M'gann M'orzz

“Indeed, I would encourage it. And luckily, it is fairly rare to meet opponents carrying heated blades—though it does happen, and is unpleasant—or ones who would be clever enough to know that is your weakness,” Diana pointed out, tapping her fingertips against the edge of the counter. “You have the great advantage of being, to most, an unknown. In a battle, especially with an opponent who does not anticipate your abilities, you will being able to catch them by surprise. Few would expect anyone to be able to shift a limb into a weapon, and it would frighten or panic them. And you would, indeed, be able to judge your opponent first to see whether such an attack would be wise.” 

Diana hummed in thought as she pondered the question, turning back to their omelettes and sliding them onto their prepared plates. “Sometimes just a show of your transformative abilities is enough. I have seen J’onn send grown men running screaming by shifting into a dragon or a dinosaur. Have you tried something of the sort?”

“It doesn’t even need to be a sword. The possibilities are endless. With training I could hypothetically use, well, any number of short-range weapons. They just need to be attached to me at all times.” She leaned on her elbows. Brow knitted in thought. “But I don’t,” M’gann swallowed. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I’d rather not even hurt anyone if I can subdue them through other means.”

“I spent spring break my junior year living among a pod of whales,” M’gann answered, trying to come up with anything half so impressive. “I have shifted into dragons and dinosaurs, but not in years. Not since my training.” With the ban in place, she’d lived as a human for seven years. She’d practiced in secret. Never missed a day. But there was only so much she could do without drawing attention to herself. “I did a lot of detail work, but I couldn’t risk anything so grand as that. Even with the whales, I had to be careful that no one would miss me for that week and that there wouldn’t be any video footage of a university student walking into the water and never coming out. I still don’t know where I could practice those particular limits.”

God, M’gann needed to get out of the library more often. Even Conner knew about this stuff, and he’d been grown in a lab. In fact, you’d think, what with all the smutty books in the romance section, she’d have picked up on more of it. “I’m always grateful for you, Maggie.” She was so cute, it should be illegal. Seriously. “Why not banana? Do you have something against bananas? They’re full of potassium.” 

The expression “well-muscled flirt” might be the nicest thing M’gann had ever said about him, and he was all set to inform her that he enjoyed her dirty talk, when she was suddenly just the tiniest bit taller than him. It was so incredibly awesome and he whistled to show he was impressed with her skills. And then she stormed off and Conner had no idea what he’d done wrong. He assumed he’d done something, cuz … well, it was just the most likely thing. Catching up to her without any real effort, Conner walked backwards so that he could face her and still talk. “C’mon, Red, you’re not really mad at me, are you? I like you just the way you are! Not that you’re not awesome at any size, cuz you know, you are, but I think you’re just perfectly sized.” He itched to call her Tinkerbell but held back, because he had willpower of steel.

“I thought you and I, you know, the whole flirting thing, it was just us having fun, cuz you knew that I liked you. Cuz you know, you’re adorable and I would totally steal you from Wally in a heartbeat if he wasn’t apparently twice the man I am. Which seems super unlikely, but you know, people can be wrong.” He levitated above the sidewalk so he could get on his knees and still stay at her eye level. “Please forgive me. I’m sorry.”

“I have nothing against bananas. I love bananas! But I wouldn’t use ‘banana’ as my special safe word because even though they are a nutritious, versatile snack and, yes, loaded with potassium, I don’t think it would be very dignified for…” M’gann reddened. “That.”

She turned back to face Conner, already feeling quite guilty that she’d stomped off. “No. No. I’m not mad.” M’gann frowned. This was painful for her. When it came down to it, she really wasn’t angry. She was sad. “I’ve always been small.” She looked at the sidewalk. “When I left Mars, I was about five inches shorter than I am now… Like this. Malnutrition,” she explained, grimly. “No matter how hard we worked there was never enough to eat. But that’s not even why I’m…” She swallowed, desperate to explain it away as fast as possible. “You know I’m a White Martian. Outside of my immediate family, pretty much everyone I ever met thought that I was absolutely repulsive. A monster. When I came here, I adjusted my height a little bit to compare to human standards, but it’s the only thing I kept about my old appearance.”

“Conner, you don’t really like me,” M’gann said softly. “I mean, you like me as a friend. Of course. You might even be a little attracted to me. Shortness and all. I don’t think you really like me any more than that.” Unless she was really misinterpreting things. In all fairness, she knew there was a chance that she might be misinterpreting things. Romantic attraction was singularly difficult for her to recognize when it was aimed right after, and she couldn’t even read Conner’s emotions anymore.

“He’s not ‘twice the man’ you are. You’re brave and funny and warm. I happen to think you’re wonderful.” She smiled thoughtfully. “Wally and I are in love. We’re good for each other. What we have is special. He makes me feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be for the first time in my life. So, you can flirt with me all you like. I just feel I should warn you… You won’t be able to steal me away. I’m his as long as he’ll have me.” M’gann rested her hand on Conner’s arm. “I appreciate that. You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“Now, now. You’re the one spilling secrets today, not me.” She wasn’t going to spell out exactly what she did, not beyond what M’gann might have put together for herself, and completely eliminate even the trace amounts of possibility of ever pulling it off again. If M’gann got away from her, if June survived whatever made that possible, and if M’gann stayed within the city or some place she could locate her…well, it would be a shame to leave off without answering all her questions. 

