Holding Out For A Hero 01 - Prologue
Author: Shadow Kyle
Archive: Yes, ask first please. kyle.scott@mindspring.com
Warnings: Adult topics and language, M/M slash themes, gender identity.
Rating: R. The NC-17 version can be viewed at my website.
Universe notes: I have taken liberties with the H-Dial for this story, but the DCU history of it remains true for the most part. The story begins in 2012. Tyler Lane is the adult son of Lucy Lane, Lois Kent's sister. Lucy Lane is a single mother in this universe. His father is Ron Troupe.
Disclaimer: Tyler Lane and Persephone are mine. Jamie Lynn Spears is her own person. "Dance Of The Vampires" was a musical produced in 2002. All other characters belong to the DCU of DC Comics. I'm just taking them out for a test drive.
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BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ... *SMACK*!
"...damn."
My name is Tyler Lane. And I'm in a world of ouch. A lot of it. My eyes opened and the evil red light glared back at me. The pain was there again. Unable to keep them open, I closed my eyes and succumbed to the blissful cloud that had kept me enshrouded for the past few hours.
How long had I been like this? How much longer could I hold out? What is that awful weight on my chest?
I struggle to lift my eyelids again. Through my lashes I could make out two glowing eyes peering at me intently. Like I was a steak. With mashed potatoes on the side. The eyes were surrounded by a black mask that accentuated the desperation (and... annoyance?) that glowed from within.
They never blinked once.
Not. Once.
The lids lowered just so and moved closer to my face. The pressure on my chest became more intense the closer the face got. I felt slight warmth, then a rough tongue flicked out between tiny sharp fangs.
And it licked me.
...ewww, cat breath!
"Persephone! Phew, I think it's time to brush your teeth again."
I cradled my Siamese in my arms as I sat up, nuzzling her forehead to mine. "OK, Perse. I'm getting up."
I reached out and turned off the evil alarm clock and groggily took stock of the situation.
It's Monday morning. 5:30am. Last night I had gone to my favorite bar in Chelsea for much longer than normal. That explains why I didn't want to wake up. I slept with my contact lenses in again. That accounts for the excruciating pain in my eyes. My cat wants food. Well, that's a given regardless of any situation.
Slipping out of the sheets, my feet found the floor and I shuffled my way into the kitchen, Perse padding beside me. I opened a top-most cupboard and perused the many epicurean delights that would tantalize my cat's taste buds.
"Which one this morning, hmmm?" Perse couldn't care less. I don't blame her. These contents of these tins all look the same and tend to smell as bad as they look. "Salmon Supreme it is!"
I opened the can and unceremoniously emptied the contents into her dish. I retrieve her bottle of spring water from the counter and filled her water bowl. I can still hear my aunt Lois' disbelief that my cat drinks only bottled water. I make no apologies. The water from the tap tastes awful, like it's right out of the Hudson. If I won't drink it, I won't force my fuzzy-baby to drink it either.
I set the coffee maker to begin my morning brew while I get myself ready for the shower. Stumbling into the bathroom and peering into the bathroom mirror, I squeezed the offending lenses out of my sore eyes. The world went blurry briefly before coming back into sharp focus when I put on my glasses.
Hmmmm. Black hair with that one gray stripe at the left temple. Check. Green irises. Check. Stubble on face. Check. Small scar from rollerblade mishap below pouty lips. Check.
Pouty lips? God, I could be so vain! But, yes, pouty lips nonetheless. Who am I to argue with nature?
A quick shave later, I was immersed in a shower that ended much too soon for my taste. I dry off and make a mental note that the towels need to be washed. Then quickly to the closet and pick out clothes for the day.
Hmmm. For today: tan slacks and a mock turtle neck. Add the t-shirt (no tag, who knew that Michael Jordan could be so persuasive a decade later) boxers, belt socks and sneakers and I'm all set. I dress quickly and check the clock. 6:10am. Still enough time to grab a bagel at Hot and Crusty's on the way to the subway. Wallet.
Where's my wallet?!? It's not on the dresser like normal. Like a madman, I tear through the pockets from last night's clothes and come up empty handed. I'm gripped with the sudden fear that some bastard could possible be going on a shopping spree on the internet with my recently paid off charge card!
I work my way through the bedroom and bathroom, looking into places that the wallet couldn't possibly be.
What was it mom always said? "If you ever lose something, look under the passenger seat in the car. Eight out of ten, it will be there."
Yeah, right, Mom. I don't own a car. No one of my means with any sense owns a car in New York City!
"If not there, it's in the kitchen."
I upturn cushions in the living room and when I'm just about to check under the chair I spot it on the counter in the kitchen.
Relief! It washes over me as I pick it up and check to make sure everything is still there. Of course it is, but growing up in New York this becomes second nature when you are separated from your wallet for any length of time. New Yorkers are many things, but inherently trusting we aren't.
I slip my wallet into my front pocket and that's when I see it: a gold timepiece was sitting on the counter next to where I found my wallet. I didn't own a watch. Call it vanity, but they tend to leave tan line marks on your wrist. I don't actively seek a tan, but I do prefer to have one skin tone. Where the hell did this come from?
I picked it up and touched the face of the clock... and it faded from view leaving a dial with the letters H E R O.
"What the..."
The dial let off a faint glow, each letter pulsing with illumination.
"... !?!"
Where the hell did this come from?
"Was it... ?"
