Life really should have been great. I had an unlimited credit card, a car with a fantastic stereo system, a friend to share these with and, if I do admit it, a pretty good body. It was the body that was my problem. I had The Flu. Please take careful note of the capital letters, because that was the way that I thought of it. It was The Flu that was trying to kill me. I felt miserable, and Christine was not making it any better by being her normal nice self. It's no fun being ill and crabby if people are just plain nice and sympathetic back. I wanted an argument.
I should have known better than to hope for nastiness from Christine. As I sat in the car, in what felt like my death throes, although I doubted that I was that lucky, I thought about how I had met her.
It was in Detroit, and I was just sight seeing, when I heard the most beautiful sounds I had ever heard. Looking around, I found the source. It was this ragged teenager with an old fashioned cloth cap pulled right over her face. She was playing the most angelic guitar that, I think, anyone would ever hear. I stood there for about an hour lost in the music, just watching this busker play. Then business hours finished, and a crowd of suits walked past, pushing me away from my prime position and halfway down the street. By the time I returned, the busker had gone.
Much later that night I woke up, convinced that someone was calling me. I got up and wandered down into the hotel lobby, and there she was. The busker was standing there looking at me.
*Can I join you?* Came this voice into my head. Luckily for her, I was getting quite blasé about odd things happening, so I just grabbed her hand and dragged her into a very secluded corner of the lobby. Not that it was hard - most places are secluded at three in the morning.
"What are you doing in my head?"
"I’m sorry, it’s just I would like to come with you."
"But I don’t even know where I'm going."
"Yes you do, you're going to meet up with the Oracle."
"But you don’t know anything about me."
"I do." She looked enigmatic and I conceded that point.
"But I don’t know who you are."
"My name is Christine."
The conversation didn’t last much longer than that. I must have been half asleep at the time, because I agreed to let her come with me. Just a reminder to all of those kids out there, do not trust strangers - I was just lucky that she turned out to be the world champion nice person. Not only that, but as I found out the next day, after a series of shopping appointments and seeing the hairdresser, she is also one of the most beautiful. Tall, legs up to her armpits, straight blond hair down to her waist, innately graceful, she puts me in the shade every time. We set off two days after I had met her, aiming to see as much of the US as possible before fate roped us in for something exciting.
Huddled shivering in the car, contemplating this and waiting for Chris to finish paying for the gas, I nearly felt happy. Which probably explains what happened next.
Chris finished paying and turned back to the car. It was accelerating towards a river that was about 100 meters down the hill. I hadn’t noticed, because I was too busy looking for a tissue in the glove box and thinking about my good fortune. Chris sent a mental yell, but by then the car was going very fast, and naturally my door was jammed closed. Frantically, Chris ran along behind as the car went down the final hill, rolled into the ice cold waters of the river, and came to a rest, in water just lower than the roof. So there I was, able to breathe, but unable to get out. This lasted only a few minutes before I pulled myself out of the window. By then I was soaking and The Flu had taken its chance. I felt as if I were dead already and waiting to be buried.
The owner of the petrol station informed us, in tones of a wise man, that our brakes were gone, and it would take at least a week to get the parts and put them in. Since we had no choice we decided to stay that night in a hotel. Chris decided to cheer me up, so she took me down to a nearby bar. It wouldn't have been my first choice, but I had changed into warm and dry clothes and figured that if I was going to die of The Flu I may as well do it in public, and went.
The pair of us were an amusing contrast. There was Christine, with her elegant blond hair waterfalling down her pale blue blouse and tailored trousers, drinking a lemon, lime and bitters. Beside her I had a pair of dark blue track pants, and sneakers with thick woollen socks pulled up. The thick grey woollen jumper and the black jacket were to keep me warm, and to top the ensemble a pair of sunglasses to hide my puffy red eyes and a beanie pulled as low as it could go to keep my hair out of the way. I looked like a vagrant, scratchily whispering to the barman instructions on how to make a hot rum toddy.
A woman came up to Chris and gave a friendly smile.
"We saw you sitting over here looking a bit lonely. Would you like to join my friends and I?" She asked.
"Oh, I’d love to, but I’d have to bring my friend along." Chris gestured at me. The woman looked a bit disconcerted.
"Uh, yeah, sure. My name’s Ellis by the way." She said, and lead the way back to her table. I shuffled along behind them.