The quickly-vanishing blood confirmed what she’d suspected. The material connected to the apheresis machine was still in tact, even though it had technically been out of her body for much longer than the blood on her fingertip. It couldn’t be exposure to the air alone that caused it. Still, that was a very minor piece to the puzzle. She looked at the clean pad of her finger curiously all the same. 

Heat can kill me. And not much of it, judging by that. It would be a quick finish, if June needed it to be. Maybe her easiest one yet. M’gann’s sudden begging and the crash of the lamp did nothing to deter June. She stood up and moved to tighten the restraints that bound her arms and legs and stopped only when she could see the skin beneath them begin to indent from the added pressure. She couldn’t risk cutting off circulation, but she’d not have her wriggling free either. The lamp, she stood upright again and brought the bulb down closer to M’gann’s face. Even without the complication from the heat, it would have been uncomfortably bright and hot even for a human. 

“Your skeletal structure. Tell me about it. Do you have bones like we do? Is this just a shell?” As she asked she pressed the tip of the scalpel, equipped with a number 10 blade, against the arm opposite of the one she’d used to begin the apheresis. It was plenty sharp enough to cut into the tissue and muscle, though she would need something much more specialized if she meant to make it through bone. Of course…she had it. 

Her jaw trembled at that, but M’gann forced herself to grit her teeth and look away. She was trying to keep straight what details she could in her mind. Somehow the scientist had surveilled her from a distance. Most likely with recording equipment or an associate. M’gann tried to remember any other unfamiliar signatures she’d been picking up recently. But she couldn’t come up with any one in particular. Even if her mind had been firing from all cylinders, that wasn’t really how she worked.

She tried to push covertly against the restraints as the scientist tightened them, hoping to allow herself some give when they were done. The woman didn’t fall for it. Only tugged them even tighter. Then the light came down. M’gann arched her neck away from the heat but couldn’t escape it and in no time at all the extreme heat made her physically ill. Her stomach churned. She hadn’t eaten anything yet that day, nothing other than the tea, so she merely dry heaved into the air beside her. All over her body, she lost pigmentation. Her skin lost any last traces of color that had gotten through the drugs. Her fiery hair paled. Even her blue eyes dulled. Lost their depth and shine. She was ashen. Ghostly. Too long like this and she would certainly die.

“Haven’t you noticed the recurring theme of me being unable to sway him on anything? I’m flattered that you have such faith in me, but…. it’s definitely misplaced.” The dog had stopped to glance at M’gann when she’d said his name, so Wally jiggled the lead to get him moving again. “I hope you realise you’d be paying if we did go, I spent all my money on gummy bears.” He cringed slightly. “Again. I guess that’s another tip: keep track of your finances, or find someone who  can. Not everyone has as wide a budget as Batman. For me that may or may not have an effect on acquiring protein, you see how these things spiral out of control if you don’t stick to all the rules?” Despite the serious tone of M’gann’s question, Wally couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “Lmao no, have you met me? Hero’s don’t kill, they just don’t. Besides, pulling a trigger on a gun? It’s the easy way out; it’s for people who aren’t skilled, patient or moral enough to subdue non-lethally. And you can bet that I’m a well-trained professional.” He thumbed himself in the chest with a cocky grin. “Besides, superspeed, remember? Who needs lethal force when you can tie the bad guys up before they even know you’re there. And as an addendum, I’m sure you’ve met Jason. He kills, or has killed, or will kill, wherever his head’s at now. And no one wants to be Jason, the guy’s a jerk.”

“That or they’re a divergent race. Aren’t there those Unhuman people or whatever they’re called, they have a magic dog or something. I don’t know if he talks, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” He ruffled the back of his hair in bewilderment as M’gann seemingly planned his diet out for him, but decided it was better to nod in acquiescence instead of falling in to a debate that he would lose either way. “Yeah, Potassium, Vitamin A, Mithril, Unobtanium, all the core food groups, of course. As long as they can be thrown onto or accompanying a steak it’s a win for me.”

Wally cocked an eyebrow at M’gann, saying nothing as he mulled over her confession. “So let me get this straight.” He muttered eventually. “Your sole act of teenage rebellion was to…. vandalise your school’s own mascot?” His jaw worked furiously for a few seconds as he tried to articulate his thought process. “You… you realise that’s a terrible prank right? You got peer pressured into committing vandalism, but you didn’t even deface the mascot of a rival school?” Wally laughed, hard and loudly. He rubbed the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye with his palm, then gave M’gann a pitying smile. “You’re so sweet that you can’t even commit small crimes, which is just about the most adorable thing ever.” He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close to him. “I think your karmic slate’s been wiped clean by this point.”

“Ah yes, Stage Coaches, the readily available and still widely used method of transportation across all of the untamed frontiers.” Wally tapped his nose sagely. “You know, I actually can swim in gold. The speed force generates a forcefield around my body, otherwise I’d be ripped apart by the G force every time I hit lightspeed. But it also passively repels most objects unless they’re coming at me with a lot of force, so gold coins would move around me similarly to water. Fascinating stuff, really.” He scratched his chin in though. “I think the only cowboys that use accordions live in New Orleans, and that’s a bit muggy for tastes. We’ll just have to blow into a jug or something? Which will discount me from singing at all, sadly. Such a shame!”

“Esteemed might be a strong word, but I’ll take what I can get. Though to make it convincing maybe we leave the tying-up rope at home. Generally speaking, bringing methods of restraint on a date is considered a faux pas. Learned that the hard way.” He made an exaggerated pained expression, but quickly transitioned to a genuine smile. “Though under the lights by the water has the potential to be a nice time, violence or no violence.” 

