OP: LIGHTS UP! Pretty Cure Perfect Stage!

Valentine looked around as the light faded, leaving only the familiarity of Pageant Park around her. She blinked her newly-red eyes, confused. "Um. Huh?"

Shadow was seething, she could tell that much even though there was no way to look at his expression through that black hood. Meisner, on the other hand, looked delighted. There practically were stars in her eyes… or maybe her pupils were simply always shaped like that, some sort of tell of her magical heritage. "Cure Round!" she exclaimed. "A legendary actor! This is amazing! There hasn't been a legendary actor in-"

"Centuries. For centuries, the Divine Playwrights have not chosen someone to personify the spirit of the stage. For centuries, it's been all hard work… and then you show up and ruin it," Shadow said, his voice twisted nastily. "I will not let this stand! I will not let this get back to Lady Skene!"

"And what are you gonna do about it, Shadow?" taunted Meisner. "She's just as powerful as you, now, and she has me on her side too! Maybe a shrine maiden alone stands no chance, but a shrine maiden and a legendary actor Pretty Cure together? We'll destroy you with a smile!"

Looking down, Valentine… no, Cure Round… examined her new outfit. As she moved her head, she felt her newly lengthened hair swish gracefully. This was like something from one of the stories she had daydreamed up, only she knew she had never daydreamed anything quite like this. Even so, there was only one thing to do. She had to act the hero. Right? "Uh, yeah! What she said! I won't let you threaten anyone, not a single person." Some brief inspiration passed over her, and she posed dramatically, her hands forming a heart over her chest as she tilted her head with a confidence she barely felt. "To you so lacking in entertainment that you would sully the hearts of others in its name, I'll put on a lovely show and bring your smile back for good!"

Meisner looked like she was about to faint from happiness. "Just like in all the Precure stories… even her silly speeches manage to seem cool!"

"Wait, silly?"

"It doesn't matter, just fight him, Cure Round!"

Shadow growled, stepping forward menacingly. "I won't stand for this. It's hardly fair for me to be outnumbered by scene partners." From a pocket in his black pants, he pulled out a tiny spherical gem, which he rolled over in his gloved hands. The black sphere sparkled not with light, but with darkness itself. It was almost as though smoke poured off of it. Like a smoke bomb, he tossed it in front of him as he barked what seemed to be an order. "Dark Prop! Cue Ensomber!"

The gem burst into a pool of darkness. When that dissipated, a giant worm loomed over Cure Round. The worm was dark purple, red, and black, the colors broken up into segments. Though it had no eyes, it seemed to have angry eyebrows. Were it not easily fifteen feet tall, it might have been comical. Shadow laughed to see it, then disappeared as he stepped back into the darkness which he had come from. "Okay, change of plans," said Meisner. "Don't fight him. Fight that!"

"Got it!" said Cure Round with a nod. Echoing her earlier action, she raced forward, ready to punch. As she released her arm and its energy into the slimy worm, it was thrown backwards. Cure Round blinked as she watched it slam into a tree easily twenty feet away. As it did, dust rose from the ground, which now had visible skid marks. "Whoa! Holy-"

"Keep going! It's not yet defeated!" Cure Round reeled up for another punch, but before it could be released, the worm dove headfirst into the ground with a high-pitched cry of "Ensomber!" Round barely managed to pause in time to avoid falling flat on her face. She blinked in surprise and found, when her eyes opened again, that the worm was gone. "Underneath you, Round!" Meisner coached. "It's underground."

"How am I supposed to fight it there?"

The ground rumbled. "Quick," said Meisner. "Dodge it! Jump!"

Round obliged, leaping into the air. Her capelet billowed behind her, seeming to act as a reverse parachute and throwing her up higher, higher, even higher than she expected. She looked around, eyes wide. She was easily at level with the tops of the tallest skyscrapers in Miracopolis. The enormous city was spread out beneath her like a map, from the precisely rectangular and huge Pageant Park to the famous restaurants and shops that lined Vaudeville Avenue. If she looked towards the distance, she could even see her own apartment building, where her mum would be waiting for her to get home. "This is amazing!" she breathed to a couple of passing pigeons, who looked at her as though they could barely believe this was real. Perhaps it wasn't.

With a graceful twirl midair, she began to descend. As she grew closer and closer to the ground, details began to emerge… such as the worm now hovering over Meisner, who looked scared out of her tiny, furry wits. "Hey, Slimey!" called Cure Round. The worm looked up and away from the tiny fairy muse. "What's kickin'?"

Instead of landing properly, her feet slammed into the side of the worm's face. "Ensomber!" it roared in protest as it fell over.

Round jumped back neatly, landing perfectly on the ground. She appraised the helpless-looking monster. So do I just keep beating it up? That seems cruel and unheroic… what would a magical girl in my daydreams do? she asked herself.

She closed her eyes and thought. Magic, of course. I'm no magical girl without magic. In a flash, her eyes shot back open and she unhooked the miniature mask from its place on the charm bracelet. As she threw it into the air, she cried out "Magic… theatre… fatal blow weapon thing!"

