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Summary: Triplicate Girl looks back on her childhood, and how it has affected her today. –cartoonverse, TGxBB hints. Takes place during first season, more specifically during "Chain of Command".

Please note that I change Trip's 'species' to something called a 'triplisapien'. In the comics, she is called a Carggite, because she's from the planet Cargg. I take this as the same way humans do—we're from earth, called Earthlings, but we are homosapiens. Hope this doesn't confuse you too much.

This also is based on what I learned from Wikipedia, and from the first season. It starts out at Trip's birth, and goes to the episode "Chain of Command", in which it brings Bouncing Boy into the equation as well.

One more thing: Seeing as how TG is three people, I think her mind would work differently. Thus, please be prepared for bad grammar. I interchange 'I', 'me', 'us', and 'we'. Just a warning.

Anyway, have fun reading! And please review!

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Note: i DoN't OwN lOsH. i don't own losh. I DON'T OWN LOSH! I DONt oWn LOsH. I... (ect.) (it's like a mantra, right?)

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Mind, Body, Spirit

"The three parts of us are like the three parts of our soul. Mind, Body, and Spirit."

White is Mind. Clearly. White has always had the strongest of our personalities; she dominates when we are "me". Together. We just hide behind her, little slits of color in her skirt or streaks in her hair. She is the dominating personality, the one who controls all of us, mostly.

It's not because she' s controlling. Yes, she likes to have her way, but who doesn't? No, she dominates simply because she's confident. Confident of herself, of what she knows, of what she thinks, of what she does. She will stick out of the crowd, fight the majority—she does, even with us, because on occasion she will strike out from what Purple and Orange think, expressing her own ideas instead. Her own preference. Her own tastes.

White knows where she stands on everything. It's funny that way; she sees everything in "black and white." She knows, oh, she just KNOWS, that she is herself. She knows that she is a superhero. She knows that we are, we MUST, remain in the Legion. She was the one who wanted to join in the first place.

And White is also sensible. She views everything with a calm eye, even if she is prone to girlish giddiness at times. She can give a fair report, she can see straight forward, and know something for what it is.

Now Purple! Purple is a different story. Purple is, and will always be, "Body". She's the sportsman side of the three of us, the most athletically gifted. The best at sparring. The best at kinesthetic thought. "sporty". She's more impulsive than the rest of me. Kinda like Lightning Lad in that sense—she flits from one good idea to another, one mood to the next. One minute she is happy and giggling, the next she can act the part of the "spoiled, put-out princess".

She is like her color. Just like "white" is straightforward and pure, Purple lives up to her color, "purple", as the royal. She also has the most temper of all of us, though what little temper we have is laughable to say the least. But she can act like a princess; one that wants everything, one that gives everything.

Purple also stands for intuition, for those that cannot be put into words or thoughts or emotions, but actions. She also tends to have "crushes" more than the other parts of me, because she is like this. She teases, she leads on, she fawns over, others. But they are not necessarily loves, just CRUSHES. Because Purple is not like White; decisive, knowing, sure. Purple acts erratically because she simply doesn't know what she wants, and yet is ready to pursue it. An edgeless puzzle, a trophy without a shelf, a flockless bird. This is Purple.

And Orange. She doesn't know what she wants, either. Orange is quiet, timid, introverted. The "Shy, intelligent" type, really. Although being the smartest of us three, she rarely is sure of herself, constantly adding "I think" or "Maybe" to her sentences. Sometimes, she doesn't say anything at all. She also fumbles at activities a bit, looking to the other two of us for guidance, because she's "Not sure she's doing this right."

Unsure in mind, and in body, the only thing left for her is "Spirit". Orange is spirit, emotion, soul. She is the purest of all our emotions; though she cannot feel sure of herself most of the time, she is the quickest to love, to care. She is the kindness that sits in the back of our minds, the part that overwhelms the other two parts of me. It's those rare emotions that trigger her presence, for she would otherwise be rarely felt.

Orange is the one who feels the intense kindness and caring for the team, if someone gets hurt. It overflows to the rest of us, and even as a whole, we are caring. Kind. We help in the infirmary. We help fighting friends to get back together. We listen when someone else has a problem. She understands people.

Orange is the one who feels the intense worry when someone is hurt. It is out of this that we feel the pure terror of seeing someone else's arm broken, or their face twisted in pain.

Orange is the first to feel excitement, though she tones it down. That's more Purple's domain; excitement. Impulsiveness. But she feels it nonetheless—this warm, bubbly joy that erupts when they're scheduled for a board game or when she sees a kitten.