“The word ‘share’ implies a certain amount of even distribution, which is definitely not a concept this fat idiot would accept.” When Brucely looked up at Wally, it almost looked like the dog was grinning. “We need to brush you up on Earth pop culture.” He groaned, shaking his head in despair. “Dick Dastardly and Muttley was right there, and you shot right past it to Dastardly’s lame, Canadian cousin.” Wally bit his lower lip, trying to make a count in his head. “I’m gonna exercise my Right to Silence on this one, as I feel like my answer my incriminate me on the charges of being the Western Hic Boyfriend ™ to the Sophisticated City Girl ™.”

    “I’m not convinced that he can actually convince you,” she interrupted herself to make kissy noises at Brucely when he looked back at her, “to do anything.” M’gann gave Wally a look of befuddlement. “You know I’m good for it. I’m not exactly loaded myself, but it’s amazing what a good budget and a very favorable living situation can do for one’s savings. I think I might even be able to swing a couple ounces of toppings for you.” She pretended to actually calculate it. Nodding her head back and forth and doing the numbers in the air before them. “Yes. I can swing exactly four ounces of toppings without blowing my food budget.” She turned away, trying not to laugh at him as he continued. “Can you imagine if I were only with you for your money, Wally? I’d be the world’s worst gold digger.”

“Did you seriously just leh-mao me?” M’gann quirked her head to the side, gaping. “Here? On this, the day of my daughter’s wedding you ‘L-M-A-O’ me? Harsh.” She took his point, though. He brought some levity to a profoundly serious matter and she appreciated it. Gave his hand a little squeeze and shared a small smile. “Of course, I should have known. Once and always a professional, Mr. West. The kind of hero I’d like to be.” She meant that. For all his swagger, Wally was a real hero and she admired him greatly. He was brave and strong and true. It was just about enough to make her swoon. But she didn’t think his head needed to get any bigger, so she left it at that. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Possible. The Inhumans do have some unusual, powered animals. Do they all have powers though? It seems like only Shaggy has that super speed.” It took her a minute to figure out why Wally was giving her that funny look. “Don’t forget upsidaisium. Wal, when you’re nervous about something you can always talk to me about it. I promise I have no intention of correcting your diet. I might throw in a few extra vegetables when I cook for you. Might even try to teach you about the wonderful world of squash one of these days. But I’m not saying any of this to try and… control you. I like you how you are.” She paused, then added, “I might get you some gummy-vitamins from Costco, but I genuinely think you’ll like those.”

M’gann waited solemnly for Wally to find the words to express his shock and disapproval. She could sense the gears turning. Feel a lot of emotions that seemed closer to amusement than expected. “It wasn’t my sole act of teenage rebellion, but it was the only one where I committed a crime! We gave him a mustache and genitals. We sprayed a shaving cream penis onto Willie the Wombat like hooligans! How are you laughing at this?” Monica and George had laughed, too, come to think of it. “I’m not sweet! I’m… I’m… I’m hoping you’re right about my karmic slate.” She let out a little laugh of her own, starting to come around. “It would be a bit excessive if, like, an underhanded villain abducted me or something because the universe is still angry that I defaced the statue of a beloved marsupial.” M’gann nuzzled her head into his neck. “I’m not adorable. I’m a miscreant. You should watch out lest I drag you down into my bed of deceit.”

“I mean, that’s how I’d want to get around. Unless you’re planning on running me and your musical instruments from Tombstone to Dodge and everywhere in between.” She shot him a toothy grin. “That’s so cool. So, when you’re swimming in actual water, can you swim without getting wet? Would the forcefield repel the water too? I know it doesn’t come up super often, but what about quicksand? What about molten lava?” She was nothing if not curious. “I could use telekinesis on the coins, but I think I’d prefer just phasing through them.” M’gann gave him a tiny nod. “Just as long as you’ll sing for me in private, sometimes. I prefer your voice to any jug.”

“Just pick a night and say the word,” she answered, returning his smile. “I’m all yours.”

“You might be surprised,” she started. She caught a look at Brucely’s grin. “Then again, maybe you’re right.” M’gann opened her mouth to argue, but, to her dismay, she found herself agreeing with Wally. “My Earth pop culture is fine, thank you very much. In most areas.” She glanced away very quickly, then circled back to her point. “I already know about Dastardly and Muttley. I just forgot! So there.” She shook her head at him. “I grew up on a homestead and spent my first years on Earth in an Australian suburb. Yeah, I lived in Melbourne for University, but I think it’s a bit of a stretch to call me a Sophisticated City Girl ™. I think I’m just a Sophisticated Girl ™ who is very lucky to have a Dashing Nebraskan Boyfriend ™ and his unknowably vast collection of western belt buckles.”

///

“Fair enough. Elbows tend to be the best way to fuck someone up, especially if you have tiny fists. Do you have tiny fists?” Floyd raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to glance at her hands. He couldn’t help but snort at the way she behaved, getting reminded, just a little, of his daughter by the way that M’Gann’s ponytail bounced behind her or the little half-skip she did to keep up with Floyd’s long strides. Suddenly, his heart ached. Suddenly, he had no intention of escaping her. 

So instead, he just pushed his hands into his pockets and tried to swallow down the feeling of homesickness that had taken him over. He did these things—acted out, took contracts and didn’t follow through carefully, antagonized people who could squash him like a bug—because without Zoe there, he didn’t feel like he had anything to be careful for. He had no reason to take care of himself because, frankly, no one cared. 

