M'gann M'orzz

@stargazingmartian

An advantage of having a wide variety of allies across the galaxy was that there was always someone that would be interested in lending a helping hand – the downside in Billy’s case was that he was twenty years too early. He would have to plead his case over and over, hoping that at least a few of them would believe his story and understand the danger they were all facing. Not to mention the fact that he would have to do all that without messing up with the time-space continuum.

Better to start off with the nicest ones, then. A location spell was all he needed to get an idea of where to find one of them and he waited outside the building until he spotted a head of fiery red hair.

“Hi, hello, er…” Wow, such eloquence. Truly the proud dignitary of an empire. “Miss M’orzz, Martian Manhunter… wait, do you already go by that alias? Damn, that’s not off to a good start, let me try again. My name’s Billy, I’m… from the future. Sorry for this horrible introduction, I swear I sound much cooler when I’m back home.”

There was something to be said about quiet lunchtimes. She liked the picnic table outside the library with the playground empty during school hours, save for the sparrows and the squirrels. Sometimes M’gann would talk to them, in as close a thing as non-sentient species came to language. She’d trade a sunflower seed for a song. A peanut for a pretty, weathered button.  

Today there was something not quite right. Her animal friends couldn’t pick up on it, but her Martian telepathy could. There was something shading in and out of her mind’s eye, almost prismatic as she allowed her radar to encircle it. Certainly, this was a boy approaching her. Not nearly young enough to be a child, but hardly old enough to be fully grown. He had that crackling, sparkling taste of a certain magic. And he reminded her of someone she couldn’t place, perhaps due to that static his telepathic signature was emitting.

Though she wasn’t surprised by his appearance at her picnic table, his statement gave her pause. M’gann, wrist deep in a bag of cashews with an army of impatient squirrels surrounding her every flank, blinked at Billy. Simply blinked at him for what one might describe as verging on an uncomfortably long period of time.

Then, scattering a handful of the crushed nuts for her little companions, she spoke.

“‘Your Highness, are you alright?” the archer called out to the princess after pushing her to safety.“ Roy picked up where M'gann had left off, making sure to keep his voice quiet despite the action of the story. The point, after all, was to lull Lian to sleep, not rile her up. "Dodging another of the Ice Queen’s beams, the archer reached into his quiver and pulled out a magic arrow”, he said, then paused momentarily to allow M'gann to create the visuals before continuing to the climax. “He drew back the arrow and sent it whizzing towards the Ice Queen!” He whizzed his hand in an arc to emphasize the movement of the arrow, making a little whoosh sound. Lian giggled sleepily.

“The Ice Queen sent a beam of ice towards the arrow, stopping it just inches away. 'Hahaha’, she cackled, 'You really think a silly arrow will stop me?’ But then the arrow burst open, releasing the magic inside!” Roy paused dramatically. “What happened next?” Lian asked. “You’ll find out next time,” he replied, tucking the covers around her. “Aww but I’m not even tired,” she said, yawning. Roy chuckled. “I think that big yawn would say otherwise.” He leaned down to give her forehead a kiss. “Goodnight, princess.” Lian yawned again, and burrowed down into the blanket. “Goodnight, M'gann. Goodnight, dad.”

Lian’s breathing became slow and even, and Roy gingerly stood up and made his way silently to the bedroom door. He allowed M'gann to go through first, then closed it with a quiet click. Turning towards M'gann with a grin he whispered, “Mission success, the princess has fallen asleep.”

They made their way down the hall and out into the living room. “Gotta say M'gann, those snow visuals tonight were something else. Looked almost like the real deal. Well, you know, in a cuter, more magical, less threatening kind of way.” He rounded the corner into the kitchen. “You want anything to drink? Mia brought by some really good ponche crema the other day. Or of course we have any of the usual stuff.” A clinking of glasses and a few moments later he returned with the drinks and after handing M'gann her’s, settled onto the couch. “Man,” he started, taking a sip of his drink, “you remember when we fought the real 'Ice Queen’? Seems like such a long time ago now..”