That little girl! She couldn't have been more than eleven, running out of the alley last night. She bumped into me and we both ended up in a pile on the sidewalk. Scrambling out from a tangle of limbs, she took off down the street and disappeared before I could say anything. Shortly after a blonde girl in a pink and white jumpsuit came flying around the corner as well. Not *flying* as in moving really fast. But *flying* as in "Look! Up in the sky!"
"Lori!" she yelled, followed by some language that I couldn't decipher. It wasn't Spanish or French, that's for sure. I got that much from my high school language courses. She flew around the corner in hot pursuit of the girl.
I heard the young girl's voice down the way, "FRAG OFF, IMRA! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!!"
Another lesson learned as a New Yorker: stay out of the metahuman's way. Especially if you do not recognize them. We normal folk tend to become casualties with rampaging metas knocking each other about on the streets. Heeding that warning I ran down the steps into the subway and boarded the uptown 9. Thank god for the express at this late hour. I was blocks away before some super-powered badass decided to level the Village.
That girl must have slipped this into my pocket. I moved to sit down and with a thump my ass met with the kitchen floor. Oh, that's gonna bruise.
Perse stepped up into my lap and settled down there. I contemplated the watch again. The face was back, but when I touched it faded away revealing the dial. Maybe it was some sort of pager or something. I dialed the "H"....
OK, another New Yorker lesson. We can sometimes be incredibly dense. Sure, we don't trust anyone and we get out the way of flying people. But, we're also the first ones to say "OOOOOOO! What does THIS button do?"
Starting at the 12:00 position I dialed the H then worked my way around clockwise. And waited. No beeps, no buzzes. No little voice saying "hello?" Nothing. Except a blinding flash of light!
"ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod Hail Mary full of gra..." What the hell am I doing!?! I'm not Catholic!
The light was gone as quickly as it came and the watch face was back on the dial.
"About time you figured that thing out."
The voice came out of nowhere. I got up quickly, dumping Perse on the ground with a quick splat. Looking around the kitchen and living room, I saw that I was still alone. I tripped over my boot clad feet and stumbled out of the kitchen.
What a minute. I put on my sneakers this morning. I looked down and saw my own reflection in the glossy shine of the black leather boots. But, the reflection didn't quite ring true.
I ran to the bathroom mirror and just about passed out. It was me but it wasn't me. Ok, it would have been me if I were going out for Halloween. Long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. A tight white shirt covered by a black vest. Tight black leather pants. And a black scarf covering my nose and the lower half of my face. I slowly pulled down the scarf to reveal a full set of pouty lips. Thank god they were still there!
"Ah, vanity. Thy name is Tyler."
There's that voice again. Female. Deep and almost purring. I snuck my head into the hallway and there was Perse looking up at me.
"...Persephone?"
"Who else would it be, love?"
Then the world went black.
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"Pull back. Pull back. Pull back the darkness:" The voice kept resonating. "Pull back...ahhh, that's my love."
The darkfield that had instinctively appeared slowly drew itself within me.
I opened my eyes and there was my cat, Persephone, nuzzling me.
"...Perse?"
"It's all right, love. Just relax." she said. A low, deep vibration found me. It worked its way down from my hair, head, shoulders, arms, fingers, back, chest, stomach, ass, cock, balls, thighs, calves, soles, ankles, soles, and toes. The leather was suddenly unbearably tight. Too tight. And wet. I felt the wet against the leather.
"Relax, love. Just feel it."
The utter eroticism consumed me. I felt fire, snow, wind, rain, sand, sea, air, vacuum, indifference, enrapture, jealousy, love, rage, passion. All that mattered was feeling the warmth and throbbing. My arms and legs were so heavy. I couldn't concentrate.
"Oh, god... oh, god.... OH GOD!!!!"
A low purr filled my ears, coaxing me back from the upper stratosphere. "Love, come back to me now."
I opened my eyes and my cat was sitting upon my chest. My eyes were wide and racing.
"... I don't understand," I said.
"Love, it was destined. You shall be the hope," the voice rang in my head.
"...hope?" I asked.
"Yes, love. Our hope."
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I called in sick today. After five years with the Weisman Theatricals, I've never once taken a sick day. Understandably, Rivka was worried.
"What's wrong? You sound different."
"It's just the flu, Rivka. My voice is very sore right now. I don't know how long this will be. Will Sheri or someone else be able to cover for me for a day or so?"
"Of course! Take care of yourself. And see a doctor. You never know where these things can end up. We don't need you getting pneumonia with the 'Vampires' revival coming."
'Dance of the Vampires'. Oy! It was such a colossal flop when it debuted in 2002. Who would have thought that the biggest flop in Broadway history would be a major revival ten years later. Even 'Carrie' never had that distinction, regardless of how often it was rumored for a Lost Musicals production at Carnegie Hall.
"I will. I'll give you a call tonight to let you know how I'm doing."
"OK. Take care of yourself and drink lots of water! That's very important!"
"Yes, mother!"
"Don't sass me, missy! I know where you live!"
I hated lying to Rivka. She was one of the most honest people in show business. No games. No politics. Just doing a job which she loved to no end. Come to think of it, what was she doing in show business? She should be a nun or something. Do they have Jewish nuns? Sister Mary Rivka Stromberg. Hmmmm. No. It just didn't sound right. Plus, I can't see her not visiting Macy's on a regular basis. If it weren't for her, I'd be just another queer without any fashion sense. Yes, oddly enough, many of us are born without the Versache gene.
