Title: Save for the Grace.
Author: Wallace.
Disclaimer: Many of the characters and concepts contained within are the sole property of Marvel Comics. Do I look like a major comic-book publishing company?
Note: This one may not be everyone's cup of tea, hence the rating. If you've been living in a box all your life, back away now.
I honestly don't know where it came from.
Continuity: Erm, haven't read X-Men Unlimited. Leave out Hollywood, though, and the rumoured situation is the background for this story.
Save for the Grace
Girl 1.
When I was a kid, I thought I knew where I was going.
Generally, I was going to the mall, sometimes by way of the gym.
It all looked simple – after all, I was a twelve-year-old American with rich parents. Life was going to be easy, and there were certain things I'd never have to worry about.
But then my rich parents died, and there was the orphanage – which was bad – and then juvie – which was worse – and four years on here I am.
Jubilation Lee, Teen Prostitute. Eat your heart out, Jodie Foster.
I used to think I was going somewhere. I used to know how to get there.
These days? Well, I may be going nowhere, but I still know how to get there. The way is right here, in the needle and then in the vein.
You know you're an addict when you can't get through an ordinary day without a fix. The way my life is, though, it's pretty much a miracle I only shoot up once every twenty-four hours.
Of course, in my line of work you can't afford the most reliable, honest or consistent of suppliers. This time, I've got it off Aleister, who's not too bad, though kind of creepy – he likes to pretend he's some deep and powerful mystic. He might be right, for all I care – his shit hasn't killed me yet, and he doesn't overcharge or get a kick out of hurting women, and really that's all that matters these days.
I'm lying on my back watching the ceiling move and listening to Aleister do some crazy incantation in yet another of his attempts to contact other worlds when suddenly – everything shifts. There's a bright white light, and for a moment I think I've finally gone Roast Turkey and it's goodnight, sweetheart, but then I realise I'm just no longer in Aleister's dark and smelly basement, and the sunlight is blinding me. It's a relief – better a blackout than a full-on OD.
It takes me a few moments to think about getting up, and when I do I see I'm lying on the edge of an empty lot full of junk. The skyline tells me I'm still in LA, and nowhere near Aleister's place. My clothes are intact, but there's no sign of my bag, no clue how I got here, and judging by the fact that I can still feel the heroin doing me good I wasn't unconscious very long at all. Unless whoever it was brought me here gave me another shot while I was out.
I make it to a lamppost and lean against it to watch the traffic and remind myself just why you should never try crossing the street while high. While I'm doing this, I remember that my keys were in my bag, and I'm going to have to try to get back to Aleister's place or I won't be able to go home. For a moment I find myself missing Harvey, but isn't that the way of men, never there when you need them?
Before I can even pick a direction to walk in, though, a man does turn up, skidding a bright red convertible to a halt beside me.
'Jubilee?' He says in surprise, and I turn to look at him. He's not familiar – I don't know anyone with grey skin.
'Know ya?' I ask. The world's moving funny, and he can't really have grey skin, so there's no telling what else about him I'm not seeing right. He stares at me in shock for a moment, and then grabs my arm. Oops, left off my jacket. Bad little Jubilation, leaving the track marks out for anyone in the world to see. Grey guy obviously knows what they are, too, because he starts swearing in Spanish.
'Get in the car.' He says. I may be high, but I'm not that high.
'Eighty bucks.' I tell him. Too bad my knife was in my bag along with almost everything else. For some reason the price seems to shock him. 'C'mon, rich boy, Harvey told you my name, he must have told you the price range.' I look around, but can't see the son-of-a-bitch anywhere. He must be looking after one of the others.
Grey guy just carries on staring at me for a moment, and then says, 'You're not Jubilee.' I resent that comment – wouldn't you?
'Fuck, I am. Jubilation Lee, Jubilee. Do you actually want me to go with you, or do you wanna stand here arguing all day?'
Grey guy seems to come to a decision. He goes for his wallet, and gives me a hundred-dollar bill. I don't have change, and I tell him so; he just gestures to get in the car, and when I do he drives off, fast.
Girl 2
It's been a long and glorious day in the life of this mutant mall- rat. A dozen of the finest shops LA has to offer have been left reeling in the face of Jubilation Lee, Shopping Machine, and I'm loaded with shopping bags and stuffed with junk food when I drag myself out of the taxi outside Emma's apartment building. The doorman helps me get all my stuff into the lift, and when it gets to the top floor I just drag everything into the hall and then head over to fetch Skin to carry some of my purchases.
When I open the door I'm met by the sight of Angelo – who should have had a highly relaxing day, cruising in the kind of car his kind of guy has wet dreams about – looking about as stressed as I've ever seen him. As I enter he starts violently and then just stares at me for a moment.
'Uh, Ange? Is there . . . a problem?'
'Jubilee?'
'Yeah?'
'You might wanna come and see this.' He starts to head for my bedroom.
'Hey! Whatever it is, it can wait 'till after you've helped me carry my shopping in.' He seems to wrestle with that for a moment, and then comes and drags my stuff into the apartment and me into my bedroom.
And that's where I see her for the first time, lying passed out in my bed. Have you ever wondered what your life would be like if you didn't have superpowers? Well, looking at Barely Legal Hooker Jubilee With Needle-Track Accessories, looking like skin and bones with far too much makeup, I get an idea who I would be.
You could say it's a shock, if you like understatement.