“‘Perfectly fine,’” the magical princess called from a convenient, if damp, haystack. M’gann let the magical princess fumble her way out of that one while she focused on Roy’s daring young archer. The arrow sparkled and shone with powerful magic as it zipped toward the ice queen, peeling open with a sprinkling of light before everything poured back into the book M’gann held open. And it all disappeared as she shut the book, save for the illusion of a puff of dust. All as if by wizardry itself. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Another mission successful,” she whispered back, raising a teasing eyebrow. “That’s what, a mission a night? Powerful stuff. Next thing you know, You-Know-Who will be after you instead of me.” M’gann grinned and followed him down the hall. “You always say that! I think you just have a thing for fluffy, cotton balls of snow. You know… They’re still each an individual, unique flake if you look closely enough.” She watched him with a straight face until she couldn’t hold it any more. “Well, they started out unique. Not my fault if Lian’s Story of Stories makes me a little sleepy, too!”

Harley had been worried about the whole class thing when she’d signed up for the soapmaking class (She didn’t even know that you could make soaps by yourself! Red would be very proud of her for testing it out) but she’d figured out where to go and had put on her Thursday best when the time came. She wasn’t a good learner, not anymore, but she was excited to try something new! Soapmaking seemed like a good way to start.

Now she sat, wildly enthusiastic, not even mildly perturbed by the fact she was the only person besides the sweet looking instructor. M'gann was a name that sounded very familiar, but the recognition was passing at best. “Of course,” she said with a giggle and a shrug. “Nice to meetcha!”

Harley was quick to spring up and scurry over to the aprons, oooh-ing at the selection. “Oh,” she said as she peered at each apron carefully, as if this was the most important decision of her life. “Just call me Harley! Everybody does.” Another moment of looking proved frustrating, and so with a mumbled ‘fuck it’, she grabbed one off the rack and put it on backwards- polkadotted, very cute - and snatched the 'Kiss the Cook’ one as well, putting that on correctly. She tied them both, then turned to M'gann with a beaming smile.

“Alrighty! Where do we start?”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Harley.” The woman’s enthusiasm was infectious and M’gann found herself beaming back at her student. “The double apron. Very astute. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve had to help someone paper towel paint or pizza dough off their bottom,” she said with a knowing nod. “And ‘Kiss the Cook,’ too. Always a popular choice!”

She pulled open the drawer of safety goggles and the drawer of fresh rubber gloves. “So the most important thing to know about making soap like this is that we will be using a mixture of water and lye, and that can get a little spicy on the skin so we have to be extra careful. Like chemists!” Even M’gann, who usually shifted into her clothing using her biosuit, took the precautions of real gloves and goggles. 

Pretending to be an average human civilian was much harder for the Martian than it might have appeared at first glance. She’d walked to meet her friends for brunch, already much more time consuming than flying, only to discover that it was pouring outside at the end of the meal. M’gann weighed her options carefully and decided, out and out lying to herself, that she well and truly enjoyed the subway. Casually, she walked down into the damp, dirty station and swiped her pass.  

The train was late, as usual, and crowded when it did arrive. So crowded that she was pushed against several people and, most brusquely, face to chest with a man much taller than her. “Sorry,” she apologized, trying to push back a little on the person behind her to give them a little breathing room. Failing that, she shrugged sheepishly and tried to be patient as the train moved on its way. 

She suddenly realized that her long red hair was draped over the shoulders of the man behind her and he was petting it. Running his fingers over it. Stroking it. This was a nightmare. 

@stargazingmartian

The glass windows of the building burned orange in the light from the setting sun. Tim had chosen evening for this particular mission because, although many of these administrative types worked around the clock, most of the rank and file personnel would have clocked out for the day. This way there would be less people to fight through if things went awry. Hopefully they wouldn’t, but it was better to be prepared for the worst than have it take you by surprise.

They reached the large double doors and the Peacekeeper pushed him through. As he was led across the shiny marble floor towards a reception desk, he took stock of the room. Elevators to the left, shadowed by the large staircase leading up to the next floor balcony. Additional balconies extended with each level towards the vaulted ceiling high above. Lots of visibility. That could make escape a bit more difficult, but Tim had the schematics of this place memorized, and he wouldn’t choose this way out of the building anyway. The roof access or the vents would be much better.

