*************** Teething Ring 3
When I got home from school, just a little over an hour until Chris, Dennis and Katie came over I was amused to find Bruce and Mitch assembling the new sewing machine in the basement. Mom was drinking lemonade at the kitchen table and pointed down there with a sardonic grin.
"I asked the boys to setup a replacement for our older model that broke down. Table top model would just not hold up to our needs. Bruce brought along some spare used bobbins --he does all of their costumes and such you know-- and he is giving me a run down on the Serger they brought along." Mom smiled. "They are just about done assembling it, the cursing stopped."
"All done!" Bruce noted from below.
"And now you will get to see something special. A skill montage." Mom laughed a little, sounding younger.
Mitch blinked. "Would not have pegged you for an Otaku at heart." He held a hand out to me to pull me to the side as Mom placed herself to look over Bruce's shoulder as he quickly set the machine up and put it through paces on two kinds of materials.
"You might want to cough up that bale of material you have 'obtained'." Mitch noted. "It won't take them long to burn through the samples they sent over with the purchase."
I brought the bale out of my space and found a light dusting of ice crystals on it. "Huh. Seems things I store outside of the van lose heat and freeze."
He was looking at the ice oddly. "That isn't ice."
It was true, the material was like ice at first but unfolded to almost hairs then sublimated into a light smoke or wisp. Once that happened, the clothing that had seemed to be bound together peeled off easily, not even cold so much as very dry.
"Huh, I think I see Armsmaster's hand in this. The whole bale had some kind of dry cleaning solution on it, which formed a layer of fluffy ice crystals in your space. Low pressure effects."
Mitch was holding up a rectangle thing and … "Is that a tricorder?"
"Why, yes it is." He gave me a smug look.
I raise an eyebrow. "I know your girlfriend in the Troopers."
"Moving on." He quickly put it away and turned off the charm. I mean Bruce may rub off but I suspect he needs a few more applications. "Okay, I am seeing some red material here, denim, some brocades. There are lace bits to the one side. Are your guests expecting that your Mom here has made or remade some of your clothes?"
At my nod he continued.
"Then I suggest you whip up a partial dress … you do wear dresses at school sometimes?" Mitch paused.
I straightened up to my full height and looked down my nose at him. "I do prefer pants or leggings most times, but I intend to have a dress for this event."
"Okay then, maybe a blouse or vest and then a pair of school style pants. Make them up, but leave them unhemmed or lacking some details and put them over on the work table. Anne has a dress dummy prepped over there." He notes.
I felt Mom growing tired from the short work she is making of learning to run the Serger. I started to head over, but felt Mitch bar my way a moment.
"About another minute. We've done this before in front of a PRT test group last week. Without any danger she can absorb a concentrated skill set in around ten minutes, being ready to demonstrate it herself at a similar or better level in another fifteen." He pointed up to a little golden ball hovering over them. "The snitch there will blur their features without any detriment to the recording."
"Why would you guys need a Serger refresher?" I found myself asking.
He shrugged. "It isn't like either of us plan to die soon but buses happen, Endbringers exist and you never know how cancer will act. Basically, if there is a way for me to make a device that keeps him in goodies if I kick it, I will try to make it. This is his way of seeing to it I can stitch up my own costumes if he kicks it."
This close, I can feel his costume under his clothes. I connect to it and feel he is healthy enough. "You seem fine. Nary a pull on my power."
He blinked. "I am glad Jenny convinced me to start wearing boxers."
Meeting his eyes. "Me too."
Bruce broke that up as he hit a control to finish the recording. "Okay, Mrs. H. You are now qualified to teach the lock stitch and basic to intermediate sewing functions. Taylor, if you play this recording in full human mode, you should be able to play your part as well. There is a little section there we recorded for you earlier about planning out dress designs. Think of that as an early birthday gift."
"And the catch?" I note as he passed me a tablet with a memory stick already in place..