And, of course, Orange is the one who feels intense hate.

Yes. Hate.

Not the "I'm going to kill you!" hate, not ever. She's far to reserved for that. But she hates, all the same. She will always find a small sliver of hate to conjure when facing an enemy, or an even bigger one to help face our family. Just that quiet, I'm-going-to-stare-at-you-until-you-burn-to-a-crisp hate. The hate that says, "Well, you're there, but you won't be much longer." The quiet hate that drills itself into the heart and nestles itself there, unmoving and ungrowing. The hate that is just there.

We learned to hate a long time ago.

We learned it from our mothers, and our fathers, and our teachers and doctors. We learned it from everybody around us. On our home planet, Cargg, everyone is born with three separate selves. But there, everyone's three duplicates tend to act the same. Having each copy act different from the rest showed signs of a serious disorder.

Of course, our friends and family knew right away that we were different. When we were born, Orange and Purple cried, and White did not. It just went downhill from there.

Our family, with an eye towards the public, felt embarrassed by my 'flaw'. As with most children with our disorder, we were subject to strict, rigorous training. "Eat the same things," they would tell us. "Do the same things. Like the same things. Say the same things. Understand?"

And like naïve children, we tried. We played with our three identical dolls, read the same books, and Orange pretended to 'love' someone that purple and white liked. White tried to hide her motion sickness that the other two didn't seem to have, and Purple forced herself to sit in the same place for hours on end, though she would rather be out and playing.

But our differences shown through. Even though our parents and relatives would scold us, even hit us for being different, we couldn't help it. White was just too confident, and Purple too extroverted, and Orange too shy.

This is all just in perspective, however. Not one of us acts too different than the other. We were raised like that. White has a lot of physical activity to her, and intelligence, from Purple and Orange respectively. Purple feels straight emotion and is able to calm herself down, thanks to the influence of the other two. And Orange is not so co-dependant that she cannot act, not so shy that she cannot speak. In fact, when we are together, we often end up mirroring each other's personality; Purple becomes more caring, White becomes anxious and gung-ho, and Orange becomes firm when dealing with others. It's our little bits that set us apart from one another, that makes the ONE different from the TWO. But we are all still part of the same person, the same embodiment. Thus we are not so different, after all.

But our family did not care. They saw three different girls, and soon their looks of annoyance turned to ones of hate. 'why can't they be the same?' they would rant, disgusted they had a daughters like us. 'why must they act out?'

We were sent to a reform school, sort of a boot camp like place. The people there would punish us for not acting correctly, and we were punished a lot. After our eleventh birthday, we became frustrated, and we fled. Orange timidly devised a plan of escape and Purple stole the keys from one of the guard's three selves. We hopped on an interplanetary shuttle and, as fate would have it, ended up on earth.

We ran into the billionaire named R.J. Brande. Literally RAN into him. We were being chased, after all, by the people on our home planet. We'd escaped the reform school but not our people, and what could we do? An eleven-year-old triplisapien in a strange new world, we knew nothing about travelling or living in the outside world.

Thankfully, Brande knew what to do. He was a kind loving soul, and took pity on us, hiding me and banishing our pursuers. He scolded them, saying it was absurd to make three girls act as one, and that their cultures in that respect were barbaric. He said if they ever laid a finger on me again, he'd make them sorry.

They left. Thank the gods, they left. We haven't seen them since, and haven't hardly wanted to.

RJ Brande took care of me afterwards. It turned out he was meeting with other kids, just barely older than us: Garth and Imra and Rokk. They had superpowers, and formed some sort of detective club or something, which they hadn't named yet. We met them when Brande did, and the three of them seemed to think I was also super powered, which was odd—making three of yourself isn't odd at all.

They told me, it was in the rest of the universe. They insisted that my race, the triplasapiens, were one of the few that could create multiple people from one person. Thus, we were a superhero too. All of us was a superhero.

Garth said our grammar was horrible.

Imra, who went by the nickname 'Saturn girl' by then, confessed that her powers were unique to her home moon/planet too, the moon called Titan. Its people were ALL telepaths, she said, though her family was rich, powerful, and she was one of the strongest telepaths on her planet, considering her age.

Rokk, too, said his powers weren't unique. Coming from a metallic planet, his magnetism powers were common to his people. He confessed later that he was far stronger than the others in his planet, which was part of the reason why he had to leave his home: people were biased against a kid who was better than them. His home planet, struck by a bad economy, had a certain bias against him; he had strong magnetic powers, but no one would hire a kid. He wanted to start over fresh. Kinda like us, in that respect.