Author: Wallace.
Disclaimer: Many of the characters and concepts contained within are the sole property of Marvel Comics. Do I look like a major comic-book publishing company?
Note: This one may not be everyone's cup of tea, hence the rating. If you've been living in a box all your life, back away now.
I honestly don't know where it came from.
Continuity: Erm, haven't read X-Men Unlimited. Leave out Hollywood, though, and the rumoured situation is the background for this story.
Save for the Grace
Girl 1.
When I was a kid, I thought I knew where I was going.
Generally, I was going to the mall, sometimes by way of the gym.
It all looked simple – after all, I was a twelve-year-old American with rich parents. Life was going to be easy, and there were certain things I'd never have to worry about.
But then my rich parents died, and there was the orphanage – which was bad – and then juvie – which was worse – and four years on here I am.
Jubilation Lee, Teen Prostitute. Eat your heart out, Jodie Foster.
I used to think I was going somewhere. I used to know how to get there.
These days? Well, I may be going nowhere, but I still know how to get there. The way is right here, in the needle and then in the vein.
You know you're an addict when you can't get through an ordinary day without a fix. The way my life is, though, it's pretty much a miracle I only shoot up once every twenty-four hours.
Of course, in my line of work you can't afford the most reliable, honest or consistent of suppliers. This time, I've got it off Aleister, who's not too bad, though kind of creepy – he likes to pretend he's some deep and powerful mystic. He might be right, for all I care – his shit hasn't killed me yet, and he doesn't overcharge or get a kick out of hurting women, and really that's all that matters these days.
I'm lying on my back watching the ceiling move and listening to Aleister do some crazy incantation in yet another of his attempts to contact other worlds when suddenly – everything shifts. There's a bright white light, and for a moment I think I've finally gone Roast Turkey and it's goodnight, sweetheart, but then I realise I'm just no longer in Aleister's dark and smelly basement, and the sunlight is blinding me. It's a relief – better a blackout than a full-on OD.
It takes me a few moments to think about getting up, and when I do I see I'm lying on the edge of an empty lot full of junk. The skyline tells me I'm still in LA, and nowhere near Aleister's place. My clothes are intact, but there's no sign of my bag, no clue how I got here, and judging by the fact that I can still feel the heroin doing me good I wasn't unconscious very long at all. Unless whoever it was brought me here gave me another shot while I was out.
I make it to a lamppost and lean against it to watch the traffic and remind myself just why you should never try crossing the street while high. While I'm doing this, I remember that my keys were in my bag, and I'm going to have to try to get back to Aleister's place or I won't be able to go home. For a moment I find myself missing Harvey, but isn't that the way of men, never there when you need them?
Before I can even pick a direction to walk in, though, a man does turn up, skidding a bright red convertible to a halt beside me.
'Jubilee?' He says in surprise, and I turn to look at him. He's not familiar – I don't know anyone with grey skin.
'Know ya?' I ask. The world's moving funny, and he can't really have grey skin, so there's no telling what else about him I'm not seeing right. He stares at me in shock for a moment, and then grabs my arm. Oops, left off my jacket. Bad little Jubilation, leaving the track marks out for anyone in the world to see. Grey guy obviously knows what they are, too, because he starts swearing in Spanish.
'Get in the car.' He says. I may be high, but I'm not that high.
'Eighty bucks.' I tell him. Too bad my knife was in my bag along with almost everything else. For some reason the price seems to shock him. 'C'mon, rich boy, Harvey told you my name, he must have told you the price range.' I look around, but can't see the son-of-a-bitch anywhere. He must be looking after one of the others.
Grey guy just carries on staring at me for a moment, and then says, 'You're not Jubilee.' I resent that comment – wouldn't you?
'Fuck, I am. Jubilation Lee, Jubilee. Do you actually want me to go with you, or do you wanna stand here arguing all day?'
Grey guy seems to come to a decision. He goes for his wallet, and gives me a hundred-dollar bill. I don't have change, and I tell him so; he just gestures to get in the car, and when I do he drives off, fast.
Girl 2
It's been a long and glorious day in the life of this mutant mall- rat. A dozen of the finest shops LA has to offer have been left reeling in the face of Jubilation Lee, Shopping Machine, and I'm loaded with shopping bags and stuffed with junk food when I drag myself out of the taxi outside Emma's apartment building. The doorman helps me get all my stuff into the lift, and when it gets to the top floor I just drag everything into the hall and then head over to fetch Skin to carry some of my purchases.
When I open the door I'm met by the sight of Angelo – who should have had a highly relaxing day, cruising in the kind of car his kind of guy has wet dreams about – looking about as stressed as I've ever seen him. As I enter he starts violently and then just stares at me for a moment.
'Uh, Ange? Is there . . . a problem?'
'Jubilee?'
'Yeah?'
'You might wanna come and see this.' He starts to head for my bedroom.
'Hey! Whatever it is, it can wait 'till after you've helped me carry my shopping in.' He seems to wrestle with that for a moment, and then comes and drags my stuff into the apartment and me into my bedroom.
And that's where I see her for the first time, lying passed out in my bed. Have you ever wondered what your life would be like if you didn't have superpowers? Well, looking at Barely Legal Hooker Jubilee With Needle-Track Accessories, looking like skin and bones with far too much makeup, I get an idea who I would be.
You could say it's a shock, if you like understatement.