=================================================
I sat on my sofa while my cat paced back and forth across the table. Too weird. Mainly because I never would have allowed her on that table before. Before that watch began to change my life.
"There is so much you have to learn. And you are so different from the others."
"What are you talking about?!?" I said. "What the hell is going on? And what happened this morning? I'm not used to autoeroticism before I go to work! And why the hell are you talking to me anyway?!? Cats aren't supposed to chat! They eat, drink, shit in their litter box and sleep cuddled up at the foot of the bed! And what is up with the darkness and me being blonde and wearing these clothes?!?"
"Love..."
"What?!?"
"*Shush!*"
The blast hit me with such intensity that everything went white for a moment.
"There is much you have to learn. Much I must tell you. Think. What is your name?"
"...Tyler," I answered.
"Yes, but think again. What is your name?"
I thought. My pet is playing with my head. This whole thing is some sort of hallucination. I must have hit my head earlier in the kitchen. My name is...
"Vesper," I whisper. "My name is Vesper."
"Yes, Vesper. And what can you do?"
My mind reached. "The dark. I can make the darkness occur."
"Yes, love."
"And I can fly. And pass through things like a ghost."
The clarity of what I could do suddenly do sobered me. "Perse, what is going on?"
"You are the latest in the possession of the "H" dial. A mystical device that can transform the merest of man into a superhero."
"Why can you talk to me now?"
"I talked to you before. You couldn't understand me, though."
"Ooookay. ...so what about the... you know?"
"Tyler, I..." The voice hesitated for a brief moment. Tension suddenly filled the room as my cat squared her shoulders. "... I have ...loved you for many months now. I knew you would be the one to save me. I always knew. But shortly after you rescued me I came to realize that what I felt for you was... love."
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I thought back to when I first saw Persephone. I had visited the animal shelter with Rivka a few months ago. She was intent on finding a terrier. I don't care for dogs myself. They're too needy. I had no intention of finding a pet that would become my end-all be-all in life. I cold hardly commit to a boyfriend, much less something with fur and fangs.
While Rivka was browsing the dog pens, I was in the room with the cats. The cages lined the walls on the small room. I looked at a set of kittens that couldn't have been more that four weeks old. The attendant told me that they were being bottle fed since they were so young. Next to them was this adult Siamese. The attendant said that this cat had been found in an alley and this was her last week before she was put down.
Put down. I looked at the big blue eyes in the back of the cage. The cat stood and walked to the front of her confinement. She reached her dark paw between the wires and said, "Mreow."
Oh, she had me at "Mreow."
Rivka went home empty handed, while I had a new friend firmly in tow in a new pet carrier.
"Rivka, remind me again why we went to the animal shelter."
"Silly! We went to find me something from the Jack Russell collection."
"Then why am I bringing a cat home with me?"
"Because you finally heard the calling of the pussy?"
We laughed big and loud over that one!
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"You are not the first to possess of the dials. Before you there have been others, most notably teenagers. But while they did the piece justice, they were not the saviors. "
"Saviors? What do you me..."
"Not now, love," she responded. I flinched.
Love. Not only was I not ready for a relationship. My cat was now in love with me. And she was a she!
"The first three to have the dials were quite young. They did not possess the prowess or heart to command such a powerful responsibility. Though the first became quite formidable in its use. He became the Wizard, and it was to him that I was bound. There is a forth man, much like yourself, who now has another dial. He continues to this day to use its magicks."
"What about that little girl, Lori?"
"Ah. She is quite the enigma. There is much to be writ of her future. For even though she was born before you, her past will be written long after you are gone. And she is destined for greatness. But, you must always remember that with destiny come great changes. No matter how powerful you may become, things will rarely turn out the way you expect them."
"You're pretty wise for a cat."
"I haven't always been a cat."
And then it hit me. Perse lowered her head and her eyes bore straight into my mind. Her memories all at once. Darkness. Light. Sand. Celebrations. War. Pyramids. Wrappings. Tombs. Darkness. Light. Rebirth. Home. Love. War. Peace. Castles. Slavery. Royalty. Death. Rebirth. Swords. Duels. Arrows. Knights. Maidens. Battles. Death. Rebirth. Light. Dark. New. Old. Ships. Walking. Running. Thieving. Stalking. Hunting. Loving. Despising. Over and over. She had been so many things. From an Egyptian prince, to a rabbit gracing the lawns of the Norwegian palace, to a horse consumed by the fires of Mount Vesuvius, to a Nubian handmaiden bound for the new world as a slave, to a model for wearing a dress made out of popcorn balls walking down a fashion show runway, to a familiar to a wizard. How torturing it must be to find you can never have rest. Never have peace from your lives. Destined to live again, and again, and again.
Tears were flowing down my cheeks. I was not crying great heaving sobs, but yet the tears flowed freely from my eyes. This creature that I had called my pet had lived more, loved more, suffered more, laughed more than any of us would even know. And now she was here. Yet again fulfilling her own eternal destiny as she must until she is finally put to rest. She seemed so tired.
That is so odd, considering that she seemed to sleep most of the day.
"I don't sleep most of the day. When you aren't here I watch a lot of CNN and Lifetime."
I laughed wholeheartedly. At least my "pet" was up on current events and 'Cybil'.
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"Uh... Perse, are you sure about this?"
We are standing on the small balcony and I'm looking twenty-two stories down into an alleyway covered in very hard pavement. I can cast darkness and become immaterial, but those two things I can do without jumping to my death.
