Agh... I knew this would happen. Sorry everyone for the late update, it's just, life, school, you know, all the same excuses I've always used. ^^' Hey, at least I got it up before the next deadline, give me that at least!
Also, I'm really starting to think that Misspent is almost over. There are going to be a few more chapters, yes (and I'm planning an epilogue... Not making promises though), I'm just saying now because the last chapter of the first book was so sudden, the end is currently on the horizon.
...Ah, I just love the name of this chapter. :)
Review Responses!
Dreadwing216: That's what it looks like, doesn't it? Now, what do you think that could indicate?
MagicQuill42: Why? We just had a whole chapter devoted to why! :P Anyway, the reason is, in a word, plot.
Guest: I know I had fun with it. Sadly, there are currently no Let it Go parodies in the works here, but who knows, anything's possible. Thanks, and I will try!
Jet Engine: Oh, dear, I'm sorry to hear that, but I was kind of hoping for that reaction. Heh, I can see that, actually - after all, everyone in this town is a tad strange...
Rainbowleaf9987: Hm, looks like I need to break out the Typo Find-Inator. In the meantime, I suppose Gretchen can get Sylveon (until they make a Flying Eeveelution, that is - it has to happen!), Isabella can keep Glaceon, and Candace can get Espeon? It kind of makes sense. Also, I realize a lot of news has leaked between your review and this update, so it might be obvious but while I'm personally looking forward to Pokémon Go!, it's possible they have a Z version in mind. But then which Mega Stones would they give... Unless... Mega Charizard and Mewtwo Z? That would be awesome! I'd take the remade Yellow though, but that would mean another Kanto - R/B/Y, G/S, FR/LG, HG/SS, then whatever they'd call the new one.
Anyone who understood everything in that paragraph gets a free e-high-five from me!
Galaxina-the-Seedrian: I'll take those rants. :3 No, Perry is not a Pokémon, but if he was I'd say he would have to be part Water-Type, if anything. Hah, isn't it just? Darnity darn... I've actually never cursed in my life (true story), so coming up with less profane ways to verbally express frustration can lead to some amusing phrases.
Gretchen's POV:
There exists a vast multitude of words in my English vocabulary, but when describing volitance, there is only one that stands out above the rest, in this case almost literally: exhilaration.
Even more exhilarating than the fact that I finally introduced my point of view correctly is this feeling of weightlessness I have the honor of experiencing, the sensation of the wind whipping past every square inch of the surface of my body, of the sleeves of the hoodie I tied around my waist in signature flapping against my legs and sides unhindered by the tiny piece of fabric that was my shorts, which never succeeded in being visible from behind due to said hoodie's sheer length, of the jangles of my star-shaped necklace and bracelets moving about as if possessed by some unseen force to dance around my neck and wrist with respect to their location and tickle those areas of my body even more than the wind, the air, the drops, the dives, the spins, the freedom tickles my heart and mind and spirit.
I have not had a similar experience since the last time I had the immense honor of riding Phineas' and Ferb's Coolest Coaster Ever. That was truly something amazing. So is this.
As I continue to gain altitude, I initiate observations of additional similitudes to a ride of that nature than I would have expected had I never gotten the opportunity to experience free flight. Over the course of this time in which I have possessed it, I have come to develop a sort of habit of periodically increasing and decreasing the distance vertically between myself and the ground at not-quite-cyclic intervals while I also move in one direction otherwise parallel to it. Not to mention the extremely entertaining loops and dives, which I now realize have been the objects that rollercoasters attempt to imitate, not the other way around.
So caught up in my sheer exhilaration am I that for a moment I begin to feel my abdomen catching up with me, then the rest of my body falling, it lagging along behind. I have never been one for being sick (well, excluding conditions on aquatic vehicles, such as boats; simply can't stand them), but at this moment the word exhilaration begins to shyly step away out of the limelight into the corners of my mind, replaced by nausea as the dominant description of my current emotional state of affairs.
From a location behind mine, Ferb, atop a large piece of land severed from the ground, floats towards me faster to close the distance between his previous location relative to my flight pattern and the vertical line down which I discover myself falling. On his small grassy terrain grows a plethora of leaves and vines and grass and leaves and vines and grass and foliage to break my fall.
