Joe's Note: Wow. That was a bit of a change from last time, wasn't it? But after talking it over with my beta, we agreed it was a good way to deal with the 'not enough shifting' problem within the story. As for the reaction of her peers? Well, I went straight to the source and asked the horse. The Starbucks I spend a good amount of time writing at is frequented by most of the cheerleading squad from the nearby high school. Thanks to boyfriends dragging them to X-Men: Apocalypse - or seeing it and preceding movies on their own because they wanted to - most of them knew who Mystique was. Out of the two dozen girls I asked, over three-quarters said that their main reaction to finding out a teammate was Mystique would be jealousy first and foremost, followed by a healthy dose of curiosity. Maybe - as I posit later in the story - it's because they're too short-sighted to think of their peers using such power in the same was as the adult Mystique of the older X-Men movies. Or perhaps the average high school cheerleader is truly so vapid that they would only want to use such a power for simple cosmetic changes, and therefore honestly believe that's all a friend would use it for too. I didn't have time to conduct thorough interviews, so details like that are left to the imagination, but it did give me somewhere to start when it came to the Cordettes.
Dedications & Thanks: To Nicholas, Alexander, Howard, MJ, Daniel, Christopher, Kentucky Fried Dragon, Joseph, mpop, RileyWestfall, bloodylord, Luke, Zachary, Marc, Ziryo, Elliot, Crusifikz70, Timothy, Leigh, Jason, Chris, George, Koby, Ken, Thyatira, William, Invernos, Paul, Pat, Warren, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

November 6, 2013
Paseo Nuevo Shops & Restaurants - Jekyll & Hide
Sunnydale, California

Tearing her gaze away from Jekyll & Hide's storefront, Willow tugged impatiently at the suddenly reluctant Harmony's wrist. "C'mon, Harmony. Sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can get back to… whoever it is you're doing this afternoon." Letting out a little gasp, she brought her free hand up to her mouth as she looked back at Harmony. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say whoever? I meant… no, I meant whoever."

Harmony scoffed and then Willow stumbled forward a step as her companion kicked the back of her leg. "Funny. Especially coming from a girl who went through how many sex partners on Halloween?"

"Fewer than you go through in the locker room after an away game?" Spinning around, Willow took a moment to laugh at the dumbfounded look on Harmony's face before grabbing the blonde's other wrist and pulling her along as she walked backward into the store. This 'saying what she actually thought' thing was turning out to be a lot of fun. Almost - but not quite - as much fun as her new 'not caring what other people think' thing. "What, were you expecting me to stammer or deny it or something? I'm pretty sure the entire damn school knows what happened on Halloween. I've had more guys come up to me in the hallways 'just to say hi' in the last four days than the entire rest of my educational experience combined. A few girls, too. Speaking of which, how's Missy doing?"

Leaning backwards, Harmony tried to dig in her heels only to find herself skidding forward as her heels failed to find traction. "Don't know, don't care. She's not a Cordette and even if she was, I wouldn't want to know about what she got up to with girls. Especially you."

Willow paused in her efforts as she pondered that one before shrugging it off. "I'd say don't knock me till you try me, but I don't feel like getting three venereal diseases found only in sharks." That one earned her a blank look, and she sighed. "It's from Saturday Night Live. Humor a bit more intellectual than reading two lines of text bracketing a picture of a penguin or velociraptor; I'm not surprised you don't know what it is." Giving up, Willow released Harmony's arms and turned her back on the blonde. "Listen, I'm going in there one way or another. Cordelia wants me to meet her standards, so I'm taking the Aura-slash-Janet-slash-Michelle route and making myself unique and collectible." Actually, the combined analytics from her MyGirlFund sales and Tumblr post reblogs were guiding her towards more leather as opposed to any other way of fleshing out her 'fun' wardrobe, but Harmony didn't need to know that. "Like I said, you hate me and I hate you. The sooner this is done, the sooner you can ditch me."

There was a sigh and then Harmony pressed against Willow's back, urging her forward. "Fine. But you're getting some clothes made of non-animal fabrics too. Other than any socks or underwear you buy today. Girls can't live on leather alone." Well technically she'd be living 'in' it, not 'on' it… but meh. Semantics.