The charm sparkled brightly before vanishing and appearing back on her bracelet. "What?" said Cure Round, disappointment leaking into her tone. "That's not what I'm supposed to-"

"Come on," said Meisner. Her voice was encouraging, if impatient. "You're a legendary actor. A beacon of creativity. And that, that's the oldest trick in the book. Try something different. And do it before the Ensomber gets back up, please!"

Sure enough, the wormlike monster was pulling itself up by wrapping around a large tree. Cure Round frowned. How was she supposed to defeat the beast? Be creative, Meisner had inferred. She had to go about this logically before she could go to the creative details, though. Every creative field had to have discipline, and being a magical girl was probably no different. She thought hard. What did she want? She didn't want to kill the monster. No, she would rather defeat it in a harmless way. Something that could hit without really hurting...

For a moment, she came up blank. She sighed, defeated.

"Back in the day, the actors of commedia dell'arte had this thing called a slapstick." Cure Round blinked. A memory was coming to her, of back when she took acting classes as a kid. Her old teacher, Ms. Ursula Hagen, had covered not just acting, but the technical and historical aspects of theatre. Now, those old lessons were giving her an idea. "They looked like they hurt, and people acted like they hurt when they hit, but nobody actually got hurt at all. That's what made it funny and made people laugh."

Cure Round's red eyes glowed with inspiration. "That's it! That's what I want. I'll bring back your smile in a way that's sure to be a hit! Emerge from my dreams! Baton de farce!" She traced a circle in the air with one gloved finger, and from the nothingness emerged a red slapstick with a golden chain attached to it. Cure Round grabbed it and gave it a few quick twirls as though it truly was a baton, then raised it high into the air, aiming it at the monster. "Pretty Cure!" she cried, "Curtain Call!"

With a light hit of the slapstick-like weapon, the Ensomber jumped into the air. "Bravo!" it said dreamily before exploding into a shower of red, gold, purple, and pink sparks that shot into the air like fireworks.

When the dramatics had calmed, Cure Round held a tiny brown-pink earthworm no different than any other. She set it down on the ground and watched it quickly scurry away and into the dirt. It took her a moment to register the sound of clapping. "Bravo! Bravo indeed!" said Meisner, who was, in fact, clapping her little paws together. "What a show, and from a legendary actor too!"

"But what does that mean?" asked Cure Round. "What am I? Who am I? I'm a hero, right? A magical girl?"

"It's kind of a long story. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

Valentine cracked the door to her apartment open and peeked her head inside, hoping to figure out where her mothers were. Jamie, who worked as a stage manager and acting teacher for a small children's theatre company and school downtown, would probably be at work still. It was her mum, Moira, that she had to be concerned about. Moira worked as a writer in almost all capacities, from novels to newspaper articles to poetry to plays. She and Jamie had met twenty-five years ago when she had a brief stint as a theatre critic, and they had been together ever since. Due to her work, Moira was nearly always home when Valentine got home from school. Normally, it was sweet. Today, when Valentine was trying to sneak what looked like a small maned wolf into the house, it wasn't so great.

Meisner peeked into the apartment too, straining her small and furry neck. Valentine shoved her back into the backpack where she'd placed her. "Careful!" she warned.

"Valentine?" called a voice from the kitchen. "Are you home, love? Want a snack? We've got pancakes!"

"Um, no thanks! I'm going to go study for a bit until dinner! I love you! I'll tell you all about the first day when we eat!"

Valentine raced through the hall towards her bedroom at the end. Just before she shut the door, she saw Moira's head emerge from the kitchen. "Study? It's the first day of-"

Collapsing onto the bed, Valentine sighed. "She's going to know something is up, isn't she?"

"Oh for sure!" said Meisner cheerfully. "For a legendary actor, acting isn't really your strong suit, is it?"

"It used to be. When I was a kid. I used to want to be an actor when I grew up. I guess every kid does, though! Lots of competition. It wasn't really realistic."

Meisner hopped out of the schoolbag. She looked confused. "Well," she said, "considering you have massive amounts of creative energy… and that you just turned into a really cool magical girl… I'm kind of surprised that the word realistic is in your vocabulary at all. You kind of struck me as a dreamer."

"I mean. I am. But I'm also a senior in high school. I've got to go to college soon. I have to start thinking about the future and-"

"That's the thing. There's not going to be a future. Not realistically. Of course, if a dreamer were to step up to the plate, maybe we could change that."

Valentine sat up and looked at the fairy muse. Meisner looked incredibly grim. Her small eyes with the odd eyeshines were trained on Valentine's wrist. When Valentine had de-transformed from Cure Round into her normal self, the charm bracelet had stubbornly stayed with her. The odd little mask charm dangled off of it cutely, a reminder of the events of the last two hours. "Meisner, what exactly is going on?" Valentine asked.

"Listen carefully. I'll tell you everything I know."

A long, long time ago, there were no worlds, only a group of eight creative spirits. With nothing to do, they did nothing but dream and bring their dreams to life. Some were quite fleeting, some quite long. That was, and is, the nature of creations. One day, however, the youngest of the creative spirits realized that even the most temporary thing could become a kind of permanent, if it were written and given to the world in the form of words on a page. The eight creators began to record the adventures and people they made. Thus, they became what we now call the Divine Playwrights… creators and recorders of adventure and fate.

