114: Fate’s Hand

Catherine’s POV

CW: Two mentions of self unaliving.

“What are you doing here?” a hissing, grating voice asked, causing me to instinctively wilt inwards. It was only the large cardboard box I was carrying that kept me from trying to cringe myself into a shape like a scrunched up paper towel.

Turning around slowly, I greeted the withering and hateful bitch known as Rhea. Of course, I didn’t call her that out loud. That would’ve been very scary.

Glancing back and forth between the LGBTQIA+ Clubhouse and her, I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. Anything I said would just end with her telling me that I didn’t belong.

It was a week since the robots and Fennimore had attacked, and things were starting to get back to whatever normal was these days. Ryn’s grove bustled with activity as the newly minted Knights of Eleos trained under drill sergeant Troy. He’d even roped Ryn and me into doing some basic training stuff, using the excuse that if we were ever without our magic, we could still function out in the wild.

Anyway, the reason I was heading into the clubhouse of what everyone was now calling the Circle of Queers… I had a whole bunch of hormones to deliver to the various trans people in there.

“Making a delivery,” I said, not bothering to hide my impatience. “Did you need something, Rhea?”

God, what was that sneer she had on her face? It looked like she was chomping down on lemons while she spoke. “Yes, Kit, I don’t think they need your—”

“Your thoughts don’t matter,” I said, interrupting her self righteous nattering. “You aren’t one of their members, and you aren’t in any position of power. You, your thoughts, and your opinions, are all irrelevant. Have a good day.”

With that, I turned and pressed in through the door to find a large bearded man with olive skin running for the door. “Sorry Cat, sorry. I was just taking a bio break from guarding the door and she snuck up again.”

He didn’t stop to hear my response, instead barrelling outside with a growl already rumbling up out of his chest. “Fuck off, Rhea. We don’t want you here!”

I grinned and watched him chase her off through the door. Ayyan was a good dude. Born in Algeria, his parents had moved to the USA when he was very young, fleeing ethnic violence. It was a good thing they had, too, because their son had turned out to be very, very gay. Not that any of that really mattered anymore. We weren’t even on Earth anymore, let alone Kansas.

Following the hallway past the reception desk, I idly counted the diamonds on the fading carpet until I came to the door with the transgender flag on it, then pushed it open with a slight exerting of my will.

“Cat!” someone blurted, bolting up out of her seat in a blur of long, messy brown hair to run and grab the box from me. Of course, since she was a nerdy trans woman who barely exercised, she almost dropped it. “Fuck, what did you put in this thing? Bricks?”

Her name was Lily, because every third trans girl is called Lily, and she was one of the people who’d been most desperate to get back on hormones. Although, this was the first time she’d been present for a delivery.

“Yes,” I replied, trying to keep a straight face.

She gave me a quizzical look. “What?”

“Yes, there are bricks in there,” I giggled, patting the box that wobbled precariously in her arms.

“Lily, come put it down on the table before you drop it,” Aiden said, shooing her towards the bruised and stained coffee table in the middle of the room. “Don’t want you dropping my T.”

“Is it tea again?” Cris asked, the other of the two trans men who always haunted the building like some sort of pale british bodybuilding ghost. “So fucking glad we don’t have to shove needles into ourselves now.”

I nodded and moved over to pull the box open, revealing the bricks of compressed tea leaves. “It is tea again, yes.”

“Wait, they’re actually bricks?” Lily asked, picking one of them up and staring at it like it was some alien artefact.

Cris laughed and pulled the brick out of her hands. “Yes, and that one is T, so it’s best if you don’t touch it.”

Man did have a point too, it was highly concentrated stuff. I doubted she’d be able to absorb it through her skin, but better safe than sorry.

“How come I didn’t know about that?” she asked, frowning with one hand on her hip. Despite being around 6 feet tall, she was less than intimidating with her beanpole figure. Cris was like her opposite. A little on the short side, but thick as a tree trunk and just as sturdy.

Cris rolled his eyes while he began to stack the bricks in a cupboard. “Because I make the tea for you, rather than let you ruin it.”

“Har har,” Lily chuckled, pushing past me to head for the door. “Can you make us some tea, though? I’ll go get Amara.”

I turned to watch her leave, then smiled back at the guys. “Uh… well, I guess I’ll head out then? If you need anything else, let us know.”

Aiden gave me a look and walked over to take my hand. “Come on, Catherine. You can stay and hang out. You’re one of us, after all.”

I stared down at his hand for a second, confused. Realising he’d just kinda grabbed me, he dropped it again. “Ah… sorry. You should stay, though. You’re one of us, after all!”

Looking around the cosy, vaguely run-down room with its threadbare sofas and hastily patched holes in the wall, I considered the idea. I knew all of these people on a more impersonal level, but what if I like… actually hung out with them?

Making my decision, I tiptoed over to the nearest sofa and sat down. Oh, gosh. It was really soft.

I must have let out a sigh of contentment, because Aiden chuckled, “I know right? It’s why we still keep these ratty old sofas around. So comfy.”

Wiggling my way into the squishy sofa goodness further, I silently nodded in agreement. I deserved a rest with how much I've been working recently.