When we asked Garth if his powers were from his planet, he laughed. Then he got serious for a minute, seeming almost sad as he confessed that only he and his brother had the power of lightning to their disposal. Then he perked up, changing the subject almost—he used his powers to zap Rokk and the two boys began chasing one another around RJ Brande's living room.

Imra and us talked while the boys were rowdy. Purple wanted to join them, but strict rigorous training to conform was still fresh on our minds, and we timidly stayed with the blonde. That is, until she peeked into our minds and told Purple to go have fun. We stared at her.

That was the first time we'd ever realized that we could be ourselves. Accidentally, Imra tapped into our memories, and she blushed and apologized for seeing our past. She said she felt sorry for us, for our upbringing, but things were different here. Kids were supposed to have fun.

We admitted we didn't understand. We didn't. at home, kids had fun too; our brothers and sisters had fun, but we did not because we were always watched over. The adults prodded us and forced us to act like one another at al times, which wasn't fun at all. Here, everyone seemed to act different, and didn't frown upon seeing us. It was odd, and it was confusing.

Finally, Purple got fed up and decided to stop thinking, going after the boys to play rough.

That was the first time we had fun, the first time we met our friends. The first time we HAD friends. After some discussion, Imra talked Brande into letting us stay with them at their clubhouse, which would later be named their "HQ". She guided the three of us and taught us about living in the outside world, and about cultures and differences and everything. We didn't feel so alone any more. These three kids accepted us for who we were, and we felt at home.

We helped them out, too. I wasn't much of a people person, but we did know something they didn't: how to spar. Apparently, they were some sort of superhero group, so they did a lot of fighting, but they often relied on their powers. That was all good and well, but sometimes you need to have a battle tactic. This is where I came in.

Purple, Orange and White were well practiced in the ways of Tri-jujitsu. It was the art of sparring using three people, in fighting and such. We'd learned it as an act of discipline at our home planet; if we could fight as one, we could be as one, right?

Due to this, we were able to help them. We taught them to spar, with just one person or with the three of them working together. We taught them kicks and punches and moves, and how to work in tandem when fighting. And, once they got the basic principle of that, we were able to help keep them in shape. We sparred with them almost every day for a month, watching them get better.

At the end, they asked if we wanted to be on their team.

We'd never been so happy before, or so proud. WE could make a difference, WE were important to the team! Even though it was difficult to answer, we were indeed proud that they'd asked. It meant a lot to us.

Their invitation was something to think about. I didn't know what I wanted—the three of us would argue about it for three days straight. We wanted to make a difference, while we also were worried about getting in our friends' way. Orange was shy and didn't know if she'd be able to hurt the bad guys, or anybody, if she became a superhero. Purple wasn't sure she was cut out to be a member, either. But White insisted. We had a chance to make a difference, she said, and we had a chance to make things right. We could help people like us, who were oppressed, and we could be with our friends. We had to join, because it was the right thing to do. And she was the decisive one. Slowly, her stubbornness brought us around, and we joined the team.

And we've never regretted my decision. Together, we solved cases and fought against injustice in the universe. After a month or so, Garth finally came up with the name for our detective/superhero club: The Legion of Superheroes. It was much better than anything Cosmic Boy came up with… that boy could lift a spaceship into the air, sure, but he wasn't so hot with names.

After our decision, word spread quickly about us. We gained more members as our publicity grew, and we saw things we never thought I'd see. A superhero boy named Matter-eater lad joined after saving Imra (now officially called 'Saturn Girl')'s life. We met a giant named colossal boy who could shrink, who wanted to join because of the injustice he saw in the world, and he wanted to help fix it and lead the 31st century into an era of peace.

We met a girl named Tinya, who was trying to escape her mother's shadow—she saw the slow way that politics worked to change things, and wanted to change things faster. We also met a very young Coluan boy who called himself Brainiac 5. He claimed he wished to atone for his ancestor's mistakes, offering to aid the Legion by building them space cruisers, a main-base high-tech computer, and most notably, the flight rings. He later was offered membership into the Legion, which he accepted after much debate.

What we remember most, though, is Chuck Taine. A tinker-genius from earth, he'd developed superhuman abilities, joining the Legion on the ability to 'bounce'. His abilities weren't spectacular, just like ours, and he relied on battle tactics and fighting smarts to win fights. He was a great asset to the team, joining after Brainiac 5, as his role was to help the Coluan child fix up the now high-tech machines they had around the area. He was also the group's strategist, and commonly helped command the team when Cosmic Boy had to take leave, or needed a break.