Each of the Divine Playwrights fashioned a token of their favorite kind of story. Each was unique to them and took the form of a mask or something similar. After all, the best and most creative stories came from pretending to be something that you were not, or so they figured. And yet, through pretending to be something else, often you discovered your Truest Self. By existing in imagination, one could find out who they were, who they wished to be, what they were willing to do to become that person.

These were the masks that were created.

The mask of musicality.

The mask of elegance.

The mask of modesty.

The mask of whimsy.

The mask of happiness.

The mask of beauty.

The mask of intentionality.

The mask of balance.

Each of these eight masks symbolized not just a genre, but a quality. And each of these masks, if utilized by the right person, could birth a hero or heroine. However, were the person not right… were their heart clouded by anger and sadness and could-never-bes… then instead, they would be naught but a villain or monster. The Divine Playwrights called these the Cure Costumes and said to their newly released worlds that when the time was right, the eight masks would find people who would act in the grandest play to ever be written.

Of course, this was not to be the case. Only a year ago, these masks disappeared one by one, as did the shrine maidens who were tasked to watch over them until the time was right. It was discovered that the thieves were a band of actors called the Masked Players, who wished nothing more than to use the Cure Costumes to become the best actors the universe had ever known… no matter the cost. What they did with these divine items, or with their captured shrine maidens, nobody truly knew. Not even the only two shrine maidens to escape their clutches. Of course, with the power of the Cure Costumes, the play they intend to put on could only be evil.

"The two escaped shrine maidens. One is you, right, Meisner? And the other is the crab?"

"Konstantine," said Meisner quietly. "She's the youngest of us and my dear friend. We were the first two to get targeted. We didn't know what they wanted, what was going on. She hid from them. I ran. We weren't like our other friends. Uta and Stella and Laban… Suzu, Eti, and Viola… oh, they were all brave enough to stand up to the Masked Players. We weren't."

"But if you did, there would be no one to find the Legendary Actors and save the world, right? So you did the right thing."

"We shouldn't have separated."

"We'll find her. She's not far. I can talk to Bronwyn. Maybe."

"Bronwyn?"

"She's- ugh. She's the student government president. Konstantine kind of caught all of the senior class at my school off guard, and Bronwyn was going to release her outside so people wouldn't freak out at a candy apple red crab scurrying all over the place. Bronwyn doesn't like me very much, but if I ask nicely I can probably get some information out of her."

"I'm sure if she knew how important it was for the world, she could hardly say no." Meisner tilted her head as she stood up on the bed. "If we just tell her that the fate of the world is resting on this, how could she disagree?"

"You don't know Bronwyn. She's… she's like… she's like a vampire queen." Valentine's face grew serious. "She's all soft words and pretty looks. Long blonde hair, pale skin, you know the type." From the look on Meisner's face, the fairy muse did not, in fact, know the type. "She pretends to be all nice and then wham! She sucks the life and joy out of you. Or else she turns you into one of her mindless thralls, but she's never been able to make me into one. She's just about as bad as that bad guy we fought earlier. Only I have to actually go to school with her."

Valentine sighed and walked to the window of her room. The view from the twenty-eighth story was gorgeous, overlooking the best parts of Miracopolis… the border of Pageant Park, a bend in the Repertory River, and several other skyscrapers. It was incredible to think that she was now a defender of the city she had lived in since she was three. Not just the city, but the whole world. And yet, she still had to deal with school day bullies. Despite what Meisner said, no way would Bronwyn… or anyone… believe Valentine if she said she had to save the future from a bunch of evil actors. If only they would. Having someone to tell would be nice. Maybe I could convince Carissa… no way would she believe me. Would anyone? Laura-

No. She quickly shook that thought from her mind and turned back to Meisner. Laura was nothing but one of Bronwyn's cronies anymore.

"Well, it can't hurt to ask, can it? I'm sure even a vampire queen can't want the world to be taken over," said Meisner all-too-sensibly.

"She probably doesn't. Not if she's not the one doing it. I'll ask her tomorrow," Valentine said. She looked out upon the city once more. Let's hope she's in a generous mood.

The second day of school was more typical compared to the first. At morning assembly, the students received their class schedules. For a final year schedule, Valentine's wasn't too bad. Her morning was spent in Advanced British Literature, Psychology, Algebra II, and French IV… after lunch, she had Anatomy, Show Choir, and Theatre Arts. She'd been reluctant last year to sign up for theatre after giving acting up years ago, but in light of recent developments, she was glad she had picked it (if only because she had wanted an easy elective).

After the assembly ended, Valentine pushed through the crowds to get to Bronwyn, who seemed to be alone for the moment. "Bronwyn! Bronwyn, can I talk to you?" she called.