Bruce smiled. "Armsmaster told Leet about the goldweave cloth you made and my buddy here wants to see if he can use the unraveled threads in his devices. If you can make it about this wide and only reinforce the sections but not the ends, the threads as fine as you can do them…"
I sighed. "Bar of gold?"
"In the dresser drawer in your room. 10 ounces." He smiles. "So nice to do business with Heberts again."
I looked the question to Mom. She rolled her eyes but patted Bruce on the shoulders. "Danny has employed the boys before, although they weren't aware of my end of things back then."
Mitch snickered. "Would have been really helpful back then… but I can see why you kept mum."
"Owww. That pun was … gold." I groaned and hit play on the video.
I didn't hear their groans as the effect hit me STRONGLY as usual.
Next thing I remember is hearing Mom calling from the kitchen. "Taylor! Your friends are at the door!"
I looked around to see Uber and Leet had taken off. I pocketed the memory stick from the tablet and went upstairs to get the door.
"Hey Guys." I gestured the three inside. There was this vague thought that someone else at school might show up. And then there was Sophia and Emma to consider. "Grab a drink and come on down to the basement. Chris, you lucked out here. The new machine is set up already, the store we got it from had a promotional thing on home installation. It helps to tip as well."
Katie glanced around as she came in, being nice and all. I knew she lived downtown in one of the high rises around Medhall. Expensive living. "This is a very nice house you… omigosh is that a Serger? I thought you were talking a basic machine." She was gushing a little, looking over the manual that was sitting there.
"It's as new as it looks." I smile. "Dad made some good investments in land near the Docks, turns out he was the unwitting leaseholder of Uber and Leet's new fabrication startup. When they went legit with Military contracts he got a chunk of back rent."
"Oh I see." Katie hmmmd. "So, if this is new where is your old machine?"
"In the shop dear. I'd worn it down to the point of failure and beyond keeping Taylor in fitting clothes." Mom noted, bringing down a basket of laundry.
"I don't mean to pry but most of what I've seen you wearing has a tag." Katie simpered a little. "It's a hobby of mine to track the designer labels."
"No surprise there. Mom usually buys one or two for the pattern, then remakes the original with panels in place.
She kind of shrugs and pulls out a sketchpad. "Might as well see what we have that fits the materials. When you said there was a lot of odd mixed scraps I kind of went to town."
**************************
Sarah Pelham was looking over her PHO account when she got a PM she was not expecting.
The username Fina-Flor-2 got her attention. The content of the message was to call a long distance number she didn't recognize, but then she had a pretty good idea who it was.
"Hello?" The voice asked, without identification.
"Is this Fina-Flor Two?" Sarah tried, keeping her hopes down.
There was a pause. "Mom? You don't even know your own daughter?"
"JESSY!" Sarah squealed out, then shushed herself. "Neil! It's long distance!"
Neil Pelham walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair as she put it on speakerphone. He was used to the drill. Changing phones. Using pet names and never identifying who or where they were. "Hey there stranger. How is life treating you?"
"Well, funny thing about that. We, as in John and I, but mostly me --we're preggo!" She hooted out.
Cheer was quickly replaced with concern as the parents locked eyes. "Honey…" They both started, Neil bowing out.
"Didn't your Doctor warn you that your crystals could cause you to miscarry? That your chances of coming to term are reduced significantly?" Sarah tried.
"That won't be a problem, mom." Jess Conner tried.
"And there is the severe lack of decent care … down there. Have you been able to find a stable residence?" Sarah's voice was taking on a higher note.
Jessica Conner nee Pelham, once known as Fleur, but presently operating as Fina-Flor down in Brazil cleared her throat. "Mooooom. We have thought it out." She takes a breath. "My days as a headhunter are over now. We scored big and have sufficient to retire to a life of ease, or white picket fences."
Neil touched his wife's hand. "Where are you now?"
"Actually, we are just getting off a plane at Newark. Traveling... separately." Jess noted. "We are being met by reps here in New York. John is going to consider a..." pause, lower voice, "rebrand offer."