What we liked the most, though, was his sense of humor. He would make puns, make practical jokes, say little quips that brightened the day. Some Legionnaires found him annoying, but we didn't. no one ever told jokes at home. He was very good at keeping the team together and smoothing out situations just by having good humor and disposition.

When Cosmic Boy left the Legion for a time, in order to search across the galaxies for where they could do the most good, it was Chuck that kept things in order. Garth was the 'labeled leader', sure, but more often than not it was Bouncing Boy who kept the team together. We always knew he would be the best leader.

Things started to change. Cosmic Boy had discovered a planet halfway across the universe that needed help, and after consulting RJ Brande, he went ahead and created a second, temporary base there. Some of the Legionnaires—Matter Eater Lad, Colossal Boy, Shrinking Violet—took their place at the second base, doing their best to help out the other side of the galaxy. It was a good plan, really; even with all the warp gates, the Legion couldn't reach into the corners of the Universe unless they were more spread out. So the second base was set, and Legionnaires came and went.

Phantom Girl helped out over there for quite a while. Dream Girl joined the team, and we liked her—more girls was always fun. But she had some sort of disagreement with Garth, (who now called himself Lightning Lad,) so she traded places with Tinya. Sunboy and Reverso both joined the team, but Reverso quit for family reasons, and Sun Boy was called away on a long mission. All the while, no matter who was at the base or away on a mission, Bouncing Boy seemed to connect with all of them and lighten their spirits.

He seemed like the perfect person to lead, to join the team as a whole. That's why, when we were called away to protect Garth's home planet, and Cosmic Boy showed up, we felt out of place. He was the leader, sure, but something was off. Orange, in the back of our mind, timidly suggested it might be because he didn't unite the team. In fact, with his absence, Cosmic Boy didn't quite seem the leader any more, not so much as Garth and Chuck did. His reappearance sparked debate and argument, until the team wasn't working as a whole… until the team wasn't working at all. As a triplisapien, it's hard to watch people not get along; we understand the importance of unity.

He and us watch the scene from above. As our powers wouldn't be useful for this mission, we volunteered to stay behind and help from the ship. We see him now, muttering to himself as he monitors the storm. He growls about 'band aid solutions' and 'damage control', and 'not thinking ahead', about how their tactics aren't going to solve the problem. How the Legion is not working together.

We—well, Orange—finally urges him to make a call, to tell the other Legionnaires what they're doing wrong. "Why are you telling me?" she asks. "Tell THEM."

And, he doesn't take to our idea at first—he's much too reserved to speak out like that. And seeing him hesitate, we feel connected to him… we feel his uncertainty.

We see us in him, I suppose. We see his strong kindness and intelligence. We see his strong abilities and knowing demeanor. We see his strong decisiveness. But it's being held down. Maybe because how he appears to others—overweight, shorter than most, a jokester?—that they do not take him seriously.

People here are not so different from people at home. On our own planet. There, they would physically force us to act like one another, to conform. Here, it is more subtle—instead of physical "you must"'s, there are mental forces. Social ones. Forces that hinder one's ability, that make people—people like him and us—conform.

Forces like that are acting now; they are turning his strong decisiveness into unconfidence, his willingness to act into a timid "maybe". They're making him question his knowledge, which he shouldn't—Orange looked at his plan. It'll work. And she should know, being the most intelligent of us!

And yet he does not listen. He hesitates. He knows that the others will not listen to him, because they, they… are stronger in will than him. They will override his authority.

But after a second, he presses the button. He calls in. "Lightning Lad. I think there's a way to predict where the next weather system is coming from. If you knew where it was going to hit, you could fortify the structures first."

But, as predicted, Lightning Lad calls back, denying his information. He tells Bouncing Boy that he's the one on the planet, and there's no way Bouncing Boy can know better about the situation than him—which is clearly wrong. And yet, Bouncing Boy looks down, dejected. And those words come out of his mouth. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

and suddenly, we feel his hurt. Purple notices what's going on, as she leaves Superman's side to join by Bouncing Boy. As he looks away from the communicator, purple is compelled to speak.

"You shouldn't give up so easily," Purple says quietly.

