# chapters

path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112
author_id: imaj
title: The Third Girl
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“On second thoughts, I’ll find something interesting myself,” you say to Lisa, dropping a little hint of disdain into Kendra’s voice.  Her nostrils flare and her eyes narrow.<br/>
<br/>
“Summer,” says Lisa, taking a step into the dining room.  The little Asian girl disentangles herself from her punkish companion and looks round.  Her embarrassed expression is adorable.  “There you are,” says Lisa perfunctorily.  That she isn’t striking a more knowing tone is for your benefit you figure – no sense giving anything away in front of you.  “Alyssa wanted a word with you.  Like now.”<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry Chris,” says Summer to her companion.  The punkish girl rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut.  Perhaps Alyssa’s reach at Eastman is as far as Chelsea’s is at Westside?  “Later,” she says, giving Chris on last quick kiss.  Summer scuttles off, following Lisa out.<br/>
<br/>
“What was that all about,” you ask the bemused looking Chris.<br/>
<br/>
She rolls her eyes again.  “Usual Alyssa bullshit,” she smiles.  “But you didn’t hear me say that.”  She looks at you thoughtfully before continuing.  “I’ve not seen you around Eastman before, you a transfer student or something?”<br/>
<br/>
“No, actually, I’m at Westside,” you reply sitting next to her and fingering at your purse nervously.  The mind band is sitting inside.  “Kendra Saunders,” you say, offering your hand.<br/>
<br/>
“Chris Yves,” replies the punk girl, shaking your hand briefly.  “I shouldn’t complain really, I hear you have even worse bullshit over there – Someone called Chelsea Cooper messing people about.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve heard of her,” you smile wryly.<br/>
<br/>
Chris catches the expression on your face and laughs.  “I guess you have,” she says.  “Lucky for me her reach doesn’t extend as far as Eastman.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t think she’d like you,” you admit.  If you’re right about what Chelsea’s motivations are, Chris’ openly out nature would drive Chelsea insane with jealousy.  “Actually, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you kind of stick out here too.”<br/>
<br/>
“After I went to all this effort to show my team spirit as well,” she snarks, gesturing at her hair and skirt.  You giggle a little, a reflex Kendra gesture for when she’s trying to put someone at their ease to get information out of them.  “I’m just here with Summer really, and Summer’s been friends with Alyssa since they were little.  I just wish she’d…”  Chris tails off, obviously choosing not to give voice to whatever she was thinking.  You finger at the mind band inside your purse with a free hand.<br/>
<br/>
“She’d what,” you ask gently, trying not to force the issue.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh it doesn’t matter,” says Chris, turning away from you and clamming up.  Oh well, you can always find out later for yourself using the mind strip.  Kendra’s persona is a little disappointed however.  This is your chance though, so you pull the mind strip out of your purse.  Chris turns back towards you.  “Maybe I should…” she begins before you place the band on her forehead.  <br/>
<br/>
Chris slumps forward in her seat.  You catch her and gently lay her head down on an armrest.  Minutes pass by.  No one else at the party seems to be interested in what’s going on in the dining room.  You guess there are more than enough rooms in the Carlson house for everyone.  Eventually the mind band comes back out and you catch it and place it back in your purse before it falls off.<br/>
<br/>
“Are you ok,” you ask, giving the drowsy girl a slight shake.  “You just, like, blanked out.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m fine,” says Chris, shaking herself free of you.  She looks at you somewhat askew but gives no voice to whatever she’s thinking.  “Maybe I should be going.”<br/>
<br/>
“Some fresh air might be good for you,” you say as she stands up.  “Take a walk outside.”  Chris ignores you as she walks unsteadily out of the room.<br/>
<br/>