There were two other people at the table. There was a boy, obviously underage, enjoying a coke, and an old looking Asian man. They gave Chris the oddest looks as she sat down. They had a spare seat up one end, and managed to find room for me to sit on the edge of the bench next to the kid, who introduced himself as Blake. I’m not sure what they were talking about, I was too busy concentrating on preventing my head from exploding to pay much attention, but they talked for a while.
I only realised this when one of them suggested that we go to their place for coffee. Actually they asked Chris if she’d like to go, and she said that she couldn’t leave me alone, so they grudgingly asked me. I really didn’t want to go, but I saw that Chris did. I may have been a crabby bitch at the time, but after all that Chris had done for me, I figured going with her and dying over coffee at the house of some complete strangers would be the least that I could do for her.
When I tried to get up I noticed that not only had I been sitting from a long time, but it appeared that I had gone through a few of those rum toddies. Where is that Healing Factor when you need it, I thought as I staggered upright. I got the impression that my sparkling wit had not made a great impression, probably from the subtle way that they tried to leave me behind.
"I reckon it’d be better for you to leave her here. She looks real sick." The kid said. I agreed with him. Christine was adamant though, and underneath her niceness is a will of pure adamantium, so eventually we all gave in. I was dragged along behind them as Chris chatted to Ellis. In the end the dragging was nearly literal because about halfway to their place my muscles stopped working, Blake almost carried me through the door. We were a bit behind the others as the rum toddies had worked very well to undermine the strength in my knees.
There was a bit of flickering of the surrounds and a sudden drop in temperature that I blamed on my absolutely sozzled senses, (I was wrong, of course), and then there we were outside this house.
As we approached I heard what sounded like a familiar voice. It sounded peeved. I felt a sudden rush of warm feeling, I somehow subconsciously realised that here was someone I could be peeved at. My stride might have been firmer, but it was a bit hard to tell because I was leaning on Blake so hard. We walked in the door, to see Chris being interrogated. I couldn’t help myself.
"Dis is all your fauld, Soz, dobody in their right bind would-"
Most of the rest of this discussion is history, particularly my surprise at her amazing lack of clothing, but it didn’t last long.
We were going to have a longer discussion, but my rather wonky legs had other, more horizontal, things on their mind. Get your mind out of the gutter, I was sick, remember? After a little bit of urging from Ellis and Christine, we decided to put off the serious reunion until the morning. I think that Christine went off to get our stuff, but I was distracted right then because Delphi had told Sabretooth to carry me to my room. I really wasn't sure about this guy, and I would have argued but I really wasn’t feeling up to it, which may have been the whole purpose of The Flu in the first place.
By the next morning my bit of Healing Factor had kicked in, and I was feeling fine. We sat down to breakfast and had the discussion that we hadn’t had the night before. I told the story about how I’d arrived and Christine filled in the bit about us meeting. While we were talking we each ate our own idea of Breakfast. Mostly this consisted of toast or some revolting, yet strangely moreish, sugar cereal that I shared with Blake and Delphi.
Then Sabretooth came in, ignoring the rest of us, and picked a huge chunk of bloody red meat out of the fridge. He stuck in the grill and then about 2 seconds later pulled it out again. He grabbed some toast and started eating, without the aid of cutlery. I know that I shouldn’t have. Most people in the world would have told me not too. Unfortunately I seemed to have lost all my restraint, and tact, since changing my universe.
"That is disgusting!! There's still blood in that, do you know how unhygienic that is?" I grimaced at Sabretooth. He grinned at me, showing the bits of gristle between his teeth.
A great tradition was born that morning. Since that day, breakfast has been one of the most interesting times of day in the Oracle’s household. It only got more interesting when I got so mad that I forgot to keep a careful watch on the fluctuations of chance and probability around us, and the toaster exploded, littering the room with shrapnel, crumbs and one very dead, and probably quite surprised cockroach. Which, in the best of comic tradition, landed in the Oracle’s breakfast. I swear, I was nowhere near the toaster at the time. It was not long after this that Delphi suggested that it would perhaps be a good idea if Chris and I met the X-Men.
She dragged me out of the room by the front of my pyjamas to find me a black cloak.
Before we went Chris and I got dressed into the clothes that we had bought a while ago. Although hoping that I could put it off as long as possible, I knew that I would, sooner or later, have to join the Oracle, and so we had got costumes. Chris was dressed first. We’d chosen clothes that would stand out the most. She was in black. A pair of leggings and skin tight top. Her hair was out and both it and her skin looked white against her clothes. I wore green, a deep emerald shade. My brown hair was plaited around my head. While my outfit was along the same lines as hers, no one would look at me, while she was there. I grabbed my walkman and returned downstairs where the others were also waiting.