Bronwyn walked to the side of the hallway and waited. Though her body language was innocent enough, something in her face seemed hungry, as though she wanted to drink the blood from Valentine. Valentine could almost see fangs and gnarled, leathery bat wings on the girl. As Valentine caught up, she leaned in slightly. Were her eyes red? No, they were normal colors, albeit different colors altogether… one blue, one green. Valentine bit her lip and shifted her gaze towards the wall. If there was one thing that could make Bronwyn lose her cool, it was mention of her heterochromia. Though it looked neat, for some reason the student council president was sensitive about it, and almost everyone knew it.

A beat passed. Bronwyn's eyes narrowed. "What is it that you want?" she asked, and that was when Valentine realized she had gotten distracted.

Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly. "Um, uh. I wanted to ask about the crab from yesterday. What did you do with it? It's safe, right?"

Bronwyn's eyes practically burned holes into Valentine. "I did tell you I would take care of it, didn't I? Rest assured that I told the truth. I'm not lying about it."

"But she's okay, right? She's fine? Where did you put her? I'm just… I'm just wondering. Because a friend asked me." It wasn't untrue.

Tilting her head, Bronwyn frowned. There was a note of teenage cruelty to it. Valentine tried not to break eye contact, to show fear. Vampire queens thrived on fear. "If you must know, I handed it off to Odette Undergrove." Bronwyn paused, but when it became obvious that Valentine had no clue who that was, she continued. "The junior. Her parents run Undergrove Animal Rescue on Mechane Avenue. She seemed like the most apt person to take care of the problem."

"Odette Undergrove," Valentine repeated. She would have to remember that. "Okay! Thanks, Bronwyn! You're a big help!"

"Of course," said Bronwyn, and it sounded more like "Of course I am," than an acknowledgment.

Valentine grinned as she started off to her first class. Inside, she made a mental list. At lunch, I'll try to find this Odette first. I bet if I ask nicely, she'll let me come visit her family's rescue. And if not, hey, Meisner's from some marvelous and magical acting planet, right? I bet she can fake being a wild fox or maned whatever for long enough for us to get into the rescue, find Konstantine, and get back out. And if that fails, hey, I'm some kind of magical girl superhero. If I show up as Cure Round and ask for the crab, what are they going to do, turn me down? I've got this in the bag!

EYECATCH 1: Valentine twirls in a Romeo-esque outfit on a large proscenium stage. A bubble pops, and it's revealed she's been daydreaming in class. She smiles sheepishly as the logo appears.

EYECATCH 2: Cure Round does a deep bow and flourishes her Baton de Farce. Meisner falls on her head and Cure Round drops, obviously dizzy. The logo appears on screen with a cute musical fanfare.

It took about twenty-five people and ten minutes from lunch before Valentine managed to locate Odette Undergrove. Not many people seemed to know about this mysterious eleventh grade student. The few who did seemed surprised that Valentine would even ask. Finally, someone dropped Valentine a critical clue. "She's almost always with Robin Wesley, you know. Robin's kind of adopted her."

Robin Wesley was someone much easier to find. Also a junior, she was known around school for doing about as many activities that she could fit into her schedule. She was on the volleyball team with Carissa, in the school orchestra where she played the cello, was the president of the school yearbook committee and the school newspaper, and still managed to find time to volunteer and to study, as she was a confirmed member of the school honor society. There was no way that she wasn't getting into the college of her choice. Universities were going to be practically climbing over each other to try to get to her, and everyone knew it.

The moment Valentine knew to ask, "Hey, where's Robin?" she was pointed to a round table in the corner of the cafeteria. Though the tables usually fit eight people comfortably, there were at least twelve crammed around this one. True to Robin, they ranged from the sporty girls to the obvious academics, each chatting with each other. Robin herself seemed to be managing to follow all of the three or four conversations going on, moving effortlessly from one to the other. Her dark eyes switched from person to person, almost alight with curiosity. Still, she did not neglect the one person at the table who was silent, her complete opposite who was sat right next to her. Robin's dark hand was placed upon this girl's pale white one. Valentine put two and two together. Odette.

Everything about Odette was snow-pale. Her skin, her hair, even her uniform shirt looked crisp and bleached. She sat stiffly next to an animated Robin, her periwinkle eyes trained down on her sandwich and carton of milk. If Bronwyn was an ice queen, Odette was a snow princess. There were no hard edges to be found here, only softness, although there was still something cold and distant about this girl (at least for now). Or perhaps, considering her name, a swan princess was a better way to spin the story. Odette was shy and caught in some sort of curse to make her so tense… awaiting some tragedy that Valentine hoped would never happen. In some versions of Swan Lake, after all, Odette had a happy ending. Why couldn't this be one of them?

And happy endings often started with friends, didn't they?

Valentine walked up behind Robin and Odette. "Hi, how are you doing?" she asked with a big smile.

Everyone looked at her. Robin grinned. "Oh, hi, Valentine! We're a little cramped, but if you want to sit here, I can move over-"

"No need, I just had a question for Odette, actually."

Immediately the table quieted. Odette's eyes grew big, and she ducked her head nervously. "O-oh, I… um…"

"What do you need?" Robin cut in smoothly.

"Your parents run an animal rescue, right? Bronwyn told me. Could I maybe come in and see some of the animals? There's this, well, there's this crab, and she looks kind of funny, but she's really important to a friend of mine, and I think she ended up at your- uh, are you guys alright?" It took a moment for Valentine to register the faces of the people around her, glaring as though she had done something absolutely taboo. "Did I say something?"