Well, maybe Rick did. But Rick would understand. Right?

He nodded. “You pick, I’ll buy,” he replied simply. If he was going to get carted off to jail for the night, he might as well be there on a full stomach, right? He ducked into a side alley, gesturing for M’Gann to follow him as he picked up a briefcase that was hidden between two dumpsters, opening it up to find stacks of hundred dollar bills neatly lined up before he snapped it shut. 

“Jazz doesn’t sound half bad,” he replied. “And I might as well go to prison on a full stomach. I hate prison food.” 

“I think my fists are about the usual size.” Still jogging at his heels, M’gann balled up her hands in front of her and took a good, discerning look at them. Her fists were, indeed, tiny. Not that she would admit to that so easily. “Okay. So, I’m a little shorter than average and my hands are just a little smaller than average. It’s proportional!” She pantomimed a triple-punch on the air in front her. Left. Right. Left. “No one’s going to be thinking about that with these fists coming at full speed. But, yes, still more elbow game.”

They stopped and he gestured for her to follow him into the alley. M’gann cocked her head in disbelief. “You murder a man, leave his body in an alleyway, then pickup your… Payment in a different alley nearby?” Wally was going to get a kick out of this later. This was straight out of a spy movie. “And you’re waving me in to follow you. How do you know I’m not going to just take you in right here and now? You’ve given me a perfect opportunity.” It was strange. Reckless. M’gann took a step back. This man had either nothing to lose or an ace up his sleeve, and she wasn’t willing to take the risk without knowing more.

“What do you even do with hundred-dollar bills? Nobody accepts those!” She played it off. Biding her time. Gathering more information. Standing in the light outside the alley. His emotions were… Tired. Exhausted more than anything. M’gann couldn’t sense any desire to harm her, but she’d fallen into that trap before.

“Since you hate prison food, it might be a good idea to, I don’t know,” M’gann tapped a finger on her chin. “Not murder people?” Her brow raised. Eyes narrowed. The corners of her lips pulled back and tensed, so she was still smiling but giving him an unmistakable look. And then it was gone. “They have dancing, too, if you’re interested in one last song before I take you in. I’m thinking we can ask the bandleader for something clever. Maybe After You’ve Gone? Or Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone?”

Aaron’s mind was… a mess. Normally, in times of crisis, it was. It was the very reason he could never be an X-Man. Even if he had any powers whatsoever that were conducive to fighting, which he didn’t really, he would never be able to handle the mental strain. With no way to block out anything, this was just his life. Every crisis was his crisis. Every struggle was his struggle. And with something so citywide, there wasn’t a single place that was safe from processing what had happened. Not even his own home. The emotions were just too loud. As such, it had resulted in something rather akin to a neverending migraine wherein nothing he did could soothe it. He’d tried. The distractions he had set up were meagre. The piano was strewn with sheet music, a half finished puzzle on the coffee table, his television on and the main menu of some fighter game open with the music looping and clashing with the very loud music playing through the apartment. Electronic and bass-y and very much not emotional in its own right. Just loud. He wasn’t even sure he would call it music, so much, but that didn’t really matter. He had felt M’Gann coming and unlocked the door, though his head was pounding and he was worried he wouldn’t be much company unless she could actually drown things out a little bit. He’d seen her a few times since he’d met her and he enjoyed her company. There was an ease of being around her, like walking through daisy fields or the feeling one got when one stepped into a bakery in the morning. She was calming. His friend. 

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Normally I’m not so messy, as you know. Just…” He waved his hand vaguely before shrugging, not sure what else to say about it. He had texted, but she had been busy. Now, he could feel her concern and a wash of guilt of his own washed over him. He hadn’t meant to worry her. He was just hoping…

And there it was. Dulling the emotional impact of everything just attacking him hard and fast. It wasn’t gone, but for a brief moment he could breathe. And when he did, he let out a slow and even breath before pinching the bridge of his nose and then moving to rest his forehead on the wall, just appreciating how it had let up just a little bit. He would take just a little bit. “God, you’re amazing,” he said quietly. “Wish you could teach me that.”

“Hey now. No feeling guilty here,” she said gently. Guilt nagged and gnawed at him even though he had no rational reason to let it. M’gann understood why it happened like that. The basics, at least. She didn’t like to worry her friends, either. But M’gann was exactly the person Aaron should worry about this kind of thing. She could help him. Take some of that burden away. M’gann winced as the music peaked.

She watched Aaron press his forehead against the wall. If he were anyone else, she’d have put an arm around him. A hand on his shoulder. Instead, she sat down beside him, careful to stay about a foot away, and put her head against the wall too. “Amazing would be if I could take all of it away.” M’gann closed her eyes. The wall was nice and cool. “The way things are I’d put myself somewhere between useful and modestly accomplished. If I were amazing, I’d…”

She opened her left eye and peered at him, still pressed up against the wall. It had been difficult to tell at first. She’d been filtering emotions out as they wore off and their originators went to sleep, so her mind was already somewhat less cluttered than his. “Aaron, are you still holding onto last night’s emotions?” M’gann wasn’t trying to listen, but Aaron’s mind was loud. Somewhat quieter than it had been when she’d first shielded them, but still loud. “I can feel them still...” The fear that made one run.  Anger enough to push and shove. Things that should have worn off with the light of morning. She swallowed. “I can help with that. I just… You’d need to let me into your mind for a few minutes.” 