"Vesper, trust me on this. Trust yourself with the powers. You've already blacked out your entire apartment and walked through every wall in the place. This is the final step."
*Yeah, but the stepping doesn't so much scare me as the splat potential.*
"Listen to what you know," she said.
*Great. Now my cat has gone all "Kung Fu" on me.*
"I heard that. Don't make me kick your ass, little grasshopper! Now jump off the damned balcony and FLY!" I felt a push on my back and tumbled over the railing. I closed my eyes and waited for the pavement to make me into Tyler-flavored pudding.
"Vesper, open your eyes."
"No."
"Oh, Ra!" she exclaimed. "None of the others were this difficult. Even those two kids in high school had a bigger grasp on how to use their powers. Granted, the girl went insane... But no one ever doubted the powers. They just *did* what they knew they could!"
My eyes slowly opened. "The girl went insane? When were you going to tell me this? Is that what I have to look forward to?"
"Vesper?"
"What?"
"You're flying."
She was right. I looked down and saw that the pavement was still where it had been earlier. I looked back up into Perse's blue eyes. And grinned the biggest, goofiest, goddamn grin that my lips could muster.
"Go."
I took off straight up into the air above my building. Oh, this was so freakin' COOL! Ok, you're a gay man, not too bad looking, dressed up like rough trade, full pouty lips and you just discovered that you can fly. What are you going to do?
I'm going to Broadway!
I pulled the mask up and took off downtown, headed for Times Square. The skyline raced towards me. I felt a slight panic thinking I might not be able to stop. How do I do that? It's not like there are any brakes. What was that Bugs Bunny gag? Air brakes. Heh. I snickered to myself at the silly joke and looked up just in time to see the billboard rushing towards my face.
"Oh, shi...." I phased right through and came to a stop just on the other side. "Whoa." Well, now I know that I can use more than one power at a time. Good thing, too. Just then I heard the scream from below.
I looked down onto the street. One: a old woman screaming. Two: a guy running away with what looked to be something of the Prada collection grasped in his grubby paws. One plus one equals me getting to wail on some punk's ass. Here's hoping that instincts will take over.
I swallowed hard and pushed myself off the building. Damn this kid is fast. He got about two blocks away before I could get my fingers around his collar. I yanked him back hard onto his ass then landed right in front of him. Oh, he was not happy to see me.
"Shit, man. Get out of my way, bitch!" He pulled a knife from his pocket and scrambled to his feet.
OK, time this just right. The darkness shot out from my fingertips and surrounded his head. He lunged wildly with the blade. I phased and he slashed right through me. His momentum took him around to my left. Solidifying, I placed a swift kick right into his gut, knocking the air from him. He doubled over as I spun another kick right at his hand. The knife was gone now. I pulled the darkfield back into myself and looked him right into his eyes.
"What the fuck are you?" he wheezed.
"Call me Vesper. Good night." My fist pulled back and I snapped one off right between his eyes. Ouch. Blood rushed out from his nose. Oops. I had meant to just knock him out, not break his face. He slumped onto the pavement. Damn, that felt good. Yea, me!
Then I heard the applause. I looked around to see that quite a large crowd had circled us. Oh, geez. How long had they been there? I picked up the thug by his jacket in one hand and the purse and knife in the other. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! I'm here all week. Please remember to tip your waiters and waitresses!"
I willed myself into the air. Damn, this guy is heavy. It was taking a whole lot of my energy just to head back the couple of blocks where the lady was still standing with a couple of New York's finest.
"I believe this belongs to you." I dropped the guy and knife into a heap at the officer's feet and handed the purse back to the woman. She opened her mouth several times but nothing came out. Then she opened the bag to check its contents. New Yorker rule number one: don't trust.
"You're welcome."
I launched myself back into the air, much to the protests of the cops. As I flew away they were still shouting something about taking a statement.
I wanted to go home, but after flying around a bit, I realized that I didn't recognize anything from up here. How does Superman do this? I landed in an alley. Pulling down the mask, I stepped out into the street. No sense in drawing too much attention to myself, I think. Though this outfit does look like I was just now coming home from an after hours club. I found the street sign and discovered I was just a block away from the apartment. I walked the last bit and was just about to go into the front door when I realized there is no way the doorman is going to let me in. I didn't look like me at the moment and I don't think I can pass myself off as my own brother.
I scooted into the alley and flew up to my balcony. Persephone was waiting for me there.
"You've got blood on your shirt."
She was right. That punk's blood had splattered across my chest and was covering my hand. No, the blood on my hand was my own. I had split my knuckles open when I hit him. Oh, man. That really started to hurt now that the adrenalin was winding down.
I went into the kitchen and ran water over my hand, washing the stickiness away.
"So I take it everything went well?"
My mouth went into overdrive as I replayed the events of the morning to her. She nodded her head.
"So now you understand about the instinct. Continue to trust it."
"Perse? Uh... How long will I stay like this?"
"Until you dial yourself out of it."
The dial! I had forgotten all about it. Where was it?
"Open your hand and think about it."
I brought my hand up and concentrated. The dial shimmered into existence in my palm.
"Now, dial O R E H."
I did and there was that flash of light again. When I could see, I was back to being me again. My clothes from this morning were back. The pain in my hand was gone and the knuckles were healed. The dial had disappeared again. I concentrated and it reappeared. Then willed it away and it was gone.
"Tyler, sit down. We need to talk about your new situation."