"Since when do you talk to Bronwyn?" Robin's smile was almost forced. "Did she send you?"

"No, of course not. I mean, not usually. But she was the one who took the crab, and I really need to find it and-"

"She didn't give Odette a crab," Robin said firmly. Odette ducked her head even more, her white hair spilling over her shoulders and hiding her face. "I can't imagine Bronwyn giving Odette anything besides a hard time. I don't think you know that she's not as nice as she seems but look, we don't like to talk about her around here, okay?" Despite her words, she seemed impatient and a tad angry. Valentine shrunk into herself. It was as though she, the valiant hero prince, had accidentally set off a trap. The glares that the girls at the table gave her were like arrows that pierced her heart and killed her joy.

"Sorry," Valentine said, feeling a little stupid. "I didn't know that- I mean, I know she can be a real- I mean, sorry."

"It's okay," said a soft voice. Odette was peering up from out of her curtains of hair. "It's okay, really. I'm just being sensitive…"

Valentine frowned. "No, no, it's fine! Your feelings are totally valid, and it's really cool of everyone to be on board with that. I promise I'm not in cahoots with her or anything."

It was Robin who peered at Valentine, considering. After a moment, she nodded. "Yeah, sorry for jumping down your throat. Odette didn't talk to Bronwyn at all, though, obviously. You got bad information, Valentine. No, what was it, a crab? No crab here."

"Well, thanks," said Valentine with a sigh. She started to head for the other end of the cafeteria and her friends there, but not without a glance backwards at the other group. Odette's head was up a little bit, enough for Valentine to see that the girl's eyes were trained on her curiously. She never said a word. I wonder…

But what reason would she have to not correct Robin? Valentine shrugged and put the situation out of her head. She was back to square one, it seemed, but it was only the first day of looking for Konstantine. There was no reason to worry, or stress, or make up silly ideas in her head to explain other people's actions. She would just have to find another way of getting answers.

As soon as Valentine left the school grounds of Parados Academy, she unzipped her bag all the way and let Meisner pop out. The tiny fairy muse took a deep breath of fresh air. "It's cramped in there! And how can your supplies be so messy on the second day of school, anyway?" she demanded. "Did you clean out your bag at all over the summer?"

"I did, really! It's not my fault that there's all this paperwork on the first few days…"

Meisner huffed. "But you really could keep it all in a folder. Look at this one," she said, pulling out a video and photo recording permission form. It was already half crumpled into a ball. "Your mothers have to sign this! Couldn't you be more organized?"

Valentine closed her eyes briefly, trying to let her creative spirit whisk her away to a world where she was perfectly organized… she'd be a lawyer, or a president, or… nah. None of it was coming to her. "I can't even imagine it," she said with a shrug, taking the permission slip and shoving it into her slacks pocket.

With a sigh, Meisner climbed out of the bag and onto Valentine's shoulder. At first, Valentine wondered if she should insist that Meisner stay mostly hidden, but then she thought. If there was one thing she knew about Miracopolis, it was that it was one of those big cities where nothing was ever truly "weird." Every day when she walked to school, or when she got on the subway, she would see something plenty of people would stare at, but by the time she got where she was going, she'd have forgotten about it. That was just how the city worked. Nobody would do more than blink twice at a tiny golden maned wolf sitting on the shoulder of a girl in a private school uniform here.

"I hope that you don't have a lot of plans for the coming weeks," said Meisner. "We're going to need to plot our first moves. Now that I know you're a legendary actor, there's a lot of ideas I have to save the world."

"I'm always happy to help, Meisner. It's kind of my thing. But please tell me one of these ideas is "getting other people to also help," because saving the world is kind of a big deal and I'm not even old enough to vote yet, and that's about the smallest form of saving the world that a person can do."

"Well… if there were other Cure Costumes in our control, it would be easy… the other option is that I could create a Role Gem, but-"

"What's a Role Gem?"

"It's a little diamond-shaped magical item that shrine maidens of the Divine Playwrights can make every full moon. It gives people powers similar to the Pretty Cure, but not as powerful. If I had thought about it, I would have made one last night, but…"

Valentine groaned. "Oh yeah. The full moon was last night, wasn't it? That means I'm on my own for an entire month?"

"Not entirely! You have me, right?"

"No offense, Meis, but you're about a foot tall. You aren't exactly the most menacing, or up for an epic battle against an evil diva puppeteer."

Meisner huffed.

Valentine laughed at the sight of the little maned wolf, sitting on her shoulder and pouting. It was almost enough to distract her from the darkening sky, and a swirling black portal of smoke forming just outside of Pageant Park. Her laughter tapered off. "Oh no."

"Oh yes, dear," chuckled a hooded villain as he stepped out from the smoke. "I've come to reclaim what I've lost, little fairy muse… and annoying little legendary actor."

"Shadow? Again?" Valentine sighed. "I have got to stop taking this route home if the villains are going to attack me here every time."