I land in it with a jolt and a thud. I can feel in the split second that I hit the platform the wind, which I had been so convinced was on my side, a devoted ally, being knocked out of my lungs. With a bit of a grunt, I attempt to force some back into me, with some measure of success; my respiratory system feels a bit overwhelmed for a second, my sinister hand lost all feeling, and I am dizzy, but a cough and a shaky return to my feet later my senses all initiate their functions properly again and I about face to meet Ferb's optical organs.
"Uh, my utmost gratitude," I offer in thanks; he simply returns with a thumbs-up.
My breathing proper again, I place myself at the edge, lay down on my stomach, and gaze precariously out over the ground below. I do not fear falling, but I do recognize the present danger if my powers really are not as controlled as I had anticipated.
"However," I add, not refraining from my overlooking the bustling city from the flying ground, "My blunder was not executed by my own will. I accidentally fell, so I am not certain of the full extent to which I really possess control over my abilities. W-We did just receive them yesterday, after all."
In response, I can feel Ferb's own powers working themselves through the terrain, as another multitude of vines grow out and wrap themselves around my torso, encasing me to the ground like a blanket. This would be more easily appreciated, of course, if I was in a more comfortable position, though Ferb's sentiment is evident: he cares for my safety. I gently smile. Either that, or he is still having the same problem and is empathizing with me. My smile dissipates as I realize what might happen if the latter was true, and I am suddenly aware of how unsteady and wobbly this rock has been and how trapped I am onto it. Exactly how long would it take, I wonder, to make sure that, in case of an emergency, I can use my own abilities to land safely on the ground at Ferb's potential mistake?
"That's alright, I can probably handle it," I decide, resulting in Ferb's pulling the vines back into the soil. It's not that I don't have faith in Ferb's abilities, I do trust him; I simply would rather be in a less-confined position in any circumstance. We divert our attention to the sinister purple building ahead. Phineas is currently located inside; the very thought causes my heart to race.
I cautiously step out over to the edge of the piece of land on which we ride. I place one bare foot at the edge, letting my toes curl over the damp dirt, then the other. My thin legs bend slightly, as though I am a diver about to leap off the board, and I can feel my jacket pushing up around me like a cape attached at my waist, and I can feel the cold air brushing past my face and through my bangs and flipping my low minuscule ponytail around as if that of a real horse in a swarm of infested houseflies.
My arms, bent to forty-five degrees each at the elbows, raise so that my shoulders align perpendicularly to my torso, and I jump off the earth. I do not come back down until I am situated upon the evil scientist's balcony, Ferb at my side, my feet complaining against the cold hard metal floor, and my heart rate triple what is considered healthy for a female thirteen-year-old human being such as myself.
Candace's POV
You ask anyone in my family, and they will not deny that I have a few - problems. I've learned to live with it, though, and for their sake I've calmed down over the past year or so, but of all my screws loose a big one of them has been the need for attention. It's always been my little brother this, Phineas and Ferb that, did you hear Vanessa got accepted into the best college in the Tri-State Area? Oh, yeah, and that Candace girl. Wonder why she isn't in Crazy Person Jail yet. Even Perry, my little brothers' pet, is recognized by the US government as probably one of the most kick-butt secret agents out there, and what do I have on that?
But now that - all this - is happening and Phineas could be in potential danger, I've been granted the only power the rest of us have that could let us get in okay, to save him.
I just don't get what we're even doing. Phineas went in by his own will to Doofenshmirtz's apartment, and as alarming as that is, does it really necessitate a full-scale break-in to rescue him from his own voluntary choice? What if he doesn't want to come back with us? Doofenshmirtz could be doing anything to him by now!
But, far be it from me to let up such a chance to make myself a useful part of the team, even if its unofficial leader is a fifteen-year-old with a glorified head cold. For once, all eyes (even Perry's!) are on me as I play with the colors of the visible spectrum. They seem to be at least somewhat triggered by emotions, which is a bit annoying to deal with - oh, look, there's some more orange - and so far I've only been able to get the warm colors. Their cool complements don't seem to be coming out right.
Vanessa notices the amount of frustration-signaling orange I inadvertently created in the space in front of me, and tries to calm me down. "Hey, don't go so hard. On yourself, that is. I certainly couldn't do that."
Something about her tone and syntax seems very familiar to me, as if she was trying to imitate someone I know; I just can't place it. "Thanks," I mutter, and suddenly notice traces of green pop up. Would that be gratitude, or was it just a breakthrough caused by the limitless power of friendship?