*****************************************************************
The danger room was a hive of activity. Each person had their own tasks and was performing them with alacrity. Between one moment and the next, several new figures appeared and the danger room shut off at this sudden inclusion of seven new players.
The X-Men, surprised, were ready for a fight. They only relaxed slightly when they saw the cowled black cloaks that were the mark of the followers of the Oracle. Before anyone could say anything, a tuneful voice, from behind the hulking figure that had to be Sabretooth, sang:
"There’s no aphrodisiac like loneliness, truth, beauty and a bottle of scotch."
The X-Men looked a little shocked. There was some sniggering from the cloaked ranks. Sabretooth turned and picked up the now humming figure who stopped at this.
"Put me down, you nasty bundle of muscle and neuroses." It said, as Sabretooth dumped it in front of him, and the hood slipped off.
It was a woman, in her late teens-early twenties. She was only of average height, about 5"5, and had chestnut brown hair wound in a plaited coil around her head. She was dressed in a forest green outfit, with black boots and a walkman.
"I guess none of you have heard of the Whitlams?" The X-Men looked at her blankly as she shoved the earphones into the pocket of her cloak. "I'm here to meet you. I’m Fortune."
"Misfortune." Sabretooth muttered. Russet stepped forward, her hood down and her cloak flipped back.
"‘Tooth’s right, she’s not married. So I guess she is Miss Fortune." She said in her inevitably cheerful voice.
"Yup." Fortune said giving Russet a sidelong glance. "I guess I could be called that."
So what’s that for? Fortune asked through the peculiar mental connection that they were surprised to find still worked now that they were in the same Universe.
That’s for the toaster, Russet replied give me a minute to get to the rest of breakfast.
"She um, she, um. What is you do, Fortune?" Russet said.
"She’s a walking disaster." Sabretooth rumbled. From the flurry of cloaks that happened then, it seemed that Fortune had kicked at Sabretooth, but had somehow ended up falling over the trailing end of her own cloak. She staggered over and sat down heavily.
Now another cloaked figure stepped forward, and pushed back its hood. The male X-Men gazed at her with some interest.
"I am Fancy." The tall blond said, running her eyes over the X-Men as though absorbing them into her memory.
You know she puts both of us in the shade. Fortune sent to Russet, who rolled her eyes in return.
"Hey, guys!" Russet announced distracting everyone as Fancy pulled her hood back and stepped away. Russet had the glow of an idea, which must have been very lonely, Fortune thought crossly, shining from her expressive, if vacant, face. "I just had the coolest idea. Since we haven’t seen Fortune do much, how about she does something with the X-Men? After all we are in their emergency room."
"That’s Danger Room." Cyclops said stiffly.
"What, all of us?" Iceman said at the same time.
"Sure. Then we can see, like, if she’s good enough to be on our team." Russet said cheerfully. "We’ll go up to that glass room thingie and keep an eye on things." Without bothering to wait for a response, Ellis transported them up. Any one watching them at that moment would have seen Russet lick her finger and draw a line in the air.
Down below Fortune was back on her feet. Her mind blurred in an attempt to think of a way to do this without putting herself in danger.
"Ummmm…. How about a game of tag? If any of you tag me, the game’s over. But if I tag you, you’re out and can’t play any more. Got to be contact by hand though, OK?"
The X-Men were getting sick of being humiliated by the Oracle’s band, so they nodded rather grimly. Master Takubyashi's voice floated down from the control booth.
"Let the game begin."
Cannonball headed the assault, shooting towards her with his hands outstretched. She took one step towards him and stumbled as he reached her and hit... nothing. She had ducked to undo her long cloak. As he flew over her, she abruptly reached up and grabbed his arm.
"Tag." She called as he dragged her into the air, leaving the cloak behind. Just as he reached the top of the room she let go, to fall the two stories to the floor. As she tumbled, Rogue went to catch her, as did Jean telekinetically. Somehow Jean grabbed Rogue instead, rendering her unable to move. At that moment Fortune tumbled past and reached out a hand. "Tag."
Beast hadn’t seen any of this. Bounding across the room after Fortune had first tagged Cannonball, he’d stood on something sharp. Glancing down, he saw that it was Fortune’s walkman. He didn’t get a chance to look up again, because Fortune had hit him on the shoulders, and they both tumbled to the ground. As Beast lay there trying to catch his breath he heard:
"Tag."