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End of Prologue
Author: Shadow Kyle
Archive: Yes, ask first please. kyle.scott@mindspring.com
Warnings: Adult topics and language, M/M slash themes, gender identity.
Rating: R. The NC-17 version can be viewed at my website.
Universe notes: I have taken liberties with the H-Dial for this story, but the DCU history of it remains true for the most part. The story begins in 2012. Tyler Lane is the adult son of Lucy Lane, Lois Kent's sister. Lucy Lane is a single mother in this universe. His father is Ron Troupe.
Disclaimer: Tyler Lane and Persephone are mine. Jamie Lynn Spears is her own person. "Dance Of The Vampires" was a musical produced in 2002. All other characters belong to the DCU of DC Comics. I'm just taking them out for a test drive.
=========================
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ... *SMACK*!
"...damn."
My name is Tyler Lane. And I'm in a world of ouch. A lot of it. My eyes opened and the evil red light glared back at me. The pain was there again. Unable to keep them open, I closed my eyes and succumbed to the blissful cloud that had kept me enshrouded for the past few hours.
How long had I been like this? How much longer could I hold out? What is that awful weight on my chest?
I struggle to lift my eyelids again. Through my lashes I could make out two glowing eyes peering at me intently. Like I was a steak. With mashed potatoes on the side. The eyes were surrounded by a black mask that accentuated the desperation (and... annoyance?) that glowed from within.
They never blinked once.
Not. Once.
The lids lowered just so and moved closer to my face. The pressure on my chest became more intense the closer the face got. I felt slight warmth, then a rough tongue flicked out between tiny sharp fangs.
And it licked me.
...ewww, cat breath!
"Persephone! Phew, I think it's time to brush your teeth again."
I cradled my Siamese in my arms as I sat up, nuzzling her forehead to mine. "OK, Perse. I'm getting up."
I reached out and turned off the evil alarm clock and groggily took stock of the situation.
It's Monday morning. 5:30am. Last night I had gone to my favorite bar in Chelsea for much longer than normal. That explains why I didn't want to wake up. I slept with my contact lenses in again. That accounts for the excruciating pain in my eyes. My cat wants food. Well, that's a given regardless of any situation.
Slipping out of the sheets, my feet found the floor and I shuffled my way into the kitchen, Perse padding beside me. I opened a top-most cupboard and perused the many epicurean delights that would tantalize my cat's taste buds.
"Which one this morning, hmmm?" Perse couldn't care less. I don't blame her. These contents of these tins all look the same and tend to smell as bad as they look. "Salmon Supreme it is!"
I opened the can and unceremoniously emptied the contents into her dish. I retrieve her bottle of spring water from the counter and filled her water bowl. I can still hear my aunt Lois' disbelief that my cat drinks only bottled water. I make no apologies. The water from the tap tastes awful, like it's right out of the Hudson. If I won't drink it, I won't force my fuzzy-baby to drink it either.
I set the coffee maker to begin my morning brew while I get myself ready for the shower. Stumbling into the bathroom and peering into the bathroom mirror, I squeezed the offending lenses out of my sore eyes. The world went blurry briefly before coming back into sharp focus when I put on my glasses.
Hmmmm. Black hair with that one gray stripe at the left temple. Check. Green irises. Check. Stubble on face. Check. Small scar from rollerblade mishap below pouty lips. Check.
Pouty lips? God, I could be so vain! But, yes, pouty lips nonetheless. Who am I to argue with nature?
A quick shave later, I was immersed in a shower that ended much too soon for my taste. I dry off and make a mental note that the towels need to be washed. Then quickly to the closet and pick out clothes for the day.
Hmmm. For today: tan slacks and a mock turtle neck. Add the t-shirt (no tag, who knew that Michael Jordan could be so persuasive a decade later) boxers, belt socks and sneakers and I'm all set. I dress quickly and check the clock. 6:10am. Still enough time to grab a bagel at Hot and Crusty's on the way to the subway. Wallet.
Where's my wallet?!? It's not on the dresser like normal. Like a madman, I tear through the pockets from last night's clothes and come up empty handed. I'm gripped with the sudden fear that some bastard could possible be going on a shopping spree on the internet with my recently paid off charge card!
I work my way through the bedroom and bathroom, looking into places that the wallet couldn't possibly be.
What was it mom always said? "If you ever lose something, look under the passenger seat in the car. Eight out of ten, it will be there."
Yeah, right, Mom. I don't own a car. No one of my means with any sense owns a car in New York City!
"If not there, it's in the kitchen."
I upturn cushions in the living room and when I'm just about to check under the chair I spot it on the counter in the kitchen.
Relief! It washes over me as I pick it up and check to make sure everything is still there. Of course it is, but growing up in New York this becomes second nature when you are separated from your wallet for any length of time. New Yorkers are many things, but inherently trusting we aren't.
I slip my wallet into my front pocket and that's when I see it: a gold timepiece was sitting on the counter next to where I found my wallet. I didn't own a watch. Call it vanity, but they tend to leave tan line marks on your wrist. I don't actively seek a tan, but I do prefer to have one skin tone. Where the hell did this come from?
I picked it up and touched the face of the clock... and it faded from view leaving a dial with the letters H E R O.
"What the..."
The dial let off a faint glow, each letter pulsing with illumination.
"... !?!"
Where the hell did this come from?
"Was it... ?"