Meisner shook her little head. "No, don't, Valentine! Isn't it better to be where the villains are? So that you can protect civilians?"

"I guess you're right," Valentine said, a little sigh ending the statement. "Well, nothing we can do about it now anyway. Here we go!" She unlinked the tiny golden charm of her bracelet, and in her hand it grew into a full-sized red mask, which she waved tauntingly at the Masked Player. "I won't let you blackout this scene, Shadow! Pretty Cure! Endow my world!" She placed the mask on her face as she began to transform, calling her next line as she moved: "With comedy and smiles, let's go! It's showtime!"

After a few moments, it was a more magical girl who stepped out on her heel and rested her hands on her hips in a proud pose. "A beacon of good cheer and fun times! Live on stage… enter, Cure Round!"

"Cure Round," sneered Shadow. "It's ever too bad my Ensomber couldn't manage to finish you off, but it was a weaker one, after all. No more than a distraction. We have ever so many tricks up our sleeves in the Gangrene Room. Lady Skene is a kind mistress to come up with all of these new toys for us to play with. Unfortunately, you'll only be seeing a few of them!"

He reached into his pocket and brought out a gem. The gem was diamond-shaped and black, and it did not seem to shine, but rather to eat the light around it, causing an odd, dark aura. "That's not a Cure Costume or a Dark Prop, he's right," said Meisner with a confused blink. "That's a… a… a…"

"A Role Gem," said Shadow proudly. "Created from magic and creativity to enable someone to become something or someone they aren't. Didn't you fairy muses start to create these centuries ago? On the full moon, right?"

"B-but a Role Gem looks like-"

"Oh, these are no ordinary Role Gems. These are the Role Gems created by Lady Skene. In all her power, she can make many at once, and anytime she wants, unlike you fairy muses. They're hardly rare anymore, and oh so fun to corrupt. They're just so perfect to make the actors of the World of Stages into the ideal antagonists!"

With a wild and wicked smile, he crushed the gem into black powder and blew it into the air. "Role Gem! Cue Ensomber!" he ordered.

The black dust flew in a curving, delicate line, carried on the wind. After a moment, it hit a rosebush that climbed up one of Pageant Park's ancient light posts. As the dust absorbed into it, Cure Round stared at it. After a moment, it jerked outwards, and two rosebuds opened to reveal eyes that were black and cruel. The rosevine… no… the Ensomber yanked its roots from the ground, and Cure Round saw that they were legs.

"Let's go, Meisner!" she said, and she jumped up and away from the now lunging rose monster, landing gracefully on another one of the light posts. Dramatically, she pointed at the Ensomber. "Flowers should be given at the end of the performance! They're not supposed to be given during the show! We'll show you proper theatre etiquette, o pained soul!"

On her shoulder, Meisner tried to stifle laughter. "You really should work on your dramatic speeches if you're going to give them."

"What? I thought that one was good!"

As Cure Round sulked slightly, the Ensomber whipped one of its vine-arms out. "Cure Round, look out!" cried Meisner, and Round barely managed to jump out of its reach in time. The Ensomber didn't hesitate before making another swipe with the same arm, then another, then another, another, another. The movement was almost rhythmic, and Cure Round felt extremely grateful for all of the musicals she had been in as a child. She knew just when to jump out of the way.

Shadow, for his part, seemed to be stewing. "Don't play jump rope with her! Destroy her! Or capture her! Do something evil!" he yelled.

The Ensomber seemed to wilt for a moment before firming up. It moved both arm vines and a leg into the dance, which Cure Round was sure was unfair. She felt like she was moving faster than the speed of light trying to dodge it all. Just as she was sure she was going to tire out, it all stopped.

Then, with no warning, the Ensomber kicked her back.

Cure Round skid on the ground, five feet, ten, fifteen, twenty. A long line was made where the grass was stripped from her skidding. She winced in pain, though her first thought was Hopefully, the magic of my costume means there can't be grass stains.

"Are you okay, Meisner?" she asked through grit teeth. The fairy muse was holding on, digging tiny claws into the padding on Cure Round's shoulders.

"Yes, are you?"

"I'm-"

"Now, Ensomber!" ordered Shadow.

The Ensomber waved its arms and shot thorns, dozens of them. They were gigantic. One by one, they started to land, sharp side down. Cure Round dodged each one until… "It's a trap!" said Meisner, too late. The giant thorns surrounded the two of them. Before she could jump out of the trap, a large leaf capped the thorns, creating a ceiling. Round jumped up and tried to punch it out of place, but the Ensomber leaned on it casually, keeping it down.

"Finish her off at your leisure, my monster," cackled Shadow. "Then wreak havoc. My work here is done… but have no worries, I'll check in later to get the fairy muse. Whatever you do to the heroine, don't ruin the Cure Costume, and don't let the shrine maiden escape!."

"Get back here, you!" Meisner said as he disappeared into a smoke portal without looking back. "Oh, Cure Round, this is terrible! What am I going to do?"

"We're going to get out of this. You're small enough to get through the bars. Shadow sure wasn't thinking that through, was he?"