"Um, how secure is the number you are calling from?" Sarah asked.
"Pretty secure." Jess noted. "It's his new issue phone. Take down the number and don't be surprised if he looks different. Me too. We both got some plastic surgeries done."
Sarah blinked. "Are you angling to get your cousin to keep you off bedrest?"
"Maayybeee." Jess noted. "Haven't seen her in years you know."
Neil whispered something to Sarah.
"What was that, Dad?" Jess asked.
Sarah wagged a finger at him. "Your father was mentioning there is another cape in town, a healer named 'Blanket'."
Jess Pelham was laughing at her. "Of course they mentioned Blanket to me. It is one of the things that sealed the deal. Don't worry about our housing either, a rental house is all arranged. John will commute back and forth, he really is pretty much Legend light nowadays." The fact that she was belting off names now said she was in a private space. Road noise suggested a car. "He is still kind of annoyed he never figured out the shooting around corners thing, but the extra Brute power seems to work too."
"How is he going to handle the rebrand?" Neil asked.
"Tinker tricks. He saw this comic from Aleph and made himself something he called an 'Infinity Gauntlet'." Jess laughed. Groaning heard over the line suggested John Conner --no relation as he was always joking-- was with her. "Aw, now he's grousing that I ruined the surprise."
*******************
A knocking at the door brought Renee Dubois to see who it was. Little Taylor was down for a nap, so she opened the door quickly and quietly, hushing the young man dressed for the light rainy day weather.
He was dark skinned, one of those who could smile in the dark like a Cheshire cat. Almost like Malcolm … Uh oh.
"Yes, May I help you?"
He took a calming breath, a habit she recognized. "Ma'am, I have been tracking down anything I can find on a man. His stage name was Hess like the truck." He slides an old 8x10 glossy out of a folder, showing a boxer in his prime, a promotional picture. "Malcolm Hess was what he signed contracts as."
Her intake of breath gave away that she recognized it. "And what does this pertain to?"
He blushed a little. "Ma'am, I'm not trying to intrude on your life. He happened to have led a double life for a while and I just --well I wanted to meet the other side just in case."
She gave him a tight lipped look. "In case what?"
He huffed. "I understand he --you have a daughter. I wouldn't want to accidentally find myself dating a half sister." He made a face. "Other things you might know that he kept hidden, medical history."
She let out a breath. "Well, come on inside. It's too wet to be talking on the porch. Jes be quiet, the baby is down for a nap."
"A baby?" He paused to close the door. "If you don't mind my asking, another half relation?"
"Two more, if you are counting. And both too young for you original worry to be an issue." Renee spoke as she took a pitcher out of the fridge. "I am Renee Dubois --I went back to my maiden name."
"Brian Laborne ma'am. I'm told it was his original name when he emigrated here from Jamaica." He said.
"Oh that lying so and so. He never came from Jamaica. He learned to speak like it from me and put it into his boxing persona, the faker. He was from Atlanta, Georgia." Renee groused, pouring.
"Oh." He considered a moment. "That explains why there is so little evidence of the family name there, it isn't from there." He straddled a chair. "You seem very at ease, letting me in like this."
"Ha, I'm a very good judge of character boy… Excluding your father." she snorted. She set iced tea out for two.
Brian took a sip. "Sweet. Like he used to drink it." He looked up at her. "Did you know he passed?"
She sat down slowly. "No." Renee held out a hand. "Tell me what happened."
"Heart attack." His face grew a little angry. "They found him dead on the sidewalk. Thought he was shot during a gang fight and left there. He was right outside of his little boxing gym." He straightened up. "I think one of the Elite did it though. He was healthier than I am, tough old bird. If someone pushed him to sell he would have told them off."
Renee nodded a little. "Is that why you came here today?"
"Found a little information on you, this address, in a packet of info at his apartment. Hidden. Divorce papers. I'm told that part of his 'estate' is handled and the payments will continue. Dad left me controlling interest in the gym, but told me to offer the other half to you or your heir. If they don't take an interest, there is a lump payout." He noted.