The door shoved open a moment later, and the tall tawny and chaotic Lily was followed by the tall, dark and brooding Amara. She was someone I’d spoken to in passing a few times, but other than that I had no idea what she was like. As usual, my introverted nature had kept me all nice and safe within my friend group, where the people didn’t drain my social battery quite as badly.

Her outward physical expression was much more in line with what many girls from the Circle looked like. Naturally dark hair flowed down her back for a year’s worth of growth, before fading purple dye took over. Her right ear held at least four piercings one of which was a bar through the top part. I think it was referred to as an industrial. Anyway, she was honestly quite pretty, in a very stabby way.

“Oh, hello Catherine,” she said, her words welcoming, even as I saw something behind her eyes that was far less so.

I smiled self consciously up at her, unsure what to do with my hands. “Hey. I was just delivering the tea.”

“Thanks,” she said curtly, crossing the room to where Cris was making the tea in question. She slotted in to help him without a word.

Was she mad at me? Had I done something wrong? Why were people so fucking difficult? I wanted to escape back into my grove right then and there, even if all Amara had done was flash me a frosty shoulder. Was I being too sensitive?

Aiden, oblivious to the internal beatdown I was getting from my insecurities, leaned back with a sigh and shot me a grin. “I gotta say it again, but I’m so fucking glad you and Ryn got back here. I was going to throw myself off a cliff if I had to keep going without hormones. I was starting to get… shit happening that I didn’t enjoy.”

At that, Amara turned around and pointed a knife at the boy. “Pay up, bitch. You know the rules. No suicidal ideation talk outside of therapy thursdays.”

Wait, where did she get a knife? Knives weren’t for making tea. What the hell was a therapy thursday?

Groaning, he heaved himself up out of the sofa and thumped over to the corner of the room where there was a jar half full of copper Avonside credits. He dropped one into it, where it clinked and rattled around like some sort of wordless recrimination.

“Aiden is right, though,” Cris said, continuing where his friend had left off. “You really saved our asses.”

I just shrugged. “It’s the least we could do.”

Amara let out a bitter snort of amusement, but didn’t turn around. Staring at the back of her head, I tried to will some answers out of it to feed into my confusion. Why was she so grumpy with me?

Unfortunately, I got my wish, because she turned around and fixed me with a complex and hostile expression. “It sucks, though. Why did you two get chosen for that?”

“For… being mages?” I asked, feeling myself shrink inwards again.

“Yeah.”

“Ryn stumbled on the first mage fruit…” I said, looking down at my hands, where one set of fingers was busy strangling the other. “As for me… the Order picked me to be the second Avonsider mage.”

“Just like that?” Her voice felt like a thorny vine constricting around my neck. Everyone else was sitting, silent and shocked, uncertain what to do with the situation.

I nodded. “Just like that.”

“Fucking sucks,” she repeated, dropping her knife into the sink, where it clanged loudly against the metal bottom.

Finally, Lily broke the silence, walking over to where her friend stood. I missed the actual movement, but there was a loud snap and a gasp from Amara.

I looked up to see the tawny haired girl staring at her friend with shock and outrage. Amara had her hand on her cheek, where it was flaming red. Tears threatened to spill from where they hung on her lashes. Oh.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Mara?” Lily demanded, although her anger was already subsiding into sadness. “Cat has been working non stop to help us however she can, and you sit there getting pissy at her? It’s not her fault!”

“I— I was just—” Amara coughed, her voice raw.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, smiling over at the two of them. “I totally understand. I mean, I got to watch Ryn having fun with her powers and body and stuff for months before the same happened to me.”

Everyone turned to look at me, and I blushed under the combined assault of their attention. It wasn’t a happy blush, though. I think.

Hurriedly, I continued onwards, doing my best to maintain eye contact with the hurting dark haired trans woman. “Try not to take out your um… your… pain on me, though. We’re doing our best. If it was just a matter of like, giving everyone their dream body, we’d be handing them out as fast as our cooldown allows. Unfortunately we need to take into account stuff like hostile forces and city food management and stuff.”

Amara began to speak again, but I quickly interrupted her with a raised hand. “But! But… we’re working on the problem. There has to be a way to create a spell or ritual or plant or whatever that will give everyone the option to hit character creation again, but without the godlike powers and the long wait time. So uh… yeah, that’s… that’s what I’ve been trying to work on. Melody, Kelsey, and me.”

“Wait, they got some of those magic fruits?” Lily asked, frown lines creasing her brow.

I shook my head. “No, but they’re learning the theory anyway and helping me do research. I promise. We’re doing our best. Please… please be patient.”

“Always,” Aiden said, breaking his silence to smile at me with his big, warm, scraggly beard shifting along with his mouth. “It’s not like wait times for GRS are foreign to us anyway,” he joked. “Amara is just stressed, since she’s the one in charge of us all.”

“Yeah… yeah,” the girl in question said, grimacing at herself. “Sorry about that. It wasn’t very cool. This new world is just… fuck it sucks, man. Killer robots, power tripping pigs, and homicidal magical dictators. Feels like every week I’m wondering if the latest crisis will be the one that kills me, or if the dysphoria will finally get me first.”

“Oi!” Aiden said, sitting up straight on the sofa. He scrambled around himself for like, a full four seconds before finding a single orphaned chopstick, and pointed it at her. “You know the rules, bitch! Pay the jar!”

Amara groaned and slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “God damn it.”

QuietValerie