As though it was listening… perhaps it was… the Ensomber stretched. Vines grew from its arms and wrapped around the giant thorns until the flowery cell was impossible to escape, though still easy to see through. Meisner shot Cure Round a fed up look. "Wonderful," she said sarcastically.

Cure Round paced back and forth. "No worries, we'll get out of this," she said. "We're going to get a chance to escape. The Ensomber's going to have to try to kill me eventually. Wow. I really don't like thinking about that."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know, Meis, I-"

"Villain of flowers and heartbreak, I hear your sorrow. I will free you from the misery that was sprinkled upon you!"

"Huh?" said Meisner and Cure Round together.

They looked around for the voice, finding it through the cracks in the prison when it spoke again, light and delicate sounding. "To make a flower ugly is the hardest and most reprehensible thing that one can do!"

"Whoa, who is that?" said Cure Round, looking at the speaker.

The girl had the palest skin and hair, white as snow. Her eyes were red-pink and shone in the light. She wore a dress of white and pink feathers and frills… it was almost too busy, but not quite. Everything about her screamed lovely, except perhaps the determined frown on her face. "A curse against evil that dances in aeternum! I am White Swan!" she cried. Her voice sounded oddly familiar, but there was a layer of distortion to it, or perhaps more of a haze. Try as she might, Cure Round couldn't quite place who the voice might belong to.

"Another Pretty Cure?" Cure Round asked Meisner, looking down with curiosity in her eyes.

Meisner shook her head. "No… she's something else… a heroine who emerged from an uncorrupted Role Gem. A real Role Gem... hopefully that means that Konstantine…"

"Let's go! May I have this lovely dance, o villain of roses?" cried the girl. She darted forward with supernatural speed and began to punch and kick. Where Cure Round had been mainly on the defensive, caught off guard, this heroine seemed to take a more direct approach. It was the Ensomber who was caught off guard this time. If one could lose a dance, the monster certainly was. Though it struggled to keep up, it slowly failed. Hit after hit connected, kick after punch after pummel. Then, gracefully and ever a dancer, this heroine White Swan kicked her leg up so high that her knee nearly met her nose, sending the Ensomber toppling backwards.

"Ensomber!" it cried out.

White Swan did not truly smile, but the hint of such an expression played on her face. "Emerge from my dreams," she said, her voice a low order. "Lame d'élégance!" In her hand appeared a bone-white rapier that sparkled like the stars. "Fortissimo Reverence!"

With a twirl and a flourish, she aimed it at the Ensomber and seemed to be trying to pierce its heart. However, at the last second, the weapon stopped, merely tapping the monster instead. Thousands of tiny pink and white hearts emerged from the blade and enveloped the Ensomber into what was nearly a hug. As the monster cried "Bravo!" the heroine showed off a deep curtsey, and by the time she rose, the battle was over.

The thorns around Cure Round and Meisner faded as the flower curled back into its normal, tiny form around a different lamp post- hopefully, no one would notice that, or the giant grassless streak in the park, or the many holes in the ground from where the giant thorns had once pierced. As they dusted themselves off, White Swan watched impassively.

Round ran up to her as soon as she felt presentable. "You're a heroine too?" she said. "I didn't know there was anyone but me! This is great! How did you become a hero? Do you know Konstantine? The little tiny red crab? Are you-"

"No questions. Please. This is a- a secret identity. I'm not going to let you get too close, so don't even try," said White Swan, taking a step back. Her eyes were guarded, her expression firm.

"But we're on the same side? We're both fighting the Ensombers, right? Do you know about the Masked Players and Lady Skene?" pressed Round. "Do you know about the Cure Costumes? Have you seen one? What are the Role Gems like? Do you know how they can become corrupt-"

"I said no questions, please. I have to go. You should improve your fighting; I may not be able to rescue you next time." White Swan hesitated, then nodded politely. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Cure Round. I will not work with you, but it is a comfort to know I'm not alone. Not fully, anyway."

"Do you know that makes no sense at all?" Cure Round threw her hands up in the air, her eyes searching the sky as though an answer would fall out of it. "Won't work with me? But you don't want to be alone-"

She stopped suddenly at a sound of moving air. Her eyes went downwards, only to find that White Swan was gone. In the distance, her tiny figure moved through the city rapidly. It took only seconds until she was out of sight.

Valentine paced rapidly around her room. "There's too many mysteries. What will the Masked Players do next? Where is Konstantine? Who is White Swan? Meisner, how am I supposed to solve this? I'm barely able to keep my school schedule in order, let alone save the world single handed!" With a groan, she flopped onto her bed. "I'm doomed. I'm going to dieeeeeee…"

"You're being over dramatic."

"But I'm a legendary actor, so it's okay. I'm supposed to be dramatic."

Meisner sighed. "Come on, cheer up. It's not as hopeless as you think. Whether or not this new heroine is on our team, she's certainly on our side. That should count for something until we can recover more Cure Costumes. Shouldn't it?"

"I guess…" It didn't make her feel much better. Who could the mysterious hero even be? She knew that the voice was familiar…

"I know what will make you feel better. Music. Performing arts always cheer me up," Meisner said. Her little voice was decided.