One down, two more to go.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You run into more of Alyssa’s cohorts up the stairs in a room that is, and this part amazes you, fitted out as a library.  At least you assume they are some of Alyssa’s allies.  You recognise Lisa Rickover talking to two other girls in a tone that sounds like instructions or even orders.  The other two, you don’t recognise.  With a small surge of elation, you realise they are attractive enough to be candidates for the third face on the mask.<br/>
<br/>
Not Lisa though, she turns her hatchet like face towards you again as you meander in.  “Oh it’s <i>you</i> again,” she sighs.  “Decided to be less of a bitch this time?”  There is a sharp intake of breath from on of the other girls, a brunette beauty with what is quite simply the most magnificent pair of boobs you’ve ever seen.  <br/>
<br/>
With Kendra’s memories, you know better than to rise to Lisa’s baiting.  “When am I ever anything other than sweetness and light,” you smile back.  Lisa gives you a nod in return.  You’re both too good at this game to trip each other up so easily.<br/>
<br/>
“I’d love to hang around all day and spar with you Kendra,” she replies, half to you and half to her friends.  “But I really need to find Mandy before you get to her.”<br/>
<br/>
“Shoot,” you say with sickly sweet sarcasm.  “You’re really trying to make my life difficult aren’t you?  No honour amongst gossips, I guess.”  Lisa laughs as she steps through the door past you.<br/>
<br/>
You’re Kendra,” asks the other girl.  There’s a southern twang to her voice.  You doubt it would be replicated by the mask without an accompanying mind band.  Still, her voice by itself has a nice smoky quality and the slender figure and dark red hair will be a nice addition, even if her face leans more towards cute than outright beautiful.  “We ain’t going to tell you nothing sugar.”<br/>
<br/>
“Nothing at all,” you pout.  “That’s a little unfair.  I mean, you know who I am…”<br/>
<br/>
“And what you are too,” interrupts the redhead.<br/>
<br/>
“…but I don’t even know your names,” you continue smoothly.  “And would you believe I’m not here to spy for Chelsea.”  The redhead glances at the ceiling for a second, her disbelief obvious.<br/>
<br/>
“I think we can let Kendra know who we are Tina,” says the dark haired girl drolly.  “It’s not some state secret<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you, <i>Maddy</i>,” says the other girl.<br/>
<br/>
“Pleased to meet you both,” you say, sitting in a comfy chair opposite them.  “I promise not to bite.”<br/>
<br/>
“No wonder Lisa is unhappy with you,” mutters Maddy under her breath.  Tina elbows her in the ribs and looks unhappy.  “Likewise,” she continues more loudly.  “It’s great to finally put a face to the name.  And the stories.”<br/>
<br/>
“If you ain’t here for Chelsea, who are you here for,” asks Tina, her displeasure etched all over her face.<br/>
<br/>
“Is it so hard to believe that I can do things for myself,” you ask.  “I know you Eastman types like Lisa can work together for the greater good.”  You watch closely for a reaction when you mention Lisa’s name.  You, or rather Kendra, suspect that she doesn’t always sing from the same hymn sheet as the rest of Alyssa’s so called Rumoratti.  Tina blanches momentarily, but Maddy is made of stronger stuff.<br/>
<br/>
“Are you saying there’s some division in Chelsea’s group at Westside,” asks Maddy directly.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m saying things are the same as they always are at Westside,” you reply batting the question aside with ease.  Maddy may be a little sharper than Tina but she’s still an amateur compared to Kendra.  “Why would there be any division?  I’m just doing a little fact finding for myself.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, why would there be,” replies Maddy, looking thoughtful.<br/>
<br/>
“Alyssa said we shouldn’t,” whines Tina.  Even her petulance sounds great with that voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Alyssa isn’t here,” says Maddy.  She looks at you. “And I’m my own person too.  Maybe I’ll do some fact finding of my own too.”  You smile and nod at her.<br/>
<br/>
“Fine,” says Tina, standing up.  “I <i>am</i> going to do what Alyssa asked us to.”<br/>
<br/>
Here’s your chance.  Do you follow Tina, with her throaty voice and beautiful red hair, or do you try to add Maddy and her two greatest assets to the mask you are making?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122
author_id: imaj
title: The Voice
