursuit for my powers. I’m not gonna laugh.”
“Okay. I’m holding you to that.” I opened the door and cracked it open.
Bianca smiled, but to her credit, she didn’t laugh. I explained the powers I’d gotten and the body merge with Tails as best I could, which was hard when Tails couldn’t explain it either. It took a few minutes on the couch to finish the explanation.
When it was over, Bianca leaned in for a quick kiss, but she pulled back with a grossed-out expression. “Eugh! Whisker!”
“Sorry, but that’s kinda your fault.” I flopped onto the couch, and she ran her hand through my plushie fur. It felt good. Really good.
Then she stopped. “Annie, you’re purring. That’s really weird. And…kinda fun?”
I stood up, blushing. “We’ll explore this newfound interest of yours later. I’m changing back and getting ready for Christmas Dinner.”