“Aww c’mon now, I saw that present of yours, it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a crafts shop.” he said with a grin, “Besides, isn’t all wool itch? Grammy Nelson used to knit for us at Christmas and Ma and Pa would always buy us under-shirts so we could wear those wooly jumpers of love without itching like a flea-ridden dog.” he chuckled. “Ohh don’t tempt me with a good time.” he laughed, “It’s been ages since I went out somewhere to dance, I’m real good at it too. It may not look like it,” he gestured to himself, “But I got rhythm.”

“Well that’s good cause, between you and me I kinda only know the kidnapping kind… The ones my boyfriend told me about, and the ones who kidnapped me. But I got back okay, only mild nightmares.” he said with a laugh, downplaying the whole thing behind humour. “Good to know though. Hope Earth’s not been too horrible for ya, given NOVA and everything you must think we’re all pretty horrible huh?” He certainly wouldn’t feel welcome if he were an alien here. “Peter? Yea, he made a great life for himself in space.” There was more to it of course but that wasn’t his story to tell.

“I’m sure they must have before the curfew started, but maybe some day they’ll stop it and we can dance the night away. In a totally platonic-friend way!” he added quickly, “Wally ehhh?” he grinned slyly, “Does the librarian have a handsome man in her life?” he asked wiggling his eyebrows.    

“It sounds like you need better quality wool in your life,” she answered pleasantly, stifling a laugh at the image of Mr. Nelson and his family wearing his grandma’s homemade sweaters. “Good yarn makes all the difference. It’s like wearing a very warm cloud. It sounds like you need to get your boyfriend into dancing, Mr. Nelson. You can teach him the steps.”

M’gann put a hand on her elbow. “I’m so sorry. I don’t… I don’t really know what to say. Third time’s a charm?” Two alien kidnappings and ‘mild’ nightmares. It was wonder he hadn’t picked up his papers and made a hasty exit. She felt guilty despite not being remotely involved with any alien traffickers. M’gann managed to smile and fake her way through the next question. “Earth has been nice. I’m grateful to be here.” They weren’t lies, per se. She was grateful to be on Earth and some of her time had been nice. But saying anything real felt wrong when Mr. Nelson had been through so much with other extraterrestrials. “Good. I’m glad to hear that, at least.”

“He is very handsome,” she agreed, reddening a bit. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. Maybe we could make it a double?”

“Work with what you’ve got! Sharp knife-like elbows are the kind of weapons everyone should use! Very versatile!” Illyana did a little mock elbow attack. “Well, it was inspired. I loved it. So unique! Anyone can hit someone with a sword, but to hit them with a fish? It’s the sort of thing my grandmother would’ve done, if she’d lived near the ocean.” 

“Generally, I discourage murder. It’s messy, and rude. When it comes to the fashisty, I’m a little more … lenient about the actions of others, but you know, I don’t like myself when I do bad things, so I try to avoid it.” When your soul popped out of your sternum, or into your hand, depending on its mood, and took the form of a sword, it was good to maintain strong moral boundaries. Clapping at the hovering, Illyana helped M’gann onto the disc. “You look so frightened! Anyone would think you’d never been to a cathouse before!”

They disappeared, and appeared outside Glitterati, the strip club near Opulence. It was upscale, as clubs went, and the talent was quite lovely, though Illyana found the angel and devil costumes that they wore sometimes a bit disappointing. So little effort. “Okay, so do we want to prop him up in a booth and order a couple dozen table dances, or just coat him in cheap tequila and drop him in the alley?”

M'gann nodded, weighing the idea in her mind a little too seriously before answering. “I think if my elbows were as sharp as knives, I’d be more likely to hurt myself than someone else.” She looked down, held her hands up, and poked her elbows into her sides a few times to demonstrate. “See, if the were all pointy I just know I’d impale myself. Now if they were wrist daggers.” M’gann excitedly shifted two neat blades onto the outside of her wrists and made a quick slash up, then back. “That could do a bit of damage there.”

“What did your grandmother hit people with, instead?” If not a fish or a sword. The only two logical choices.

“You’re making the right choice here, then. It’s… I prefer to do no harm at all where I can. I know how that sounds coming from someone who just, ah, knocked a man out with a marlin, but I mean it. This is a good idea. Maybe he’ll make better choices after this. Maybe NOVA will fire him and he’ll get a job that isn’t terrorizing innocent people.”

“I have never been to a---,” they arrived, “cathouse.” It happened so fast. Almost like Wally when he zipped about. When he carried her somewhere and they blinked into a new place. “Cheap tequila?” M’gann wasn’t entirely sure, but that somehow sounded better than whatever a table dance was. Probably someone dancing on a table only more provocative. She’d look it up later.

“Wonderful, i’m afraid so, it shall be just you and i for the rest of the day, so i am told. They tell me we could use the help the most in these streets, please do ask should you require any assistance with the lifting of bricks-” The god grinned “-unless you can, of course, lift them with ease yourself. In which case ignore me.” juggling the pillar on his shoulder, Thor offered the girl his hand with a grin “A pleasure to meet you, i’m Thor.”

Thor then shrugged his free shoulder “-i have been here for many hours, t’is the only reason but i have had much help, the people of this city are street proud folk and many had offered help.” Thor, still talking, had walked to the other end of the street, to the skip there and tossed the pillar in with ease. On his way back to pick up half a fallen wall, he kept talking away to her, as if they were old friends at this point. Thor was nothing, if not the welcoming sort. “-It looks worse than it is. Once you get the stone cleared away, then t’is a matter of sweeping mostly.” He glanced at her, arms full of rocks “-ti’s not so bad.”