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It’s Tina’s voice that makes your decision.  For all her hotness, Maria’s voice can sound a little vapid and whiny.  You hope adding a little bit of Tina will sort that out.<br/>
<br/>
“So let’s talk business,” says Maddy, watching as Tina leaves the room.  You watch too – you need to get away from Maddy if you want to catch Tina.  “I could use a contact at Westside.”  You suppress Kendra’s instinct to snort.  You have the feeling Maddy would get far less out of such a deal than Kendra would.<br/>
<br/>
“And I could use a reliable contact at Eastman,” you reply, stressing the word reliable ever so slightly.  “And I could use a contact that no one else knows about.”  You smile.  Maddy takes a moment to think about it before letting out a small ‘ah’ sound.  “Exactly, I wouldn’t arrange anything where anyone at Eastman could overhear it.  Give me your phone number Maddy.  I’ll be in touch.”<br/>
<br/>
“Certainly not,” says Maddy with mock outrage.  She pulls a small notebook out her purse and starts writing in it.  “I mean Westside is totally the enemy and I’d never consort with you.”  She rips the page out and hands it to you with a wink.  There’s a cell number on it, of course.<br/>
<br/>
You, personally, don’t need a source at Eastman, but it might prove useful at some point in the future.  Maddy might even be able to unwittingly help you get masks from there.  So long as she thinks she’s dealing with ‘Kendra’, and so long as you have Kendra’s instincts and personality to help you, she should be manageable.<br/>
<br/>
“I guess we have nothing more to say to each other,” you reply, placing the paper into your own purse with a smile.  You stand up and nod at your new ally and make for the exit, hoping that Tina hasn’t disappeared.<br/>
<br/>
Luckily Tina hasn’t wandered to far from you, just round the corner and into an empty guest bedroom.  She’s sitting on the bed playing with her cell phone, facing away from the door, so you pull the Maria / Andrea mask.  A quick check confirms it’s the right one, the last thing you want is having to explain any mishaps to Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
Tina is so engrossed in whatever she’s texting she doesn’t notice you move quietly up behind her.  She tries to get as you slip the mask around in front of her, but all she does it make it easier for you to push it on her face.  Her motion abruptly halts and she slips back onto the bed, her cell phone clattering to the floor as her grasp slackens.<br/>
<br/>
First things first, you close the bedroom door to avoid any unwelcome interruptions from passers by.  Tina is out cold and lying awkwardly half on, half off the bed.  You haul her up by the arms and put her on her side on top of the covers before retrieving her phone.  <br/>
<br/>
The text seems to be a message to Alyssa telling her that Maddy’s talking to Kendra and needs rescued.  It’s tempting to interfere somehow, and Kendra’s personality certainly wants to, but you’d rather just let Tina think she blacked out for a minute.  Altering the message will leave evidence someone else was in the room with her.  Instead you place the phone back in her grasp and wait patiently for the mask to re-surface from Tina’s face.<br/>
<br/>
After a few minutes the mask appears and you quickly grab it and stuff it in your purse.  Then you step outside the room and close the door behind you before Tina can stir from your slumber.  Nobody is in the hall outside and with any luck Tina will put the brief appearance of the mask in front of her face down to her imagination or something.<br/>
<br/>
That’s the second of your three tasks finished – only the ‘official’ one of grabbing an Eastman basketball player remains.  You’ve got an idea of exactly who to talk to as well.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You catch up with Ian Carpenter again downstairs, just by the door that leads out to the swimming pool.  He’s standing chatting with another guy that you vaguely recognise from the Eastman basketball team.  He’s tall, of course they all are, and blond with an evidently expensive taste in clothes.  Kendra’s persona picked up that last bit, you would never have noticed.<br/>
<br/>
You’ve got a plan to get Ian by himself…<br/>
<br/>
It’s not a great plan.  At least, it’s not one you are happy with.  It owes more to Kendra’s approach than to your own.  You’ve been running her personality since you got to the party, content to let it loose and enjoy itself.  This last idea, well, Kendra will enjoy it much more than you will.<br/>