As she followed Harmony into Jekyll & Hide, Willow's eyes began to flit back and forth as she cataloged the incredible variety of items available for sale. While she'd grown beyond her childish view of leather being restricted to pants, skirts, and maybe bikers' vests some time ago, even she was a bit surprised at the variety of clothing the store had brought to the perpetually bourgeois Sunnydale. Half a dozen different styles of pants, shorts so short that her butt felt chilly just looking at them, skirts ranging from conservative ankle-length affairs to shorter than even Harmony would likely wear, what looked like entire business suits made out of leather, and… Willow felt a soft blush spreading over her cheeks as her eyes landed on the lingerie section. Yeah, she'd stick to her existing collection there. Intriguing to be sure, but not quite for her.

Where else should she stick to her existing look, though? Loathe as Willow was to admit it, she kinda had to side with Harmony… Queen of Dead Cows wasn't quite what she had in mind for her makeover. Perhaps then the Princess of Dead Cows? Have leather be a significant portion of her new wardrobe, but not to the point that she looked like a walking billboard for this store? It'd certainly be different. New. Fresh. Completely the opposite of the Willow who had failed socially in every possible way. Definitely more interesting and exotic than the handful of outfits she'd been planning to retain out of her existing wardrobe. And the look on Cordelia's face come tomorrow morning would be priceless…

As she stood there debating the future of her wardrobe, a soft cough to her right made Willow squeak in surprise, whirling to find an amused-looking brunette in a black leather dress staring at her. Unlike most stores, the saleswoman's name tag was on a lanyard around her neck rather than pinned to her clothes… which made sense, since poking holes in leather clothes day in and day out probably wasn't good for them. "Hi. I'm Elle and you're incredibly out of your depth."

"Actually, my name is Willow." Willow paused and blinked a few times as she processed that particular comeback; had she just made a Dad Joke by accident? Yup, she was a nerd. "And… kinda. I'm thinking of giving myself a near total style makeover, but Harmony's not exactly into leather and so she's about as useful as a screen door on a submarine."

"I can hear you, you know!"

"I've done lots of reading online, but theory and practice are two totally different things…" Willow trailed off, figuring she should wrap things up so that Elle could get a word in edgewise. "But that's probably why they pay you, right? To help?"

Elle laughed before reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. "Exactly. I'm here to get you from this…" Sliding her hand down, the brunette tugged on the sleeve of Willow's plain white blouse before spreading her arms and gesturing to the clothes around them. "…to this. Now, first things first. Are you Muslim or Hindu?" Willow shook her head. "Okay, good. Muslims can't wear pigskin leather and Hindus are against cow leather, so if you were either, we'd have to watch what you buy. Jewish?" That got a nod. "Okay, so then you're allowed to buy whatever you want but you shouldn't wear leather footwear on Yom Kippur, Tisha B'Av, or if someone you know dies and you're in morning. I assume you know why; I'm just regurgitating what was on the training video. But other than that, you're good. Moving on, is anything catching your eye? I'm here to help, not treat you like a Barbie doll and dress you the way that I think you should dress. Unless that's your thing…"

Despite her better judgement, Willow raised an eyebrow at that. "And if it is my thing?"

After looking her up and down speculatively, Elle offered a faint shrug. "I've never had a submissive come to me and ask for that, but I suppose it's just like anything else: I charge by the hour for the pleasure of my 'company'. You're adorable, though, so I'd give you a discount."

"Wait, you're a-"

"Yeah. Got a part-time job here because I get a hefty discount and I can finally write off all my leather as a work expense. The IRS just assumes it's for this job and not my night job."

Coughing loudly to get their attention, Harmony gestured back at the store's entrance. "Since I'm pretty sure that Willow is a few seconds away from accidentally making an indecent proposal and I'm not sure whether or not hearing it would make me an accessory to solicitation… I'm out. Willow, feel free to indulge in your love of all things made of dead animal skin until… oh, that's right, the cows can't come home anymore. They've been turned into pants." Elle let out a snort of laughter at that one, making Harmony preen at her wittiness for a few seconds before continuing. "I'm going to go buy you some normal people tops to pair with your dead cow bottoms, some tights, definitely some makeup, and a few other things that you'll need to look presentable. Kay?"

Hmm. Rock and a hard place there. On the plus side, it meant getting rid of Harmony. On the other hand, it meant that Willow was putting her faith in the blonde when it came to part of her new wardrobe and Harmony had a distinctly different aesthetic than she did. Mehh. She could always return things if she had to, which wouldn't be hard because she had a feeling she'd be visiting the mall a lot more often in the future. "Fine. But keep the underwear to a minimum. I'm pretty well set in that… oh, don't look so shocked." Reaching up, Willow deftly popped the top two buttons on her blouse and then tugged it far enough to the side to show off her bright red bra strap. "Just because I don't let half the world see it like you do doesn't mean that I don't own it."