Eh, the answer is irrelevant. I get an idea, and begin orchestrating each of the color groups I was able to concoct into a certain order: that of the infamous Roy G. Biv.
Biv is still having problems (the colors were somewhat there, but were pretty transparent and were mostly white), but apart from that my first rainbow is looking pretty decent. I hold it out for a bit longer, focusing more on the purples and blues, and move it over to one side of the yard; with great flourish, I move both my hands above my head and back down to the other side again, the light following and extending to become what one would picture a stereotypical rainbow to look like.
"Woah, Candace, that's-that's beautiful!" Isabella compliments, and even Vanessa gives a half-approving nod of the head. As close as we are as sisters, she has never been overly colorful; in fact, she only started wearing a red blouse a couple years ago for her eighteenth, her current last wardrobe change. The skirt and boots - both long as ever - still remain her signature black.
"You know, I think I'm ready to try it," I decide, referring to the process of turning myself or someone else invisible. Perry walks up to my leg, chattering as if to volunteer. "Ready, Perry?"
The platypus blinks dumbly. I close my eyes, harnessing my focus on him, imagining the grass behind him; my eyes open and I look into those of the Giant Floating Baby Head.
"Uh, I don't think that's what it's supposed to look like," informs Vanessa slowly. "Try again."
I comply, and this time Perry becomes Klimpaloon. Another attempt yields a Terra Cotta warrior; another, a red-cheeked yellow rodent of some kind, then a howling coyote, an image of Perry standing up on two legs a la his secret agent mode, a man in a grilled cheese sandwich suit, an empty space, a potted plant in a fedora, that creepy zebra that keeps calling me Kevin-
"Wait!" Isabella commands me to stop. "Go back two!"
I go back two. "Great," the girl coughs, "You did it."
The space in front of me chatters, signifying Perry's approval. I let the light flicker back to normal, keeping it in its straight path before bouncing off of the platypus. "Now, can you do it to yourself is the question," challenges Vanessa.
Hm... This will be harder. I can try repelling-
Isabella interrupts my train of thoughts. "Oh, sweet. That was quick." Looking down I see she is right; I can't even see my own hand when I hold it in front of my face.
Experimentally, I close my eyes to see if I can't make the lids invisible - that would be a useful talent. However, seeing as there is no light underneath them to bend around them, this proves impossible.
Well, maybe not if Phineas was here. He laughs in the face of impossible. Always has.
I open my eyes, and see that I am visible again. "Well, that was easier than expected," I admit. "So, what now? Are we waiting to hear from Ferb and Gretchen, or what?"
"A signal would be nice, yes," Vanessa agrees, "But we have to expect one soon. Those two should ideally be there in about-" she looks down at her wrist, then realized her watch wouldn't provide her with any helpful information - "Soon. In the meantime, what sort of plan do we have?"
Thank goodness, I was afraid we didn't have one there. "Um, we don't have one," Isabella informs. Well, slurp.
"Not officially, I mean. Though it seems pretty simple; Ferb and Gretchen are out spying, and when they give the all-clear we can get over there, find Doofenshmirtz and Phineas, and rescue him." Isabella conjures up a scale model of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, made entirely out of water, with crude somewhat-humanoid figures somewhat-clearly resembling members of our group. I find mine somewhat demeaning. "Doofenshmirtz will probably put up a fight though, you know those machines he makes. Ferb and I will focus on Phineas, while Candace, Vanessa and Gretchen hold off Doofenshmirtz. As for the -Inators..."
She trails off, her eyes coming to rest discreetly on Perry. I understand that they don't know I know his secret, so I pretend not to notice. "Sounds good," I agree, reluctantly. I'm still not sure what to expect going in there, and what does Isabella think Vanessa and I could do against our own father? We don't have anything fancy, and nothing capable of physically 'holding off' someone. But as much as Phineas means to Isabella, and how much of a natural leader I have to admit she is, I accept that whatever she says is better than what I have to offer.
As if on cue, Vanessa's watch beeps and from it is projected a holographic image of Gretchen. "We have successfully made it to the apartment," the blue projection reports. "Ferb is presently observing the area to detect its safety and discover Phineas's location. There has been no sign of either of them yet, but we are on the lookout, so consider this an invitation to join us here when you're ready."