<br/>
You steel yourself and sink further into her persona.  “Hi Ian,” you say, placing one of Kendra’s delicate hands on Ian’s stomach.  You can feel his muscles through the shirt he’s wearing.  Kendra’s persona insists you shiver a little in anticipation and you comply.  “Did you catch up with Alyssa?”  In fact, you can see the Eastman head cheerleader out by the pool, talking to Summer.<br/>
<br/>
“Eventually,” he smiles back at you.  He looks at your hand, but doesn’t remove it, or back away.  “But she had to talk to Summer, and I wanted to have a word with Jon anyway.”  The other basketball player waves his hand.  Kendra’s mind whirls and identifies the other player as Jonathan Straussler – his family makes the Carlsons look like paupers.<br/>
<br/>
“I saw how you were looking at her earlier,” you say quietly, barely loudly enough for Ian to hear.  You walk your fingers up his chest before leaning in closely to whisper.  “You’re interested in her, aren’t you?”<br/>
<br/>
He looks at Alyssa as you lean back.  Straussler is staring very carefully at his drink.  “Is it obvious,” he asks in a quiet, distant voice.  Obvious enough for Kendra to make an educated guess.  In the distance, Alyssa laughs.  She hasn’t noticed you or Ian yet.<br/>
<br/>
“I can help,” you say.<br/>
<br/>
“You can,” he asks, turning to face you again.<br/>
<br/>
“I can,” you confirm with a lazy smile.  “Just follow my lead and don’t turn round and look at her.”<br/>
<br/>
“Why?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s important that she doesn’t see you looking at her,” you explain.  “Otherwise she’ll think you’re just doing it because she’s looking at you.  When <i>I </i>see her looking at you I’ll do it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do what?”<br/>
<br/>
“This,” you say, pulling him down and kissing him on the lips.  On instinct Ian kisses back, clumsily meeting your tongue with his own.  It takes him a few moments to realise what’s happening and stop.  “She was looking at you,” you explain.  “Don’t look, but she was totally looking at you.  She still is and she is so jealous right now,” you lie.  In fact Alyssa is walking away to talk to someone else.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, I get it,” he smiles slowly.  “The old ‘make her jealous’ routine.  Think it’ll work,” he asks Straussler.<br/>
<br/>
“It always works,” he replies, glancing past Carpenter to where Alyssa is disappearing from sight.  He gives you a funny look, which you ignore.<br/>
<br/>
“You know what will work even better,” you whisper in his ear.  He looks at you expectantly.  You grab hold of his hand.  “Come with me and find out.”</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221
author_id: imaj
title: The Captain's Choice
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“I’m not so sure about this,” says Ian as you drag him into the guest bedroom you were in earlier.  Tina is thankfully absent.  You shush him with a finger tip and push him back onto the bed.  He topples over slowly, landing on the covers with a soft thud.  “I mean do we need to go this far?  Does it matter so long as Alysaa thinks we went this far.”<br/>
<br/>
“It has to be genuine,” you insist, kneeling on top of the bed beside him.  Ian slowly backs himself up the bed by leaning on his arms.  You’re not sure if he’s trying to back out or accommodate you.  “Alyssa will be able to tell, just by looking at you,” you say as you swing a leg over him and pin him in place.  The lime green minidress you’re wearing rides up over your hips to reveal a lacy set of panties to Ian.  You feel a pang of nausea as you feel his cock stir beneath you, but you cling more tightly to Kendra’s personality.  You let is wash over and around you, and the nausea is replaced with a hunger.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not sure,” he repeats half-heartedly.  He makes an attempt to get up, but you easily push him onto his back.  With Kendra’s hands you start working loose the buttons of his shirt.  It falls open, revealing a well sculpted torso.  Your doubts are buried in another rush of lust from Kendra’s personality and you actually feel your panties get a little moist.  <br/>
<br/>