“Oh. Well, it sounds like we’ll just have to get comfortable then.” M’gann grinned back. Thor had a strong handshake. Perhaps that was to be expected of a man who could carry a solid ton of concrete on one arm. Strong, but gentle. Careful not to hurt her. She listened as Thor explained the situation and tossed his pillar into the pile of debris. “I think you’re probably right. Just the big stuff first.”

It was strange to use her powers out in the open like this. M’gann had blended in as a human for seven years, but even once she’d been registered back in January using those gifts had been off limits. NOVA saw to that. Even the slightest public usage, shifting her hair back into a braid or telekinetically lifting a can down from the top shelf at the supermarket, had been strictly taboo up until a few days before. Even using her telekinesis to collect the plastic garbage, something the volunteer managers had been ecstatic about, M’gann had felt a little funny. Like NOVA might appear from the sewers and snap her up.

She felt around for signatures again, just in case. But there was no one. And no time like the present. M’gann looked around until she found a suitable concrete slab. It lifted off the ground and drifted carefully towards her, bits and pieces of rubble clambering onto it like a trolley. “What do you do for a living, Thor?” She smiled, trying to make light conversation while they worked.

Unethical. The word made her laugh, and she answered with a cold smile. “Well, ethics were never my strong suit. If they were, I might have a Nobel Prize by now.” Her work was worth that, but the community had been uninterested in the benefits she had to offer when it came at the expense of their precious ‘ethics’ that M’gann was citing. “Instead, I’m here with you. I’ve gone much too far down this path to change course now. Then those weeks of planning would all be for nothing.” And in that sentence, she answered M’gann’s other question. Of course she had been watching her. As soon as her original sample had proved useless, she’d immediately begun planning to remedy the failure. 

“I’ve been preparing for awhile. You’re a creature of habit, little Martian. You made it almost easy. And your roommate…NOVA gave me everything I needed on him. Dick Grayson. Nightwing. Adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Disappointingly human and ordinary, on a genetic level. Otherwise, I might have brought him here beside you. What else was there to account for? The little pup I left sleeping? She ate out of my hand when I drugged your tea.” The smile grew colder still and she dropped her hand away from M’gann’s temple, swiping up the blood with her fingertip. Would it disappear? How fast? She glanced at it every so often, just to see. 

“Empathy. Not something worth envying.” June had very little, and yet not none. She’d felt it for Christopher, irritatingly so, and it had originally been the motivation for her plug-ins. The barest amount of empathy coupled with a need to correct nature’s mistakes had spurred her forward. She did not want more, nor did she particularly believe that M’gann was limited to that. It was part of an answer, though, as was the story about her parents. “Well then, perhaps your parents and I would have something in common. They might appreciate how thorough I am.” It was a cruel thing to say, probably, but June half wondered if anger might provoke a little more hard truth. 

“What else? You’re impossibly weak to such basic things. The heat was a guess,” she glanced at one of the lamps, “but I was right, wasn’t I? Will it kill you or is it just an inconvenience?”  She picked up one of the scalpels from the tray and walked it between her fingers, letting the metal flash under the light. “What about healing? You’re a shapeshifter. If I damage this body, does it grow the pieces back? Does it send you into whatever your original form is? Careful with your answers. I’ll confirm every one. And you can call me Doctor.”

Her jaw tightened at that cold laugh. The scheming. The machinations. The sneaking and the conniving and the waiting. The waiting. All of it came down to that cold laugh and the smile behind it. It was all just a sick game to her captor, and M’gann had been the prize at the end. M’gann didn’t want to think that the scientist had already won, but… The thought of being trapped here ate at her willpower.

“How did you watch me?” M’gann’s voice was hardly above a whisper. She’d been so sure of her range. Her mind hadn’t failed to pick up on the scientist whenever they were within three blocks of each other. Even further during the first few weeks. Some nights, M’gann had even sought out that terrible signature. Tracking it within the city just to be sure that the scientist was far away. Tears pricked her eyes at the mention of Dick. She’d told Aaron about that fear after he’d told her how he’d found Daisy. Tied in the basement while her owner was murdered upstairs. The memory of it swam through her mind. Forced her to face, again, that sense of dread that the people M’gann loved might be hurt. Killed. Just to make it easier for people like this evil woman to study her.

The blood on June’s finger disappeared without a trace not twenty seconds after she’d wicked it from M’gann’s forehead.

Again, M’gann stayed silent. She stared up at the ceiling panels and refused to take the bait. Her parents had, of course, not really been scientists at all. And neither of them would have appreciated what this one was doing to their daughter.

“You could find out.” M’gann narrowed her eyes. There was still a chance they would find her or that the doctor would make a mistake and M’gann would break free on her own. It was early. Too early to feed June misinformation to purposely… End things. “Heat can kill me,” she said quietly. “Even these lamps are… I’m having a hard time breathing.” Between the heat and the drugs and the fear, she hadn’t quite caught her breath since she’d first been trapped under that heavy blanket when they were still in the car.

“Why is that?” June asked, not particularly caring about the answer. Of course she should have brought her there. She’d never seen anything like M’gann, and even if there were other Martians in existence (she suspected there were) none had crossed her path, and they were not numerous enough for any real data to be accessible to her. That was plenty of reason that she should have. What was the point of things existing if she couldn’t know them? Learn them? Use them? What purpose did they serve? 