Harmony let out a soft snort before shaking her head in amusement. "And here I thought Halloween was a fluke. There may be hope for you yet. Fine. But if I see something really cute in a color that'll look good on you, I might grab it anyway." Since despite her jabs, Willow was pretty sure that Harmony's idea of 'cute' underwear was pretty close to her viewers' preferences for her cam show attire? She'd allow it. "32B, small panties, size small shirts, reds and purples for the most part?"

"Jewel tones preferably. Red, purple, maybe some blue. And black is fine, obviously. No white, though." Frowning, Willow rewound the conversation a bit further in her head. Something from Harmony's ramble was bugging her, but she couldn't figure out… oh! "But I don't need you to buy me makeup. Just because I don't wear it often doesn't mean I don't own any."

Harmony just rolled her eyes in response. "Good for you. Maybe if you'd told me that earlier, we could have stopped at your house so I could see what you do and don't need. Now I'm going to have to buy you everything just in case." Or they could go back to her house after this, drop off her new clothes, Harmony could inspect her makeup, and then-

But before Willow could share that idea, Harmony turned and wandered off. Sighing, the redhead turned to Elle. "Right then. Maybe we should start with pants and then branch out into skirts? I'll need something to go with the shirts Harmony is evidently buying me and out of what I'm keeping from my old wardrobe, I've definitely got more skirts than pants…"

November 6, 2013
Rosenberg Household - Living Room
Sunnydale, California

"Jesus Christ, it's a Lion! Get in the…" Gwen trailed off as three white-clad players converged on the Denver quarterback and then began cackling as the sack caused Tebow to fumble the ball, one of the Detroit players recovering it and running all the way back up the field for a touchdown. "God, I figured he sucked after even the Patriots didn't want him this season but Jesus. What was that, the third sack on him of the game?"

Blowing a strand of Honolulu Blue hair out of her face, Michelle pondered that for a moment before correcting the blonde. "Fourth sack, second fumble. He recovered the first one, though. You're right, though. I always heard people talk about him like he was going to be the next Aaron Rodgers or Tom Brady, but he's going down faster than Harmony on a first date." In the midst of taking a sip from one of two straws they'd stuck into a two-liter bottle of Diet Pepsi, Gwen abruptly snorted soda out of her nose, following up with a series of noises halfway between coughing and laughter. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week. Tip your waiter and the veal."

Gwen could only glare as she took several deep breaths, trying to fill her poor abused lungs. Just as she was finally recovering, the obnoxiously loud squeal of tires made the blonde look back over her shoulder and wince. "Speak of the devil. Sounds like Harmony's back with Willow. And not any better at driving than when I rode with her. Considering your cousin thought Cordelia was horrible behind the wheel… prepare for a green geek in five… four… three… two…" The door burst open and Willow bolted past, dropping a pile of bags at the foot of the stairs as she raced up them, disappearing from sight. A few moments later, loud retching reached their ears. "And this is why I never accept rides from Harmony. Well, anymore."

Another retch came a moment later and Michelle shuddered, looking for something to distract the two of them from Willow's gastronomic distress. Her gaze landed on the pile of bags at the foot of the stairs, most of which bore an unfamiliar logo and the words 'Jekyll & Hide' in flowing script. "Hey, let's see what she bought."

"Aww…" Latching on to Michelle's arm, Gwen offered up her best puppy dog eyes. "Can't it wait? I want to see how the game ends."

Hmm. Clothes or football? Football or clothes? What still remained of the boy inside her screamed football, even though she knew that logically a 'real' teenage girl would probably be more interested in the clothes. Then again, Gwen was a real girl and wanted to watch the football game… "Gwen, it's a rerun of two-year-old game. Hence the program being called 'NFL Replay'. You already know how it ends: Detroit beats Denver by like, forty-five to ten or something."

Gwen sighed loudly. "Yeah, yeah. Can you really blame me for wanting to watch reruns of the Lions winning, though? It's not like it happens very often."

"Seriously, though? You're not at all curious about what Harmony managed to talk 'the softer side of Sears' into buying during their happy fun mall adventure time?" Michelle bit her lip as Gwen contemplated that for a moment and then a snicker escaped as the blonde jumped up off the couch, dropping the remote on her vacated cushion before racing over to investigate Willow's abandoned bags. Rising, Michelle followed at a more sedate pace, raising an eyebrow as Gwen quickly separated the bags into four neat piles. "Is this how snooping works out here in California? Because out in New York, it usually involves more-"

Picking up two of the piles, Gwen nodded towards the stairs. "Why snoop when you can snoop and earn brownie points with someone who's still not sure whether or not they like you? We carry the bags upstairs for Willow, help her unpack them, and we get to see what she bought while helping her out because she's sick. Win-win."