That little girl! She couldn't have been more than eleven, running out of the alley last night. She bumped into me and we both ended up in a pile on the sidewalk. Scrambling out from a tangle of limbs, she took off down the street and disappeared before I could say anything. Shortly after a blonde girl in a pink and white jumpsuit came flying around the corner as well. Not *flying* as in moving really fast. But *flying* as in "Look! Up in the sky!"
"Lori!" she yelled, followed by some language that I couldn't decipher. It wasn't Spanish or French, that's for sure. I got that much from my high school language courses. She flew around the corner in hot pursuit of the girl.
I heard the young girl's voice down the way, "FRAG OFF, IMRA! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!!"
Another lesson learned as a New Yorker: stay out of the metahuman's way. Especially if you do not recognize them. We normal folk tend to become casualties with rampaging metas knocking each other about on the streets. Heeding that warning I ran down the steps into the subway and boarded the uptown 9. Thank god for the express at this late hour. I was blocks away before some super-powered badass decided to level the Village.
That girl must have slipped this into my pocket. I moved to sit down and with a thump my ass met with the kitchen floor. Oh, that's gonna bruise.
Perse stepped up into my lap and settled down there. I contemplated the watch again. The face was back, but when I touched it faded away revealing the dial. Maybe it was some sort of pager or something. I dialed the "H"....
OK, another New Yorker lesson. We can sometimes be incredibly dense. Sure, we don't trust anyone and we get out the way of flying people. But, we're also the first ones to say "OOOOOOO! What does THIS button do?"
Starting at the 12:00 position I dialed the H then worked my way around clockwise. And waited. No beeps, no buzzes. No little voice saying "hello?" Nothing. Except a blinding flash of light!
"ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod Hail Mary full of gra..." What the hell am I doing!?! I'm not Catholic!
The light was gone as quickly as it came and the watch face was back on the dial.
"About time you figured that thing out."
The voice came out of nowhere. I got up quickly, dumping Perse on the ground with a quick splat. Looking around the kitchen and living room, I saw that I was still alone. I tripped over my boot clad feet and stumbled out of the kitchen.
What a minute. I put on my sneakers this morning. I looked down and saw my own reflection in the glossy shine of the black leather boots. But, the reflection didn't quite ring true.
I ran to the bathroom mirror and just about passed out. It was me but it wasn't me. Ok, it would have been me if I were going out for Halloween. Long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. A tight white shirt covered by a black vest. Tight black leather pants. And a black scarf covering my nose and the lower half of my face. I slowly pulled down the scarf to reveal a full set of pouty lips. Thank god they were still there!
"Ah, vanity. Thy name is Tyler."
There's that voice again. Female. Deep and almost purring. I snuck my head into the hallway and there was Perse looking up at me.
"...Persephone?"
"Who else would it be, love?"
Then the world went black.
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"Pull back. Pull back. Pull back the darkness:" The voice kept resonating. "Pull back...ahhh, that's my love."
The darkfield that had instinctively appeared slowly drew itself within me.
I opened my eyes and there was my cat, Persephone, nuzzling me.
"...Perse?"
"It's all right, love. Just relax." she said. A low, deep vibration found me. It worked its way down from my hair, head, shoulders, arms, fingers, back, chest, stomach, ass, cock, balls, thighs, calves, soles, ankles, soles, and toes. The leather was suddenly unbearably tight. Too tight. And wet. I felt the wet against the leather.
"Relax, love. Just feel it."
The utter eroticism consumed me. I felt fire, snow, wind, rain, sand, sea, air, vacuum, indifference, enrapture, jealousy, love, rage, passion. All that mattered was feeling the warmth and throbbing. My arms and legs were so heavy. I couldn't concentrate.
"Oh, god... oh, god.... OH GOD!!!!"
A low purr filled my ears, coaxing me back from the upper stratosphere. "Love, come back to me now."
I opened my eyes and my cat was sitting upon my chest. My eyes were wide and racing.
"... I don't understand," I said.
"Love, it was destined. You shall be the hope," the voice rang in my head.
"...hope?" I asked.
"Yes, love. Our hope."
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I called in sick today. After five years with the Weisman Theatricals, I've never once taken a sick day. Understandably, Rivka was worried.
"What's wrong? You sound different."
"It's just the flu, Rivka. My voice is very sore right now. I don't know how long this will be. Will Sheri or someone else be able to cover for me for a day or so?"
"Of course! Take care of yourself. And see a doctor. You never know where these things can end up. We don't need you getting pneumonia with the 'Vampires' revival coming."
'Dance of the Vampires'. Oy! It was such a colossal flop when it debuted in 2002. Who would have thought that the biggest flop in Broadway history would be a major revival ten years later. Even 'Carrie' never had that distinction, regardless of how often it was rumored for a Lost Musicals production at Carnegie Hall.
"I will. I'll give you a call tonight to let you know how I'm doing."
"OK. Take care of yourself and drink lots of water! That's very important!"
"Yes, mother!"
"Don't sass me, missy! I know where you live!"
I hated lying to Rivka. She was one of the most honest people in show business. No games. No politics. Just doing a job which she loved to no end. Come to think of it, what was she doing in show business? She should be a nun or something. Do they have Jewish nuns? Sister Mary Rivka Stromberg. Hmmmm. No. It just didn't sound right. Plus, I can't see her not visiting Macy's on a regular basis. If it weren't for her, I'd be just another queer without any fashion sense. Yes, oddly enough, many of us are born without the Versache gene.
