Anneza was feeling very restless. It took a moment to recall that she was back at her parent's house, and resting on (or rather above) the couch. She opened her eyes... and was greeted by the ceiling. Annoyed, she swayed her hips a little to move her body in a way that was becoming uncomfortably familiar, as her breasts strained to the side uncomfortably. She just brushed past the old light bulb hanging on a wire.
Meeting her father was... strange. In her mind she was still that same person, even if outwardly she was now this... thing. She wasn't able to convey her thoughts easily to him, and there was none of their usual argument. She was unable to justify to her parents how she lived her life- but neither how grateful she was at their kindness, in letting her stay here. They didn't have to... did they? Just because they happened to be her parents. Still... this was nice...
She decided to turn on the televeision, noting with a little nostalgia that her parents had the same set for over 30 years. It even had a little dial on it. She watched a bit of the late evening news and saw Jay, with her interview of that professor seeking a cure. She couldn't quite recall his name, but he was certainly not the only one trying to find an explanation for all this. What did catch her eye though, was how quick Jay went for the kill. To put him on the spot. She didn't need to understand the language to see how good she was... after all she had encouraged that instinct to the managers, right? Though she did try to get her fired, the wild fox was just too much... what would she do with the business, Anneza started to wonder. The business she grew... it belonged to her... but right now, she didn't even want to be anywhere near it. The shame of not being able to communicate any more, made her feel so ...
... depressed.
Were it not for her new friends, what would have happened to her? She dare not think about it... she owed Ellen and Will so much. What exactly did she get from those people she worked for? Not a single thing... just a good bye, no work for you. You're done. Even though she had done everything they asked...
She got exactly what she deserved.
It was getting a little late outside, but... Anneza decided, she needed to go out. She snapped her body vertically and ran her hands down her dress, noting how the pleasantly smooth fabric never creased- whatever the space-material was. She glanced hap hazardously at her cleavage, like it was some kind of dangerous explosive connected to her. She wasn't really used to looking at her body too closely. But the need to do something was there. She wasn't sure why. Was it because she was back in the place of her youth, in a body that was also relatively younger then she had been?
She knew a bar close by that she used to go to as a man. She hoped it was still friendly. It was actually the place she made her decisions in life. Getting up, she decided she should leave a note- and got half way before she realised, to her parents it would be complete gibberish. Never mind, they knew she would come back later. She just had to get out of here a bit, and clear her head. A drink would fix that... it usually did.
Normally she would wonder what to wear. She would rather she could wear some kind of shoe... not really sure why, she tried to wear a pair of slippers that must belong to her mother- but when she tried, first they were too big.. and second, she found she couldn't quite move in them right. They grounded her and were awkward enough that she had a weird 'bounce' in her walk. As if she were 'space walking'. She put the shoes away, sighing. This body was so complicated.
She did wish she could show less of her legs and chest though, but didn't want to risk another electrical explosion. The bar at this time would probably have mostly normal humans around and they tended to scare easy. She did wet her hair though, and gave it a little brush. Long hair (relatively) was such a pain. Maybe she should try cutting it tomorrow? It was always in her mind, but the thought of scissors being near her antenna and that sharp pain she experienced... it was enough to just forget about doing that, and let the hair be.
Looking fairly presentable, she floated to the window, and with a simple push of her feet fell out the safe threshold that was her parent's house. She kept at street level, and tried to give at least a vague illusion of walking when she saw someone might be looking at her. Though it was a rather quiet night.
Feeling a bit better at the crisp evening air, she floated towards the bar.
Becca glanced around a bit nervously, though Mikey right now felt very assuring. "I- I'm told three is cause- it's my number. I'm a Magic Girl Three." She explained though saying it made her feel like she was confronting the situation and all that it would entail, instead of just reacting to it which is what she felt she had been doing. But then, she was only a young child. Reacting is a perfectly reasonable state of being. She couldn't easily stop to just think, as they were doing now. It felt rather nice to do.
Mikey look with with some curiosity to what Becca had said. Magic being real seemed quite reasonable. She wasn't sure if it was simply the way her body acted with its 'logic' functions. But if Becca had some form of magic... what was the extent of it? "What does three mean exactly?" Asked the robot girl.
"It- I guess it's the source of my magic?" Said Becca unsure. How exactly could a single number be the source of magic? It didn't really make any sense. What would make sense though is if... she were here to guard something. Or someone. She just didn't know who or why yet.
Mikey placed her hand onto the young girls head assuringly. "I'm sure I can help you Becca. But you gotta trust us."
"Us?" Becca asked a little worried. "Y-you mean we gotta tell everyone else?" The young girl seemed a bit reluctant of that. Though it probably would be a good idea, though she couldn't help but think the less that knew the better it would be.
Mr Gordon was on the phone a little annoyed. he had just found out where the 'statistics' were coming from. Someone had used his own research and decided to interpret the numbers in their own way. The media had ran with it with glee, as a way of estimating how many changed there were. "You can't use that model!" Said the scientist on the phone. "It's completely inaccurate for this- it was based on a pandemic!"
The voice reacted calm and collected, though clearly a bit annoyed.
"Yes it is in the public domain, but it has my name on it. That model was made to simulate a pandemic flu involving a virus. All you've done is put in zero casualties and 100% virulence. It's a completely inaccurate model of how things are in reality." If it's one thing Gordon could not stand it was bad science. But worse was bad science being used by other people, in his own name. He created that program to show just how deadly a pandemic could be, in the modern world. It was a very simple program... but it was not applicable at all in the current crisis. "I know I can't stop you from using it- but if you don't put some kind of warning I will make a statement. I may look bad for this, but you will even worse at the end."
There was a pause and then a few further words.
Gordon for a while seemed placated and nodded. "That would be best. Thank you." He put the phone down with annoyance. People just did things without thinking! It was an honest mistake... but hell. Although he did wonder how many changed there were in the world, he suspected the curve was of a high incidence at first, then very low as people became aware. A very sharp exponential... but then, he could be wrong. The man suddenly had a feeling... of something not being completely right. He left the study, unsure quite how he was feeling this.
He went to his new daughter's room, and saw that she wasn't in her bed. He felt rising panic when he saw the window open- then relaxed as he saw her curled up onto the branch that extended from the tree. She seemed... calm? It brought a little smile to the middle aged man. It was nice to see his daughter a little happy for once. Gordon wondered if he should bring her back in, but decided to let her be. He was then interrupted by the meowing sound of a cat.
"And who are you?" He asked confused at the pink furred creature.
Meow