How very Machiavellian of her. Michelle shook her head as she grabbed her assigned bags and led Gwen up the stairs towards Willow's room. And here she'd thought it was just a Cordelia thing. Nope. Evidently it was a cheerleader thing. And she was allowing herself to be surrounded by them. Wonderful. Wait. Since when did she know the word 'Machiavellian', much less what it meant and when it applied to people? A remnant of Halloween, presumably, but… in that case, what else was floating around in her head, waiting for an excuse to make itself known?

By the time Willow finally emerged from the bathroom, a disgruntled look on her face and smelling like she'd chugged an entire bottle of mouthwash, Michelle and Gwen had managed to unpack all of the bags, clip tags, and separate the clothes into piles on the bed based on where Michelle guessed they might get stashed in Willow's room. The redhead stood there in the doorway, staring at them uncertainly, only to scowl as Michelle held up an ankle-length black leather skirt and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "What?"

"Aunt Sheila is going to have a cow when she sees this." Michelle looked back over her shoulder at the bed and then amended her statement. "Well, assuming there are any cows left to be had. I think you and Harmony bought them all." The look she got for that could have peeled paint, but Michelle couldn't help herself. "Hey, you brought this on yourself. There's no reason to get all… moo-dy. Give me a second to think of another one; at this point, I bet you've… herd… them all."

Willow rolled her eyes before stalking forward, snatching the skirt away from Michelle and tossing it back onto the bed. "Funny. Not. Now, is there a reason you're up here bothering me instead of being downstairs doing… whatever you were doing when I got home? And why the hell do you have blue hair all of a sudden? A really ugly blue at that?"

Looking back and forth between the two of them, Gwen raised her hand hesitantly. "Err, my fault on both counts. We were watching the Detroit at Denver game and I saw a few fans in the crowd with dyed hair. Made me wonder if Michelle could turn hers colors like that, or if she was limited to 'real' hair colors. Now we know. And I thought you might like it if we helped you out because you weren't feeling well. Sorry?"

"Oh. Thanks." Wandering over to her dresser, Willow pulled one of the drawers all the way out and then dumped the contents onto the floor. "Well, if the two of you want to help, you can keep doing what you're doing while I go through my existing clothes and decide what's staying and what's going." Dropping the emptied drawer on the bed, Willow frowned and then looked over at her computer. "We might need to look up Leather Care 101 first, though. I just realized that I forgot to ask Elle a few important things. Like whether or not you can leave leather folded up in a drawer for days and days. I might have a mostly closet-based wardrobe now."

Gwen took a moment to glance down at herself, tugging gently on the hem of her own skirt before offering Willow a helpless shrug. "Sorry, you're on your own there. I'm not really a pants person, much less a leather pants person. So this whole leather thing is new to you? Not a secret side of Willow that you've hidden from all of us at school?"

Nodding, Willow made her way back over to the dresser and started dumping out the contents of the rest of her drawers, setting them down on any flat space she could find as she worked. "Yeah. Cordelia bet Harmony that she couldn't bring me up to 'her standards', which meant either blonde prep or special little snowflake. So I decided to go with Option B, and decided to flesh out the 'No More Miss Nice Nerd' section of my wardrobe since I couldn't really think of anyone at school who wears much in the way of leather." When she reached her underwear drawer, she opened it and stared at the contents for a moment before opting against dumping it. Instead, she pulled out what Michelle thought was probably the sexiest of the bras she'd found during her snooping that fateful morning, holding it up so that Gwen could see. "On the other hand, what you and the other Cordettes don't know about me could probably fill one of Cordelia's new bras."

"Huh. Yeah, I'm starting to see that. And good one. We'll make a Cordette out of you yet."

"…oh boy. Just what I never wanted out of life." Willow tossed the bra back into the drawer and nudged it shut with her hip before making her way over to stand next to Michelle. Leaning in, she rested her cheek on the blue-haired girl's shoulder before lowering her voice as she whispered into Michelle's ear. "If I hadn't just thrown up everything I've eaten in the last month, I'd probably be upset that Blondie over there is costing me valuable sex time."