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I sat on my sofa while my cat paced back and forth across the table. Too weird. Mainly because I never would have allowed her on that table before. Before that watch began to change my life.
"There is so much you have to learn. And you are so different from the others."
"What are you talking about?!?" I said. "What the hell is going on? And what happened this morning? I'm not used to autoeroticism before I go to work! And why the hell are you talking to me anyway?!? Cats aren't supposed to chat! They eat, drink, shit in their litter box and sleep cuddled up at the foot of the bed! And what is up with the darkness and me being blonde and wearing these clothes?!?"
"Love..."
"What?!?"
"*Shush!*"
The blast hit me with such intensity that everything went white for a moment.
"There is much you have to learn. Much I must tell you. Think. What is your name?"
"...Tyler," I answered.
"Yes, but think again. What is your name?"
I thought. My pet is playing with my head. This whole thing is some sort of hallucination. I must have hit my head earlier in the kitchen. My name is...
"Vesper," I whisper. "My name is Vesper."
"Yes, Vesper. And what can you do?"
My mind reached. "The dark. I can make the darkness occur."
"Yes, love."
"And I can fly. And pass through things like a ghost."
The clarity of what I could do suddenly do sobered me. "Perse, what is going on?"
"You are the latest in the possession of the "H" dial. A mystical device that can transform the merest of man into a superhero."
"Why can you talk to me now?"
"I talked to you before. You couldn't understand me, though."
"Ooookay. ...so what about the... you know?"
"Tyler, I..." The voice hesitated for a brief moment. Tension suddenly filled the room as my cat squared her shoulders. "... I have ...loved you for many months now. I knew you would be the one to save me. I always knew. But shortly after you rescued me I came to realize that what I felt for you was... love."
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I thought back to when I first saw Persephone. I had visited the animal shelter with Rivka a few months ago. She was intent on finding a terrier. I don't care for dogs myself. They're too needy. I had no intention of finding a pet that would become my end-all be-all in life. I cold hardly commit to a boyfriend, much less something with fur and fangs.
While Rivka was browsing the dog pens, I was in the room with the cats. The cages lined the walls on the small room. I looked at a set of kittens that couldn't have been more that four weeks old. The attendant told me that they were being bottle fed since they were so young. Next to them was this adult Siamese. The attendant said that this cat had been found in an alley and this was her last week before she was put down.
Put down. I looked at the big blue eyes in the back of the cage. The cat stood and walked to the front of her confinement. She reached her dark paw between the wires and said, "Mreow."
Oh, she had me at "Mreow."
Rivka went home empty handed, while I had a new friend firmly in tow in a new pet carrier.
"Rivka, remind me again why we went to the animal shelter."
"Silly! We went to find me something from the Jack Russell collection."
"Then why am I bringing a cat home with me?"
"Because you finally heard the calling of the pussy?"
We laughed big and loud over that one!
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"You are not the first to possess of the dials. Before you there have been others, most notably teenagers. But while they did the piece justice, they were not the saviors. "
"Saviors? What do you me..."
"Not now, love," she responded. I flinched.
Love. Not only was I not ready for a relationship. My cat was now in love with me. And she was a she!
"The first three to have the dials were quite young. They did not possess the prowess or heart to command such a powerful responsibility. Though the first became quite formidable in its use. He became the Wizard, and it was to him that I was bound. There is a forth man, much like yourself, who now has another dial. He continues to this day to use its magicks."
"What about that little girl, Lori?"
"Ah. She is quite the enigma. There is much to be writ of her future. For even though she was born before you, her past will be written long after you are gone. And she is destined for greatness. But, you must always remember that with destiny come great changes. No matter how powerful you may become, things will rarely turn out the way you expect them."
"You're pretty wise for a cat."
"I haven't always been a cat."
And then it hit me. Perse lowered her head and her eyes bore straight into my mind. Her memories all at once. Darkness. Light. Sand. Celebrations. War. Pyramids. Wrappings. Tombs. Darkness. Light. Rebirth. Home. Love. War. Peace. Castles. Slavery. Royalty. Death. Rebirth. Swords. Duels. Arrows. Knights. Maidens. Battles. Death. Rebirth. Light. Dark. New. Old. Ships. Walking. Running. Thieving. Stalking. Hunting. Loving. Despising. Over and over. She had been so many things. From an Egyptian prince, to a rabbit gracing the lawns of the Norwegian palace, to a horse consumed by the fires of Mount Vesuvius, to a Nubian handmaiden bound for the new world as a slave, to a model for wearing a dress made out of popcorn balls walking down a fashion show runway, to a familiar to a wizard. How torturing it must be to find you can never have rest. Never have peace from your lives. Destined to live again, and again, and again.
Tears were flowing down my cheeks. I was not crying great heaving sobs, but yet the tears flowed freely from my eyes. This creature that I had called my pet had lived more, loved more, suffered more, laughed more than any of us would even know. And now she was here. Yet again fulfilling her own eternal destiny as she must until she is finally put to rest. She seemed so tired.
That is so odd, considering that she seemed to sleep most of the day.
"I don't sleep most of the day. When you aren't here I watch a lot of CNN and Lifetime."
I laughed wholeheartedly. At least my "pet" was up on current events and 'Cybil'.
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"Uh... Perse, are you sure about this?"
We are standing on the small balcony and I'm looking twenty-two stories down into an alleyway covered in very hard pavement. I can cast darkness and become immaterial, but those two things I can do without jumping to my death.