"His apartment was above the gym, yes?" Renee asked.
Brian nodded. "I can't run it full time on my own. Nor are there that many 'members' to speak of. I have a job. It keeps me busy most nights."
"Are you a cape, boy?" She asked, forthrightly.
His eyebrows clawed towards his hair. "W-why do you ask?"
She smiled a little now. "When you got mad, you leaked a little smoke or something around the edges. Might need to work on that…" She looked past him and waved someone over from behind him. "Seems to run in the family."
Brian looked around and saw a pigtailed little girl at the banister of the stairs. She was watching him through the stringers near the bottom. After another wave, she came down three steps, walking closer. Something else became clear as she came closer. She was wearing a cape, or a blanket of cloth.
And it was trailing smoke like he made.
"This is Suze. Suze, this is Brian, your half-brother." Renee added.
Suze frowned a moment, looking around. "Where is the other half?" Then she grinned, showing it was just a joke.
Brian leaned forward to shake hands and was engulfed in a hug.
"She's a hugger, that one." Renee noted fondly.
"Yeaagh ..And strong too." He added.
Suze stood back and smiled. "Always wanted a big brother. Fee-a can be mean."
A key in the door foretold it opening. "I hear someone asking for it." Sophia came in with a bag in hand. "Who the hell are you?!"
Standing, noting Suze moved from in between the girl and himself. "My name is Brian Laborn, your half-brother I suppose."
Sophia Hess sized him up. Too close relation. Sad that. "So how is dear old dad?" She asked.
The two adults looked away a moment.
Suze spoke up in the way only a six year old could. "He dead."
One hand up to her chest in dramatic pose. "Oh no. All my dreams of being a princess shattered. What ever will I do?" She half turned and dropped her bag on the couch in passing.
"Ooof."
Did that couch go 'oof'?
"Did that couch just say something?" Sophia looked into the kitchen and back. There was an indention in the cushion, and her bag of school books was closer to the end than she had targeted.
Brian let his head droop. "Aisha!"
"Gesundheit. Now WHO is on our couch!" Sophia griped.
Suddenly a younger black girl was there. Black leather jacket sans sleeves. Bit of a fro on either side, pushed up demonic party mask. If Sophia was two years younger, a foot shorter and well two sizes BIGGER in the chest she might be mistaken for this girl.
"Aisha is my NAME skinny butt. Aisha Laborn. Since your mom isn't freaking out at him saying so, no sense in not giving you my cape name either, Imp." She gives the 'this guy' double thumb thing. Her mask flips down and everyone but Suze blinks.
"Was there someone there?" Sophia said.
Suze giggles to herself. Pointing to the couch.
Brian groaned. "Aisha?"
Appearing on the couch, Aisha grins at Suze as she lifts the mask. "This shit never gets old!" She tilts her head though at Suze. "Are you a cape too?"
Suze nods and poses. "I am Patches!"
Pointing to herself. "Sophia." Around the room. "Suze, Brian, Aisha, Renee." Point up. "Taylor, Nana." She walked past them into the kitchen. "Getting some tea while you decide what I need to be caught up on."
************************
On the porch swing next door, I was sitting there swinging. Emma was chilling on the rail, not quite willing to sit with me yet. Too soon.
"It sounds pretty lively in there." She noted.
I laughed a little. "I don't think they have a 'low' setting. You ought to hear them discuss her grades."
Emma looked at me with surprise, "But Sophia gets decent grades!"
I look up from my book. "Decent? If you say so. But she can't qualify for a sports scholarship."
"Why would she?" Emma nodded. "The Protectorate pays pretty well after all."
My book snapped shut. "There are roles within the Protectorate that get BETTER pay, and those require a college education." I tap the book. "Lawyers. Doctors. Engineers."
"And how will being an Engineer change the way you do things?" She looked at me now, interest piqued.
"Structures. Materials. Just knowing what woven things don't burn against Lung. What theoretical things can be made if woven in zero gravity, in applied higher gravity?"