These days, Michelle wouldn't be surprised to find out that Willow hated school for costing her valuable sex time. While sharing a house with a sex-crazed friend with benefits sounded awesome in theory, it wasn't nearly as much fun in reality. Well, the sex still felt good, obviously, and it wasn't technically boring because they were trying new things constantly. But at the same time, it was already starting to get… mundane? It felt like a chore, almost. That, and despite Willow's repeated insistence that the form she wore to school should be 'just an outfit' to her, the fact that Willow seemed equally cool toward both her preferred form and her natural appearance was starting to eat at Michelle. She couldn't even say that she felt like Harmony at this point because unlike her, people seemed to actually want to have sex with the blonde.

But while she wasn't adverse to hopping the fence in pursuit of greener grass, Michelle had no interest in going from some bland but pleasant enough grass to a sprawling hardscape. Which was to say that while she was definitely going to be on the lookout for a real relationship, Willow's attention was better than no attention at all.

For now.

After another week or two of sex overload, she might have a different opinion on the matter.

November 8, 2013
Pierce Household - Brittany's Bedroom
Sunnydale, California

Thanks to her powers, Brittany knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. Opening her eyes, she met the amused brown gaze of her girlfriend. "…you're not just a telepath, you're a really light sleeper. How the hell did she-"

"I let her. You earned it." Santana rolled her eyes as Brittany sat up, the blonde shooting her an offended look as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What? Don't look at me like that. You broke into her house, stripped her, and wrote on her. You totally deserved this, Brittany. Actually? Now that I think about it, you probably deserve something worse. Fox still has writing on her back. Your hair will be back to normal a few seconds after you're done being indignant."

Brittany let out an affronted huff as she reached up and ran a hand over the peach fuzz that remained on her head. It was remarkably even for a prank haircut, almost professionally so. While buzz cuts didn't exactly require skill to pull off, there was still plenty that could go wrong along the way… as she had found out firsthand back when she first began experimenting with her mutation. "So what, did you just lay there and watch her do it or something? Because this must have taken her a while. Relatively speaking. It's not like a, vwoop, dragged the clippers over your head to fuck your hair up and then bolted sort of thing."

Rolling onto her back, Santana stretched languidly before sitting up and wobbling one hand from side to side. "It took her about ten minutes from start to finish; I probably could have done it in a third of the time but I've had practice with you. I woke up the second she entered the room and almost brained her with one of your cheerleading trophies. Calmed down, she explained why she was there, I went and got a drink of water while she worked." That earned her a renewed glare from Brittany but Santana just waved it off. "Like I said, you deserved it. Oh, and I made her clean up after herself so neither of us woke up with a face full of dead hair. That was nice of me, right?"

"You are quite possibly the worst girlfriend in the history of girlfriends." Brittany huffed again, reaching out to swat Santana's shoulder before sliding out of bed and walking over to stare at the mirror perched atop her dresser. Ugh. Some girls looked good with short hair… but she was not one of those girls. Scrunching up her brow in concentration, she watched as her hair slowly but surely grew back out to the same length it had been before Fox's nocturnal visit. Brittany reached up and ran her fingers through it before pausing and letting out a wry chuckle as she realized that she'd fucked up: caught up in thoughts about Fox and Widowness, she'd accidentally regrown her hair in Natasha's color. Meeting Santana's gaze in the mirror, she tilted her head to the side. "What do you think? Red seems to be in these days…"

Santana hummed thoughtfully as she rolled out of bed, making her way over to hug Brittany from behind and rest her chin on the taller girl's shoulder. "I think… that your mom is nice enough to look the other way about your 'best friend' continuing to sleep over even though she knows we're dating. Let's not test that goodwill with a 'late night dye party', hmm?"

Fair enough. Although that reminded Brittany, she really did need to figure out how to come out of that other closet one of these days. To her parents first, unlike with her sexuality, and then to the world as a whole. Because with Michelle running around school looking different on a daily basis, the time was ripe for Brittany to embrace her inner awesomeness and begin exploiting her own abilities for social gain…

November 8, 2013
Sunnydale High School - Hallway
Sunnydale, California

"So, what are you?"

"Excuse me?"