She’d given a great deal of thought to just how to best analyze the abundance of material in front of her. The original sample she’d taken from M’gann had disintegrated in a matter of minutes, though regretfully she didn’t know exactly how many, so she’d made certain assumptions. There was some quality to Martians that kept their physical material in tact that required the rest of them. How much of them, though? If she separated one of the girl’s fingers from her body, would it last longer than a hair? How much longer? The potential for wasted time that came with answering that question meant finding a work-around first. So she had. 

After a good deal of thought, June had devised a bastardized form of apheresis that would allow a constant flow of blood and components to be fed both into her analyzer while some part of it remained in constant contact with M’gann’s body. If it went according to plan, which she suspected it would, it should eliminate all possibility of the material disintegrating before she could do anything with it. The machine was set up near the exam table, and as M’gann gave her answer, June pulled it closer and freed the other’s left arm from beneath the blanket. “I’ve always been a good stick, as they say,” she mused, readying the tubing and needle that would connect M’gann to the machine. All it took was a little poke and a few seconds of patience to see the blood begin to flow through the looping tubes. 

“How long will we have together, little girl?” Someone would come for her, eventually. June hadn’t left the city. Even though she’d taken a great many precautions, she wasn’t an idiot. Either someone would find M’gann or June would kill her first. Either way, their time was limited. “Make it easier on yourself and answer some of my questions the easy way. I promise there’s a much harder one if you don’t.”

But she’d leave that to her. In the mean time, she continued on. “You’re not just a shapeshifter. I’ve had those. What else can this do?” As she asked, she pressed one pointed nail against M’gann’s temple. “You picked up on something from me that first night. What is it? Empathy? Telepathy? Both?” Not unique, in and of themselves, but she wanted an exhaustive list. “Why aren’t there more of you?” 

As the machine ran and she waited on her answers (or lack of them), June stood up and gathered a tray of surgical tools to keep nearby. With the apheresis machine going and the first drops of sample touching the analyzer, she could move on to one of her earliest curiosities. “The hair I took from you disappeared. Tell me why.” 

M’gann blinked at the scientist. Squinting at her through the too-bright lights. “It’s wrong,” she breathed. “It’s unethical. You drugged me.” A startling implication sprang to mind. M’gann had lived in fear all summer long. It had taken no small amount of time and effort to convince herself that the scientist who’d stolen hair from her very head had lost interest. Moved on. Clearly, that fear had been well placed. “H’ronmeer. You’ve been surveilling me all this time?” She shuddered. “You kidnapped me from my home and now you’re planning to…” The shudder only grew.

She stayed her nerves as the scientist prepared a syringe. Braced herself. Gritted her teeth only to let out an involuntary squeak of pain when the needle pierced her arm. It was not a ‘good stick.’

“Not long.” It sounded like plain, childish stubbornness more than anything else. The woman, of course, didn’t know about those distress signals and M’gann had no intention of letting on about them. Not that M’gann had any way to tell if they’d reached their marks. There was the chance that they’d reached their marks, but not meant anything to them. Just a strange, passing thought. Easily swept up and forgotten. If that were the case, someone would first need to notice she was gone. She didn’t quite remember kicking a hole in the doorway, but she remembered that her phone was charging by the couch. Wherever she was, Dick wouldn’t be able to track her like he did when she was running late for curfew.

Her chances of survival were slim, and she knew it. “Not long, I hope.” She said nothing to the next thinly veiled threat. Merely held the scientist’s gaze for an uncomfortably long time. Uncomfortable for M’gann, at least. The air around her was so hot that it was a struggle to think, much less keep her eyes open. “What can I call you?”

It came as some surprise that she hadn’t reverted to her original form, but it made sense. M’gann had reverted on Earth only once and it had been from a shift back to her preferred form. Where J’onn usually reverted to his Martian form, or some iteration of it, M’gann’s body had instinctively gone back to the one she’d spent her recent years in. She had a few theories, but the most likely was that J’onn still thought of himself in that Martian shape whereas M’gann no longer did. She even dreamed in her human form. M’gann mind’s eye pictured her as a pretty redheaded girl. That wasn’t to say she would never see herself in any other way. But for now. For now, she stayed in form she’d worn since she’d arrived on Earth.

M’gann bit back an answer as the scientist pressed a sharp fingernail into her forehead. Sharp enough to hurt. Sharp enough to draw blood as she continued her line of questioning. M’gann squeezed her eyes shut. The little halfmoon-shaped cut healed over almost as soon as the scientist finished and drew back. It was a reflex. A small enough area to heal even with the heat and the drugs. But M’gann immediately wished she’d forced herself not to. “Empathy,” she answered quietly. “You felt happy when you tore my hair out. Satisfied. Like you’d gotten what you wanted. That’s how I knew it wasn’t an accident.” Her explanation was true, at least. The empathic branch of her telepathy was the part she couldn’t silence. Even now M’gann was picking up emotions at almost full power, only with a far more limited range than she was accustomed to.

“There was a civil war. My parents were scientists. They sent me to Earth so I would survive. Everyone who stayed was killed in the war or died to plague shortly after.” M’gann shut her eyes. It was a lie, but she was selling it. “My parents… I never saw them again.”