Fortune bounced off him and away. She did however have something in her hand. Two somethings, the batteries from the now thoroughly crushed walkman.
She saw Iceman advancing on her and, in a useless gesture, threw them in his general direction, missing by a long way. Iceman fired ice at her, and she leapt and twisted, by some feat of agility managing to remain at the top of this growing spiral of ice. Psylocke was looking amused next to Iceman, watching the increasingly uncoordinated movements of their foe. Cyclops was not far away either, and he had one of the bigger complaints about the Oracle and her crew. He still brooded about Russet’s comments on his supposed sex change. He narrowed his eyes, and focused a shot at the girl on the spire of ice.
Fortune slipped and started sliding down the ice. Psylocke stepped forward to tag the girl when she hit the bottom, and slipped on one of the batteries. With the honed reflexes of a ninja, she balanced her weight on the other foot, which was also, she discovered a second too late, resting on a battery. She skidded sideways, knocking Iceman down as she sprawled on the floor. Fortune had gained speed, and reached the floor. Not losing any momentum, she zoomed across the floor, past the recumbent Psylock and Iceman.
"Tag, Tag." She said quickly, tapping them with her outstretched arms, then. "Tag." she said as she whizzed straight between Cyclops’s legs on her way towards the wall. It was probably a shame that Bishop happened to be standing in front of the little patch of wall that she was heading for, and she knocked his feet out from under him as she slid the last few metres. "Tag."
She reached the wall, and cushioned her stop with her legs. Standing she looked around and saw the remaining X-Men. Jean was standing to one side, Angel was hovering above the downed Psylocke and Storm was watching her from the other side of the room. She looked more carefully and saw Gambit lounging against a wall in the shadows under the Control booth, inspecting her with hooded eyes.
Up in the control booth, Blake and Russet were having problems catching their breath. Neither had laughed so hard in some time. Fancy was wringing her hands, concerned about her friend, and saying softly "She might do it, she might…"
Ellis, Master Takubyashi and Sabretooth were watching closely.
"I didn’t realise her ability to manipulate probability had this sort of effect." Ellis said.
"Nor, I suspect, did she." Master Takubyashi agreed.
Sabretooth just watched silently.
Fortune rubbed her aching knees and thought. This was going a lot better than she’d thought it would. In fact, she hadn’t expected to last nearly this long, and was stunned at her success so far. She figured that it didn’t really matter what happened now, she had proven herself. The chances of her getting any further were tiny, so she may as well just make an exciting exit. Storm started calling her winds up around her and Angel was hovering closer to her now. As she stood there, Fortune glanced up quickly at the control booth. She saw her new team-mates, and she saw the expressions on their faces. Her fists clenched. They were very surprised, to be precise they were stunned, at her success so far. Right then, she thought, I’ll show you that I’m good enough for your band of crooks and murderers.
Master Takubyashi and Fancy heard this. They both leant forward to see what happened next. This was how they saw the green spark that flickered in Fortune’s eyes. As Master Takubyashi leant forward he slipped a little, pressing down on one of the buttons on the panel. At the same time, Sabretooth swung his feet up, intending to rest them on the edge of the panel, but miscalculated and shifted two levers. The danger room powered up.
There was another green gleam, and Russet, giggling madly, turned to see what had happened. As she turned, she knocked Blake, also unsteady with laughter, who stepped sideways and stood on Sabretooth’s foot, which was now back on the ground. Almost by reflex, Sabretooth snarled and swung at Blake, who dodged, and fell against Russet, who leaned back and sat down heavily on the panels of delicate devices.
"SAFETY PARAMETERS BYPASSED." The words came up on both a large screen in the danger room itself and a smaller screen in the control booth.
"Oops." Russet said.
The danger room grew fuzzy and indistinct around the players.
"Oops." Said Fortune softly at the same time, somehow sounding much more serious.
The room was suddenly filled with rushing, bustling crowds of people. The walls faded away into city streets. Storm abruptly dismissed the winds she had been drawing, not wishing to hurt even these virtual people. Angel, who had been gliding past her, delicately balancing on the changing air patterns, lurched as they shifted too abruptly to correct for. He hit a spiral downwards and snapped his wings out to adjust. Before he could regain elegant flight, one wingtip hit something hard. Storm was not ready for this blow from her friend, and fell under it, grabbing instinctively for something to hold her upright. Her flailing hands caught at something, grasping it hard. The fact that it was Angel’s wing only unbalanced him further. They spun in ever closing loops towards the floor, landing in an inelegant knot, and before they could disentangle themselves they each felt a soft touch.