After explaining the true nature of her 'obsession' to Harmony and Cordelia, Michelle had sat down with the pair and Gwen to try and figure out how to handle the matter. After the better part of a week, the four of them had come up with… exactly nothing. Nobody even knew the girl's name, much less the slightest detail about her. They couldn't waylay her between classes that she didn't go to, or on a walk home that she didn't seem to make. As far as anyone could figure out, she just appeared at school each morning and lingered there all day before disappearing as suddenly as she'd appeared. And so in the end, Michelle had decided - over Cordelia's protestations - to go with the direct approach: corner her at school and just ask for answers. "You don't actually go to class, nobody knows who you are, you're strangely antisocial for someone who spends most of her time hanging around groups of people… and oh yeah, I heard your comment about 'Göndul' and 'Amora' on Monday. So… what are you? Any why are you here, seeing as how you clearly have no idea how infiltration is supposed to work?"

Directly in her mysterious quarry's presence for the first time, Michelle took a moment to look the girl up and down even as the statuesque brunette returned the favor and eyed her appraisingly. Gwen hadn't been wrong in saying… well, any of the things she'd said about the girl, really. But the first thing to jump out at Michelle was the girl's height: she really was fucking massive. Easily over six feet, which was something no other girl at Sunnydale High - or at least none that Michelle were aware of - could claim. She was also quite possibly the most muscular woman that Michelle had met in real life; her heavily corded biceps were almost as thick as Willow's thighs. Not quite the size of Michelle's thighs, at least not after the improvements the redhead had made to differentiate herself from Willow. The girl's skin was pale and flawless like Willow's, setting off clear blue eyes and chocolate brown hair that had been pulled back into a single thick plait. There were also the girl's… huge tracts of lands… straining at the neckline of a cardinal red tank top, but Michelle tried to avoid looking at those too much. According to pretty much everyone, she was about as subtle as a tank when it came to such things…

Finishing her inspection, Michelle let her gaze wander upward to meet the girl's blue eyes… which continued to stare at her impassively for long enough that the redhead started to squirm uncomfortably. Finally, the corner of the brunette's mouth quirked upward. "Mæja." What? "My name is Mæja. Mæja Mæjannujardóttir. And in my defense, valkyries generally aren't asked to infiltrate anything but the Allfather wanted to know more about the magic that Heimdallr sensed coming from your town on Alfablót. I was picked over the dedicated spies of the Allfather's retinue because I'm both a seiðkona and passing familiar with Midgard."

"A what?"

"A seiðkona. A… witch, I suppose you'd call them."

"Oh." Michelle found herself nibbling on her lower lip uncertainly as she mentally skipped forward a good five to ten minutes in the conversation she'd rehearsed in her head. She'd been anticipating denials or lies or something other than just 'hi, yes, I'm exactly what you suspected I am'. Not getting that left her… she wasn't sure where, to be honest. "I'm not sure where to go from here. You're being a lot more honest than any of us expected you to be. Most of the conversation I prepared involved a mixture of arguing and threatening-slash-blackmailing."

Mæja offered a faint smile at that, pushing off the locker that Michelle had found her leaning against hard enough to make the metal groan in protest. "Why wouldn't I be honest with you? After all, you're part of the reason I'm here." Reaching out, she wrapped a muscular arm around the smaller girl's waist and pulled a stunned Michelle along beside her as she began walking down the hallway. "I've been watching you just as closely as you've been watching me, Michelle. You, Cordelia, Willow, Janet, Aphrodesia, Harmony, Fox, Brittany, close to two dozen others in this school alone… you all carry the taint of Janus's magic upon you and therefore are connected to what Heimdallr felt. How could I possibly expect you to give me the answers to my questions if I'm not willing to give you the answers to your questions?" So quid pro quo, then. Fair enough. Michelle paused, cocking her head to the side. Since when did she use 'quid pro quo'? Since when did she even know what it meant? Since Halloween, presumably, but… ugh. It was still weird. "That said, I'll admit that I'd be more receptive to your questions than your friends'. After all, I haven't met another shapeshifter since I arrived in Asgard over a century ago."

If possible, Michelle's eyes got even wider at Mæja's words. "Another shapeshifter? You're saying that you're like me, then?"

"Only in the most superficial sense, really. From what I've seen of you showing off around school, your abilities put mine to shame in most ways." Mæja shot a glance back over her left shoulder and when she turned back to Michelle, her face was bisected. The right half remained normal, with one blue eye and skin pale enough to rival Willow's, while the left was a color closer to Santana's and riddled with cracks that allowed a glowing substance reminiscent of lava to peek through. "I'm what you Midgardians would call an eldjötunn… a fire giant."

The first thing to come to Michelle's mind was wholly irreverent and yet she couldn't stop it from escaping her lips. "I may be better at shapeshifting, but I feel like I'll never be as hot as you…"