Valentine raised her head up enough to see the tiny fairy muse climb from the bed onto Valentine's end table and use her tiny paws to turn the volume up on her clock radio. The station playing was the local college radio station, Valentine's personal favorite due to the wide variety and the sense of humor that the DJs had. Even now, one of them seemed to be deep in a one-sided conversation. "Not that we do a lot of news here at WSHN, but it's the beginning of the semester and we're already staring out the window more than concentrating on classes apparently, and someone noticed something interesting. Apparently, two mysterious women in costume have been walking the streets of Miracopolis… and they can fly, or something. Thanks for the anonymous tip, but whoever sent that in, maybe next time throw us a few pictures or something as proof? Oh right. This is the radio. Well, we'll put them up on our website, or something."

"Ahem. Anyway, we've got more of your favorites, both local and national on tap this afternoon, starting with some Rebecca Walker and the Flash. Later, we've got Doramaid and our very own White Swan. You're listening to the Procrastination Station here on WSHN 101.6 FM."

Meisner and Valentine looked at each other as the music began. "Could that be the same-"

"How many people are going by the name White Swan?" Valentine asked. "It's not that common."

"Which means that the pop star could be the hero."

"And that the hero could be someone I know. Or at least, someone who's voice I've heard."

"So that narrows it down."

"To my entire school, my entire family, everyone from my mom's theater who I've met, every cashier I've ever talked to at a store, and all of the WSHN DJs."

The two of them looked at each other. Then, they burst out laughing. "Well," said Meisner, "it's not much, but it's a start. We'll meet her again for sure. I know it. And then, maybe we can figure it out and get some answers. Even just knowing where Konstantine is would be a start, right?"

Valentine nodded. "I'm sure she's fine. White Swan seemed nice, just a little skittish. And if she's hiding a secret this big, who wouldn't be?"

"Right. For now, let's put it out of our minds. That DJ reminded me, Valentine. Procrastination isn't good, do you have any homework besides getting those papers signed?"

"What are you, my mom? I don't need a third one!"

In the Gangrene Room, the Masked Players gathered around their table. Sitting in the middle was what almost seemed to be a gacha machine, though it was black, grey, and red. Inside, a number of black and diamond shaped gems seemed to fester. Artu smiled under his tragedy mask, even as Shadow hung his head. "Don't think of it as a failure, dear friend," he said. "The more of those pesky little heroes we lure out early, the easier it will be later on."

"To destroy them?" asked Madam Dangerfield.

"Unlikely. Lady Skene wants us to convert them. What kind of a show we can put on with four actors… imagine if the company had six!" Artu's smile grew. "Dear Shadow, you've far from failed, truly. Perhaps you can even lure out more with these delightful Role Gems."

"Maybe we could fully cast a musical," joked Pandora. "A symphony of actors who want the world to know their name."

When Shadow remained quiet, Artu frowned. "It must be a dent on your pride. Perhaps it is time to call in an understudy. Pandora, why don't you take the next mission and snuff those antagonists who call themselves the legendary actors out? We'll show them who the true legendary actors are. I would do it myself, but I need to remain here to keep the fairy muses in line. Do you know I caught the new one trying to summon the Divine Playwrights for help?"

"They won't come," said Madam Dangerfield.

"Of course not, but I'd hate to see what else she thinks up. Whether or not they're in cages, having six fairy muses under one roof could be a problem. But Lady Skene insists, and she is the director…"

"It makes one worry about having all eight together," said Pandora."

"Oh, on the contrary. Once all eight have gathered, we can truly begin Lady Skene's grand plan. I'm not worried about that at all."

ED: Happiness Smile Objective

MEISNER: And now, it's time for the theatre term of the episode! Today, we're going to learn about the term "break a leg."

VALENTINE: Which is fitting, because people tell actors that all the time, and as legendary actor Cure Round, sometimes I get to do it to the monsters!

MEISNER: In theatre, it's considered bad luck to tell a performer "good luck." Instead, we say "break a leg." Nobody for sure knows the definite origin of the term… one legend says it refers to bowing and stretching your legs as you complete a show successfully. Another says it hails from the days when you only got paid if you appeared on the stage… aka, past the "legs" of the curtains, aka "breaking the legs." There are other legends, too. Whatever the truth, it's considered common courtesy to say this instead of good luck.

WHITE SWAN: Dancers (and some people in musicals) do this too, but instead of "break a leg," they say-

MEISNER: A certain French word we're not going to say on the air because it means something that is not suitable for family entertainment!

VALENTINE: Wow! There's lots to learn about the world of performance. Tune in next episode for another adventure and another theatre term! Bye!

WHITE SWAN: Now that I've made my debut as a heroine, it's time for me to show up as a pop star.

MEISNER: This could be our best chance to talk to her. Come on, Valentine!

VALENTINE: What? A concert? Sounds fun, count me in!

MEISNER: Hey, this is official Precure business, not just a fun night out. Let's act like it!

VALENTINE: No problem, acting is what I do best. Next time on Pretty Cure Perfect Stage… "Lights Up! A Late Summer Night's Dream!"

MEISNER: We'll put on a dreamy show just for you!