"Tag, tag."
While they had been watching closely, the rest of the Oracle’s crew lost sight of Fortune then.
"Where’s she gone?" Blake asked, wheezing out the words. He wiped his eyes and squinted downwards.
"She ducked." Sabretooth said, not very helpfully.
"She’s crawling towards Jean." Fancy said, and looked at her teammates. She was a new as Fortune was to the team, and although she was much nicer, in the back of her mind she wanted to show off as well. "If you like, I can make it so that all of you can hear what she’s thinking."
"Great." Russet grinned. "But be warned, she thinks in very odd ways."
*I’m going on a Jean hunt, I’m going on a Jean hunt.* Came Fortune’s thought.
*I’m going to catch a big one.* Came the next line.
Unable to help themselves Russet and Blake joined in. "I’m going to catch a big one."
*I’m not scared.*
Like the well trained vegemite kids they were Blake and Russet chimed in again. "I’m not scared."
*What a beautiful day.* The two echoed this line too. The door swung open and Cyclops burst in, looking at them wild eyed.
*O-Oh* Went the song in Fortune’s head with undoubted timing.
"O-oh." Russet and Blake sang at Cyclops.
"It’s Cyclops!" Russet said pre-empting Fortune’s line. Then they all looked out the window as they heard Fortunes mental shriek.
*My fingers!!*
Cyclops rushed over to the controls to shut down the Danger room. The throngs of people disappeared, leaving Jean standing in the middle of the room, next to the melting pile of ice, and on Fortune’s fingers. Fortune had her other hand around Jean’s ankle. They looked at each other for a moment. Jean moved her foot and Fortune smiled wryly.
"Tag."
She cradled her squashed fingers against her chest. Gambit pushed away from the wall he had been leaning on.
"Just you and me, neh?"
"How about we just call it quits." Fortune was backing away. "I don’t want anyone to get hurt."
"I don’t t’ink dat you are goin’ to hurt me, do you?" Gambit said softly.
"Who cares about you? It’s me I don’t want hurt." Fortune said. She took another step backwards, right onto a patch of ice. She threw out her arms to get her balance, but Gambit had been watching too closely to try and help her. She took a step forwards and slipped on another patch of the melting ice. She fell forward onto her face, her hands coming down to protect her face. She hit the floor, and with one outstretched hand, Gambit’s boot.
"Tag." Fortune rolled over onto her back. "Now I hurt." She sat up, groaning. Blake was the first down to her. He held out a hand to help her up.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
Fortune got to her feet as the other arrived, more sedately teleported by Ellis. Russet was grinning widely.
"That was really cool." She said vacantly. "I didn’t think that you could do that."
"Neither did I." Fortune agreed. They turned and the door to the Danger room opened.
"When’re ya going ta finish?" Wolverine started. Then stared at the visitors. His eyes ran over them, and finally came to rest. Not on Russet, as most eyes did, but on Fortune.
"You."
"Argh." Fortune answered.
"Don’t tell me you’re working for the Oracle too." He didn’t sound pleased to be meeting up with her again.
"No. Not so much working for, as working with. She won’t be paying me." Fortune said. They both valiantly ignored Sabretooth’s smirk.
"Ah, Fortune? I don’t think you, like, told us you knew Wolverine?" Russet sounded very curious.
"I told you about the blizzard. Right? He’s the guy who saved me from dying of frostbite then, or starvation over the next three days." Sabretooth’s smirk graduated into a leer, and was joined by Russet’s dawning grin.
"You mean you…?"
"NO!!" Fortune blushed. The X-Men were watching with interest, not quite as willing to think badly of their team mate, but then they probably had good reason. The Oracle’s crew, on the other hand, were still unimpressed. Fortune was explaining to an unconvinced Blake exactly what had happened, and Ellis looked obviously bored.
"I think that we made our point. You want to go now?" She asked, and Master Takubyashi seemed eager to agree. Russet wasn’t listening, she was feeling as though someone had just forced a large piece of cardboard between her ears. The L.I.O.B. were making another of their little information drops. Before she could get confused by what was going on around her, she drew her cloak around her and levitated a little above the ground, her eyes glowed.
"Cyclops, Listen." Everyone fell silent."You Must Leave Now."
"I, you, I can’t ." Cyclops was arguing. Would the man never learn?
"You Can, And You Will. You, Psylocke, Cannonball, Beast And Rogue Must Go To A Town Called Newstead In Missouri."
Every one looked at her in a stunned silence.