"Vesper, trust me on this. Trust yourself with the powers. You've already blacked out your entire apartment and walked through every wall in the place. This is the final step."
*Yeah, but the stepping doesn't so much scare me as the splat potential.*
"Listen to what you know," she said.
*Great. Now my cat has gone all "Kung Fu" on me.*
"I heard that. Don't make me kick your ass, little grasshopper! Now jump off the damned balcony and FLY!" I felt a push on my back and tumbled over the railing. I closed my eyes and waited for the pavement to make me into Tyler-flavored pudding.
"Vesper, open your eyes."
"No."
"Oh, Ra!" she exclaimed. "None of the others were this difficult. Even those two kids in high school had a bigger grasp on how to use their powers. Granted, the girl went insane... But no one ever doubted the powers. They just *did* what they knew they could!"
My eyes slowly opened. "The girl went insane? When were you going to tell me this? Is that what I have to look forward to?"
"Vesper?"
"What?"
"You're flying."
She was right. I looked down and saw that the pavement was still where it had been earlier. I looked back up into Perse's blue eyes. And grinned the biggest, goofiest, goddamn grin that my lips could muster.
"Go."
I took off straight up into the air above my building. Oh, this was so freakin' COOL! Ok, you're a gay man, not too bad looking, dressed up like rough trade, full pouty lips and you just discovered that you can fly. What are you going to do?
I'm going to Broadway!
I pulled the mask up and took off downtown, headed for Times Square. The skyline raced towards me. I felt a slight panic thinking I might not be able to stop. How do I do that? It's not like there are any brakes. What was that Bugs Bunny gag? Air brakes. Heh. I snickered to myself at the silly joke and looked up just in time to see the billboard rushing towards my face.
"Oh, shi...." I phased right through and came to a stop just on the other side. "Whoa." Well, now I know that I can use more than one power at a time. Good thing, too. Just then I heard the scream from below.
I looked down onto the street. One: a old woman screaming. Two: a guy running away with what looked to be something of the Prada collection grasped in his grubby paws. One plus one equals me getting to wail on some punk's ass. Here's hoping that instincts will take over.
I swallowed hard and pushed myself off the building. Damn this kid is fast. He got about two blocks away before I could get my fingers around his collar. I yanked him back hard onto his ass then landed right in front of him. Oh, he was not happy to see me.
"Shit, man. Get out of my way, bitch!" He pulled a knife from his pocket and scrambled to his feet.
OK, time this just right. The darkness shot out from my fingertips and surrounded his head. He lunged wildly with the blade. I phased and he slashed right through me. His momentum took him around to my left. Solidifying, I placed a swift kick right into his gut, knocking the air from him. He doubled over as I spun another kick right at his hand. The knife was gone now. I pulled the darkfield back into myself and looked him right into his eyes.
"What the fuck are you?" he wheezed.
"Call me Vesper. Good night." My fist pulled back and I snapped one off right between his eyes. Ouch. Blood rushed out from his nose. Oops. I had meant to just knock him out, not break his face. He slumped onto the pavement. Damn, that felt good. Yea, me!
Then I heard the applause. I looked around to see that quite a large crowd had circled us. Oh, geez. How long had they been there? I picked up the thug by his jacket in one hand and the purse and knife in the other. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! I'm here all week. Please remember to tip your waiters and waitresses!"
I willed myself into the air. Damn, this guy is heavy. It was taking a whole lot of my energy just to head back the couple of blocks where the lady was still standing with a couple of New York's finest.
"I believe this belongs to you." I dropped the guy and knife into a heap at the officer's feet and handed the purse back to the woman. She opened her mouth several times but nothing came out. Then she opened the bag to check its contents. New Yorker rule number one: don't trust.
"You're welcome."
I launched myself back into the air, much to the protests of the cops. As I flew away they were still shouting something about taking a statement.
I wanted to go home, but after flying around a bit, I realized that I didn't recognize anything from up here. How does Superman do this? I landed in an alley. Pulling down the mask, I stepped out into the street. No sense in drawing too much attention to myself, I think. Though this outfit does look like I was just now coming home from an after hours club. I found the street sign and discovered I was just a block away from the apartment. I walked the last bit and was just about to go into the front door when I realized there is no way the doorman is going to let me in. I didn't look like me at the moment and I don't think I can pass myself off as my own brother.
I scooted into the alley and flew up to my balcony. Persephone was waiting for me there.
"You've got blood on your shirt."
She was right. That punk's blood had splattered across my chest and was covering my hand. No, the blood on my hand was my own. I had split my knuckles open when I hit him. Oh, man. That really started to hurt now that the adrenalin was winding down.
I went into the kitchen and ran water over my hand, washing the stickiness away.
"So I take it everything went well?"
My mouth went into overdrive as I replayed the events of the morning to her. She nodded her head.
"So now you understand about the instinct. Continue to trust it."
"Perse? Uh... How long will I stay like this?"
"Until you dial yourself out of it."
The dial! I had forgotten all about it. Where was it?
"Open your hand and think about it."
I brought my hand up and concentrated. The dial shimmered into existence in my palm.
"Now, dial O R E H."
I did and there was that flash of light again. When I could see, I was back to being me again. My clothes from this morning were back. The pain in my hand was gone and the knuckles were healed. The dial had disappeared again. I concentrated and it reappeared. Then willed it away and it was gone.
"Tyler, sit down. We need to talk about your new situation."
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End of Prologue