She blinked. "Zero gravity? Did you come up with another Power?"
"Blanket Space as Armsmaster is calling it." I note, adding as she continues to look perplexed, "There is no gravity there unless I make it. If I make weave in there, there are changes in the makeup that can be predicted. Now, spin up a heavy mass and weave the material outward from it, creating higher gravity."
"So what would that do?" She asked, genuinely interested.
I tapped the book again, drawing a finger across the title, 'Material Science'. "Well, that is what experimentation is all about." I take out a favorite item, something Armsmaster had provided as an example of ordinary tech. "A Prince Rupert's Drop. Glass so hard it can break bones on one end, tail so weak a twist of a finger will shatter it to powder."
"Got another? Looks like an earring to me." Emma gives me a bit of stuck out tongue as she models it to one ear.
"Wow." I note. "Just wow."
**************************
Sabah was in line for the food truck she'd heard about on the grapevine. They were one of the few authentic Hispanic sources in the Bay. Their wraps were amazing, though she could never quite remember what they were called.
Another patron in line brushed close, a young woman like herself stepping wide of a grungy hipster carrying his tray away from the counter.
"You haven't looked at the menu. So what's good here?" Her voice was breathy, close. Her perfume was nice too.
Sabah turned to find the woman close, bending down to hear better. "I usually get whatever the last person gets. Hasn't failed me yet." She smiled. "Sabah."
"Lilly." Looking past her to the counter. "Two of whatever those guys ordered, my treat." She grinned. "But you need to get a place for us to eat."
Smiling coquettishly back. "That is easy enough. I … ah work at a store nearby. My apartment is right on top of it. We can eat on the balcony and watch the people on the Boardwalk." Her grin grew wider as Lilly paid for their order with a credit card. "And since you appear to be old enough to imbibe, I can break out a bottle of wine."
"I knew I would have a blast in the Bay. New York is just so stuffy and set in their ways." Lilly noted with interest as their order was put together.
Together they carried their spoils back to the newly rebuilt Dollhouse.
"Say, I've heard about this place." Lilly noted as Sabah unlocked the gate to the newly added stairs to the balcony. "Parian owns this place, right?"
Sabah gestured her up, then closed the gate with a click. "That's right. The balcony acts as a stage for her shows, or at least it will when she reopens next week. In the meantime there is a set of chairs and a table here for lunches or nice dinners. We only need to roll it over to the edge for a better view."
"Orrrrr we can leave it here for some privacy while we eat." Lilly winks. "And you did mention wine did you not?"
"Be … right back." Sabah noted. She wasn't sure what this was, but she liked it.
***************************
Jess Conner was looking through a few pictures of the place they were renting. It was a fairly safe neighborhood, a haven for blue collar workers and PRT Troopers. There was supposed to be a few capes living on the same street, though not everyone knew that.
It wasn't really far from the nicer parts of town where New Wave lived. It was a little closer to the coast without being in the Marina area. Near the Docks.
It might be a little tricky to deal with the crystals imbedded in her skin if she had to do much traveling. But over the years a few surprising interactions had occurred. Not to kiss and tell, but certain ah … activities used up the energy in them. They didn't really come back in force unless she got hurt badly, or really, really angry.
Staying a few extra minutes drive from Aunt Carol was part of not being angry all the time.
***************************
"So, this is your half baby sister, Taylor." Sophia said. She had a bottle ready, tucked under an arm as she gave over the yawning form to him. "I see you've done this before with Aisha. Good." She passed him the bottle, then a burping towel.
"Not that I mind, but why are you passing her over to me?" Brian asked, settling the bottle, checking the temperature again just in case.
"I have to get some dinner in and study time sometime. You need to re-familiarize yourself with an important family obligation." She snickered.
Brian had a sinking feeling as she nudged a bag closer to him.
"Changing diapers."
Some might interpret that as you saying brain damage made Amy gay... which would likely be a very unpopular sentiment. 