"And You Will Now Direct Us To The Door. We have Shown You That You Have No Choice, And We Can Now Leave." She came down again. No one moved for a moment. Then a snigger broke the silence.
"That was really odd. Do you do that at parties?" Fortune asked.
"Do what?" Russet looked confused. "Oh, did the Oracle say something?"
"Don’t worry dear, nothing that you should worry about." Fortune patted her hand kindly. Jean, the consummate hostess, waved a hand at the door and they all trooped out.
"Ah heard that the Scarlet Witch could manipulate probability, but Ah’d never seen anything like that." Rogue said to Fortune.
"Neither have I, to be honest." Fortune grinned up at her. "It’s actually called balance. I umm, tip the odds. It’s a bit of a pity, but soon the odds will tip the other way."
"What do ya mean?" Cannonball asked. They were waiting for the elevator up to the ground floor, a lot of the others having gone ahead.
"I was very lucky down there. My subconscious believes in poetic justice, so sooner or later something will happen that will balance that. It won’t be as bad as it could be, because I grazed my hands, hit my head, strained my knees, wrecked my walkman and got wet pants, but it’ll still be bad." She didn’t look like she really minded this, but the others looked impressed by her list of mishaps. They reached the ground floor and saw Fortune’s friends waiting at the door. As the walked over, Fortune sighed.
"I guess this means that I’m going to have to clean up the toaster. Not that I mind, it was my fault it blew up." They reached the door, and they all blinked at the bright sunlight. "It’s been great meeting you." Fortune sounded like she meant it. "I’ll see you aroouuuu…" Her voice rose as she missed the first step. Flailing her arms around she skidded the first two steps, then overbalanced and fell over, catching her foot under her as she tumbled the last few. She lay on the hard ground panting, and thought to herself, well, it’s happened now. Then the pain hit. She scrunched up her eyes and yelped quietly. Not finding this very satisfying with the pain still growing, she took a deep breath and swore long and loud. With the last syllable she opened her eyes, only to see a ring of concerned faces. Feeling a little calmer she spoke in a conversational tone.
"I think that I just broke my ankle. And I definitely hit my head hard. And twisted my elbow. Could we please go to somewhere they have anaesthetic, please?" She was quite proud of the control in her voice, then she was distracted by something else. A drop of moisture fell onto her hair, another onto the corner of her mouth, then onto her nose. "Oh no, rain’s all I need." She glanced up at the sky. Nope, blue and clear, she focused a little closer. Leaning over her head was a grinning Sabretooth. To be fair, he probably wasn't doing it on purpose.
Everyone, except Beast, who was now doing painful things to her ankle, turned to look first at her then at Sabretooth. Fortune gagged.
"I just got Sabretooth drool in my mouth." Fortune’s calm was slipping. A second later there was none left at all. "I AM GOING TO BE SICK!!! Someone give me some mouthwash, soap, detergent, bleach, turpentine, anything!!" Her words were slurred as she tried to speak without actually using her mouth. She hawked, then spat, onto Bishop's shoes. Having ignored all this as trivia, Beast gave his diagnosis on the ankle.
"There is no need to worry, your primary hypothesis was incorrect. You have only sprained your limb. Do not overextend it and it will be fine in a few days."
He thought that she was taking this rather badly, as he noted that she was wiping her face on Sabretooth’s cloak.
"You people do know what's going to happen to me now, right?" Fortune asked. "I’ve been marked for death now, I'm going to melt into a steaming pile of mush. I can feel it starting already, my face is numb… No, now it’s beginning to melt." She sat up abruptly. "My face is melting, I’m going to die a terrible death, and I’ll come back and haunt you, Sabretooth. I’ll hover around your head and scream ‘I’m coming to get you Vicky darling, I’m coming to get you!’." Everyone looked at her rather helplessly.
"I’d slap her," Ellis said. "but I don’t want to get any drool on my hand." Blake and Master Takubyashi nodded solemnly.
Russet grabbed Fortune by the back of her shirt. She looked at everyone and gave one of her sweet, vapid smiles.
"This was, like, really fun, but I think we should go now." Ellis teleported them away in the twinkling of an eye.
Two hours later, Russet sat back in her chair and sighed. She had finally got Fortune calmed down - it had only taken half a bar of soap and all the mouth wash they had - and she was now talking to Fancy. Sabretooth was so busy being smug he hadn’t been a problem, and the other three were trying to find a game in which none of them had an unfair advantage. She closed her eyes. Life was interesting and, she had to admit, fun.
The End