The reached reception and the secretary behind the counter greeted the Peacekeeper. “Caught another vigilante? Well done! Does the Magistrate want to see this one immediately, or should I notify the people down in Holding to get a cell ready?”

This night was weeks in the making, and not just for Tim. M’gann had quietly chosen her own mark, Angel Vallelungua. Shifting her body into his powerful build, complete with his beloved bird on her shoulder, was the easy part. It was one thing to observe a man and copy him from afar. It was simple, even, to slip invisibly into his pocket and nab his security clearance card just hours before mission start.

It was another thing to get close enough to a man to match his retinas perfectly. 

But that was a part of the job. She’d chosen Angel, or “Bird” as he preferred to be known professionally, because he spent most of his mornings at the pier with Talon. He was predictable. A couple hours of flirtatious small talk and she’d gotten all she needed from those eyes. Hazel, with the tiniest flecks of green. Her Martian mind memorized every mark. M’gann felt a pang of guilt, using him that way, but it comforted her to remember that Bird was one of the Magistrate’s top Peacekeepers. 

M’gann and Tim were going to sweep in and out. Get in. Let Tim do his thing. Get out. And none would be the wiser. Ideally, M’gann would return Bird’s clearance card before he even noticed it was missing.  But it rarely went so easily. They needed to be ready for anything. The stakes were high for both of them.

“Holding cell,” she said in Bird’s smooth voice. “Caught this one out trying to stop a purse snatching right out in the Village. Can you believe it? Right in the middle of a crowd.” M’gann reached into her pocket, into Bird’s pocket, and fed a piece of meat to the falcon on her shoulder. “And it was Talon that got the purse back.” She gave Tim a little shove to drive it home. “Let this one spend the night in a cell.” 

“The daring young archer leapt over the Ice Queen’s icy beam to shove the magical princess out of harm’s way.” M’gann’s illusion was cast all around Lian’s bedroom. Stuffed toys wore folksy peasant dress. The walls were a forest of green save for that Ice Queen’s blasts, but even those had a lightness to them. More soft snow than sharp ice. She’d been telling the story in her gentle, library voice for about half an hour. About the usual amount of time it took to get the little girl all tuckered out. M’gann looked to Roy, it was his turn to speak.

The never ending story’s twists and turns were all just Roy and M’gann quietly riffing on the adventures they shared a lifetime ago. They had quite the bedtime routine down for Lian. Once every week or two, M’gann paid a friendly visit to the Harper household. She’d help cook dinner, play with Lian, and then she and Jason would tell the Story of Stories. Then, if they survived, they’d get to tiptoe out of the room and talk like adults. But that was a big if. 

This one was always a nice course to teach. It was only an hour long, but it required her to do a little bit of extra, sweet smelling work the next day and again after about three weeks. M’gann ran it about once a month, ever since she’d started teaching at the library over a year prior. It was never too full, but M’gann had never had an attendance of one before.

“Welcome to Soapmaking 101.” She spoke kindly and directly to her sole student, the pretty blonde woman with the eclectic fashion sense. “I’m M’gann M’orzz and I’ll be your instructor today. Thanks for coming.”

Although M’gann enjoyed the chill of winter, she often lamented the dark of the evening when she left the library. Tonight, she left particularly late. Ice Cream for Beginners had gone long and the cleanup? Even longer. Only around eleven, with four pints in her overloaded purse, did she finally lock up.

She took the usual way home and started through the park. Unfortunately, M’gann found herself being followed by two men as she entered a copse of trees. It wasn’t the first time. They’d been watching her the past couple nights. M’gann could sense their ill intentions from a mile away, but there wasn’t very much to do about it and besides that, she knew she’d rather they take a crack at her rather than a powerless civilian. 

M’gann stopped, pretending to tie her shoe, and allowed them to approach her. 

“Hand over your bag. Wallet. Keys. Phone,” said the first, already close enough to whisper. 

“And let’s keep this quiet,” said the other, glancing over his shoulder.