"Aye aye," Vanessa returns, "We'll see you soon then."
Gretchen seems out of it for a moment. "With any luck," agrees she.
Perry's POV
Oh, complications. I've always had to live with them. I want to hang out with Phineas and Ferb all day? Nope, gotta fight crime. Want to ride the cool new rollercoaster all the kids are talking about? Sorry, much too short. Want to go see The Duchess Approves in theaters on opening night? Well, here's a thought, I'm a platypus.
But part of being a secret agent is handling complications, and as a platypus that's good at his job, I can confidently say that I have the situation under control. Yes, it is a complication that Candace cannot be seen knowing my secret identity, but we have not been revealed yet, so why should today be different?
The eighteen-going-on-nineteen-year-old took extra care to make and keep me invisible as we approached the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated building, keeping me hidden from the others the whole time whereas they only were once we got here. I had been instructed by Vanessa and Isabella to wait at the house until Candace was out of the way, then follow discreetly after, but I like this plan better.
Once we get there, we are crestfallen to find that, once again, the elevator is out of order. In fact, it looks like every electrical appliance in the building is out.
"Oh, what bologna!" Candace whisper-spits in disappointment, "It's never working!"
"No, it normally runs pretty well, considering Dad," informs Vanessa; Candace's face in response to this statement can only be described as indescribable. Mostly because none of us could see it, it being invisible, but the edge in her voice shows how she feels relatively clearly.
"Well, I always end up having to take the stairs," she admits. "Come on, they're this way. Let's go."
Candace does not seem to realize that no one can see her, and that she cannot see any of us. I feel the toe of her ballet flat shove itself into my side as she trips over me, and the startle she gets from her collision with the ground causes her to lose focus on the light bent around us; we become visible again. Once Isabella and Vanessa see me - in pet mode, mind you, for security reasons - they begin to pelt us (though mostly Candace) with shocked and near-silent inquiries.
"Perry, what are you doing here?"
"Why were you invisible? Candace, did you bring Perry?"
"Uh, I didn't see hi-"
"Really? Because we didn't see him either."
"W-Why would he just follow us here?"
"I don't know, he always leaves the house at some point, maybe he-"
A little fed up with the banter, I do not hold back a warning chirp, and the women fall to silence (other than the faint sounds of involuntary swooning the noise earned me, from the three of them and the somewhat distracted lobby attendant alike).
Vanessa's eyes lock into mine briefly, conflict stirring in them. "Yeah, he's right," she agrees, "We should really stay on task. I guess it wouldn't hurt to bring him along..." She raises an arm to scratch nervously and awkwardly behind her head, the chocolate-brown ponytail bobbing up and down as she did.
"Okay. Stairs are this way..." Candace's voice trails off as I make my way towards the elevator. I tune out her instruction, as the only one still technically an agent, not quite needing it; after all this time, I never have fully warmed up to working as part of a team. It might just be my training for OWCA, or the sheer amount of time I spend with Phineas and Ferb (and Doofenshmirtz, to an extent), but I have acquired a certain knack for technology; the mission would go a lot easier if I could fix the machine somehow.
While Candace is clearly distracted, I stand back up and fiddle a bit with the buttons required to call the elevator down. Nothing useful there, so I use the lazer on my 'watch' to cut open the bottom of the door (Doofenshmirtz can replace that) enough for me to crawl into.
I cautiously make my way inside, watching as Candace, Vanessa, and Isabella go invisible again and begin to ascend the stairs. They must think I'm with them, so no use trying to get them over here even if I can get something to work.
It takes some effort to rip off the panel of buttons off the elevator wall. The wires are flat and dead when I snap them apart; no electricity runs through them. It would be easy to rearrange them in such a way that it could work smoothly, that is, if I had a power source.
I rub a paw thoughtfully against the bottom of my bill, the way a human would a chin. Suddenly, I can hear the metal clank! of footsteps running towards me from across the lobby. It's Vanessa and Isabella, Candace following, who must have realized they left me behind - the first two spot my tail rather easily through the hole I made, and warned me about my cover. Candace, however, is able to steal a look at my fedora-wearing form and utter a "Come on!" - not realizing the presence of Vanessa and Isabella - when I become literally floored as a thunderous wave of electricity leaves my paws and causes the elevator doors to slam open and the capsule to rocket itself up to the penthouse.