Melancholy || Steve and M’Gann

@maybemaybemartian

Steve thought he was doing an admirable job of not showing off how miserable he was. Perhaps he wasn’t right that he was miserable at all. Perhaps it wasn’t right that he wasn’t more excited to celebrate what had happened with Nova. But he couldn’t be. Because the first thing he had wanted to do was to go home to Bucky to talk about it. But he couldn’t. Who knew how long it would be until he could. If ever.

Still, though he was miserable, he had hidden it. He’d done the mission, the debriefing. But he didn’t expect to be approached by M’Gann M’Orzz after one of the meetings. He didn’t expect to have her looking at him with concerned blue eyes he recognized all too well. Crap. How did she know? Had Natasha told Tony who told Bruce, who told M’Gann? Or… did her powers tell her? He still wasn’t entirely sure what she could do. 

Still, he gave her a small smile. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong. “Hey, M’Gann,” he greeted. “Something I can help you with?”

Bruce had not, in fact, told M’gann about Steve and Bucky. Diana hadn’t told her either, though she had let her know that Steve was staying with her indefinitely. Nothing more needed to be said. M’gann knew Steve had been living with Bucky before he’d suddenly moved in with Diana. The two men had been together for such a long time and they’d seemed so happy, but clearly… Something had gone wrong in their relationship.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I would like to think so, but recently Grant Wilson came back after seventeen years. He’s not decayed.” Tim only knew that because Dick was living in Slade Wilson’s house, so he had taken the liberty of watching it to make sure his brother was okay. He couldn’t get past the security on the actual property, but he could see who came and went from it. He’d IDed the man outside the property and then run some records only to find that he was employed as a personal trainer. Grant Wilson. Son of Slade Wilson. Formerly deceased. He didn’t want to think about how he was back, and at the same time was desperately curious. He had yet to ask Dick about it, though. Had yet to assess the situation further.

He didn’t feel like fighting her. Instead he just shrugged before it all faded away anyway. 

He watched the dog bounding through the grass, surprised by the state she had brought him to. Tim didn’t think of M’Gann as a farm type person, but he just tried to take it at face value. “Why a farmyard? You weren’t a farmgirl, were you?” His mind was working as he kept looking around as if he could ascertain what exactly had led her to want a place like this for whatever it was they were doing.

She winced. Rose was a woman of few words, but she’d told M’gann that she would be more honest than she had been before. When she was Neary. So it was that M’gann knew about Rose’s brothers Grant and Joey. Knew that Rose lived with Joey and that he was an artist. Knew that Grant took after their father a bit more than that. But Rose had never said anything about Grant returning from the dead. M’gann couldn’t exactly fault her for that one. It wasn’t her business. But here, with Tim, she needed to know. Wanted answers. Answers about resurrection far more than answers about Grant.

“How did he come back?” M’gann asked. “Does he show any side effects from being… dead?” Surely, he must. Seventeen years dead was an awfully long time.

Floyd figured that if he was going to get caught, it might as well happen in Star City, where he was still under NOVA’s meager protection. At least now, if he ended up in jail, there would be someone there to bail him out. He knew that it wasn’t the best strategy—usually, he was so much more careful than this, so much more organized and strategic about everything. Floyd had been reckless as of late, and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to stop himself, so instead of stopping, he just kept going, as if he didn’t have a choice. That wasn’t a good plan in the long term, but Floyd rarely thought about the long-term road anyway. He never pictured himself as having a future. 

He noticed her following him two blocks before she approached and he knew that he was going to end up in some sort of trouble that evening. No matter. Even if he did, then he supposed that he’d deal with the consequences, like he always did. Say what. you will about Floyd, when he got caught for his crimes, he generally did the time without much complaint. He’d gotten accustomed to it by then, and he wasn’t going to stop her from tossing him in jail if it made her feel better. 

“Actually, I was going to go pick up a fat-ass paycheck,” he replied. “Dinner’s on me tonight if you want a bite before you try to kick my skull in or something.” 

“Never really been much of a kicker. More of an elbow girl, you know?” M’gann playfully jabbed her left elbow out. It was her left arm. Street side rather than aimed at him. Even if she swung with her right arm it wouldn’t have appeared particularly intimidating. A full head shorter than him, M’gann needed to trot just to keep up. Add in her red ponytail bouncing behind her and she wasn’t exactly threatening.

Despite coming to Earth with the intention of becoming a superhero, M’gann hadn’t taken intimidation into account when she’d originally designed her human form. If she had, she’d probably have made herself a few inches taller and given herself eyes that didn’t widen like a frightened lamb whenever anyone so much as sneezed at her. As it was, though, her appearance at least made her seem disarmingly helpless and weak. A surprisingly practical advantage. 

“Well, if you’re buying,” she answered. It was a risk to have dinner with an assassin. But she had no intention of letting him escape and, judging by how he’d murdered that poor man, his methods weren’t likely to harm her. No. M’gann was most concerned with civilians. There was a chance he could hurt civilians wherever she tried to take him out. Fewer people in an alley, certainly. But more exits, too, and it would be far easier for him to claim an alien had suddenly attacked him out of nowhere if she threw him into an alley. That was out of the question with NOVA and that scientist trying to get their hands on her.

Thankfully, M’gann was more than equipped to handle situations with civilians. If it came down to it. With any luck, it wouldn’t. “There actually is a jazz club about a block and a half up. Live band and dancing on Fridays.  Plus, their spring rolls are super crunchy and fresh.” She’d been there a few times. Always liked a place with swing. “Or there’s a pancake house one further.”