And maybe he hears me. Maybe, because he tries to keep Superman from going into the storm again—telling him that he needs to be careful, and that the storms will be ten times worse now that the core is gone from Winath. But, of course, when Superman denies help and dashes off in a flash, the four of us are left in the dust. And he is worse for wear; frustrated and put down.

"Why doesn't anyone listen to me?" he wonders aloud, bitterly.

After that, we have a hard time getting him to talk. He situates himself in front of the controls, maneuvering the ship to stay out of range of the threatening storms, all while monitoring them. We talk to him, tell him that he just needs to insist the others listen to him. We know, after all; we know that people will not listen if they don't want to, unless you MAKE them listen.

This is where we step in. Put your foot down, we tell him. You know what you're doing and you can see things clearly. Do what you must to keep things together!

Yet, he hesitates. We can tell he is thinking about it, so we push a little harder. We know he is right, we tell him. We know that they will listen to reason, if only you push for your authority.

He should not hesitate so badly, he should not doubt himself. He doubted he could catch Superman when he was falling just minutes ago—and he managed to catch him all the same! If he can do that, we know he can do this. We know he can hold his own, that he can do things if he just trusts himself.

We've seen this, after all. We have been in his position. Running from others, from our own people—knowing that we cannot act the same but not having the guts to refuse their decisions. We didn't trust our ability to know what was best for us, and we let someone else control us instead. R. got us out of that problem, and we learned to trust us. We learned to trust me.

Now he must learn that, too.

We open our mouth to speak, but suddenly Bouncing Boy's face, trained on the data about the storms, twists in horror. "What?" we have to ask, as he scrambles to get up. He makes his way over to the strategy board, bringing the data up on screen. "There's another storm coming and it's going to hit before they can get the power station online," he warns, pointing to the strategy board and looking at us. His eyes are firm, though we can tell he is worried.

We come over to him, to see. He goes on to explain how the storm is likely to break the hydroelectric dam, and its effects could destroy the place where people are in shelter.

And White stares, horrified. "You've got to tell the others," she orders, her voice strong and decisive.

He is infected by her decisiveness, and runs over to the communication system, knowing he is right. "There's another storm coming," he informs the group.

But Cosmic Boy doesn't quite understand. "Thanks Bouncing Boy, but we've got it covered," he says, as though he knows everything will be all right. Even when it won't be. "The Power station's almost back online."

We turn, and White sees his face back in that indecisive frown. She pushes again, knowing that only he can make the difference. "You've gotta make them listen!" she says.

He knows that he must speak. He knows that the others do not get it. He knows—he KNOWS—that if he does not speak, lives will be lost. "It's going to hit NOW." Bouncing Boy insists again, firmly. "The chain reaction it will cause is going straight for the shelter."

And his words seem to make a difference. We hear Cosmic boy mutter something; 'Saturn Girl'. Now it seems they're listening. Garth arrives, and offers to start evacuating the people. Again, it seems that they are not listening, not working as a group.

"There's no time!" Bouncing Boy says, so firmly that the others stop talking. "I'm the only one who's got a clear picture of things. We can use the storms to our advantage and stop this disaster in its tracks, but only if you do what I say." He slams his hand down on the table. "So listen up!"

White jumps slightly, startled at his force, but also pleased by it. Purple elbows orange, as if to say, 'I knew he could do it. I knew it. Right?' and at that moment, we know everything is going to be okay. We could feel it.

And it DID turn out all right. The crisis was averted, the people safe… Because Bouncing Boy was able to pull everyone together and join the parts of the legion that seemed so separate: Lightning Lad's team on the ground, Cosmic Boy's team in the control room, and us in the air. Kind of like bringing the three parts of us together.

Body, Mind, and Spirit. In a way, our people were right; working as one will always make the best of any team, even though its parts are different. It is mildly funny; how the Legion taught us that it is okay to be separate, and we turned around and helped it learn to be unified. And now, thanks to Bouncing Boy's help, the parts of the legion will work together, separate identities as superheroes, and yet still working as one.

And that is something I will cherish forever.

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End

I have no idea how good or bad this is. Please tell me. I think I actually majorly failed this. … :sigh: why is triplicate girl so hard to write?

Anyway. As always, I'm searching for constructive criticism, any crits that you offer will be regarded well by me.

On another note, There's my attempt at a Trip story. She didn't really get a lot of characterization during the show, did she? She had "unnatural alliances" and that was pretty much it. I'm still not sure if I got her personality even close… But, hey, FF. net needs more Trip stories. Am I right?

Please review and tell me what you thought.
Adios!
--avearia