“Just pretend I’m her,” you say.  “Imagine that she wants you.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll try Kendra,” he says, sounding unsure.<br/>
<br/>
“No,” you object, squeezing your thighs.  Ian moans gently.  “Remember.  I’m Alyssa, and I’ve wanted you for so long but I’m too prissy and stuck up to admit it.”  He barks a short laugh and you giggle.  His trousers are tenting badly now and you instinctively rub against the bulge.<br/>
<br/>
“Ok, ok, ‘Alyssa’ then,” he says more enthusiastically.  His hands fumble at his trousers.  You work your mouth against his as he clumsily tries to pull them and his boxers away.  “I’ve waited for so long to do this,” he says as he unzips the back of your dress.  You sit upright, still grinding against his now free member as you pull the dress free.<br/>
<br/>
“We were fools to deny this,” you say archly as you unclasp the bra Patterson gave you this morning.  Kendra’s breasts tumble free – they might not be as ample as Maddy’s but they are firm and pert.  Ian grabs one and inexpertly massages it.  “Take me now!”<br/>
<br/>
Ian needs no further encouragement.  He pushes his member past the panties and into Kendra’s – your – pussy.  The waves of pleasure that arc their way up your spine splinter your last remnants of control.  Kendra’s in charge now and your just along for the ride.  And it’s just as well.<br/>
<br/>
He starts pushing away at you with enthusiasm, leaving you to buck in time to his thrusts.  Ian spends himself quickly and recklessly.  Kendra’s disappointment lets you assert enough control again to do what it is you came for.<br/>
<br/>
The nausea wells up in your stomach again.  Ian’s softening cock is still inside you and…  <i>No, don’t think about it…</i>  You’d left your purse on the bed covers and it’s easy to reach inside and pull out the blank mask.  Ian eyes are closed tight, he’s gasping for breath and its easy to place the mask on his face.  He stiffens for one last moment then his entire body goes soft.<br/>
<br/>
You pull yourself clear and shudder.  Kendra might have enjoyed herself, but you’re feeling a little revolted.  Still, there’s one last little part that needs played out here before your work is done.  You lay down beside Ian and, summoning Kendra’s thoughts and feeling around you like a mask again to stem your disgust, lay your head on his shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The mask is safely back in your purse when Ian starts to stir.  You make a happy sounding moan and run a free hand up and down his chest.  “That was amazing,” you lie.  Even from Kendra’s perspective the experience was below average, but like Maddy, Ian might prove useful in the future so you stoke his ego.<br/>
<br/>
“It was,” he says.  The words have the tone of a question.  He leans on his arms so he’s almost half sitting up.  “I mean of course it was.”<br/>
<br/>
“You were fantastic,” you lie again, giving him a cuddle.  “Alyssa doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”<br/>
<br/>
“But she’ll notice now, right,” he asks hopefully.<br/>
<br/>
You lean your chin on his chest and look up at his face, eyes wide.  “Maybe.  It might take a little while for her to notice.”  He looks crestfallen.  “We’ll just have to keep trying.  She’ll realise her mistake sooner or later.”  Or Ian will forget about Alyssa entirely.  The memories bound in the mask you are wearing tell you that once Kendra gets her claws into someone like this, she rarely lets go willingly<br/>
<br/>
“Then I guess what we have to keep doing,” says Ian.  He struggles to conceal a smirk.  Clearly he thinks that he is getting to use Kendra, rather than the other way around.  By the time he realises his mistake it will be too late.<br/>
<br/>
Well.<br/>
<br/>
Assuming you get a Kendra masked golem to keep up contact or something.  It occurs to you that you might be getting a little to into this.  Being Kendra is just so intoxicating, so different from the mundane nature of your own life.  You assure yourself that Patterson and Black will be grateful that you put a hold on their rival.<br/>
<br/>
Or call you a faggot and beat the crap out of you.<br/>
<br/>
Either way, your work here is done.  You kiss Ian slowly.  “I’ll be in touch,” you say as you peel away from him and start looking for your clothes.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You’re feeling a little smug as your work your way down the stairs and towards the exit when Jonathan Straussler looms in front of you.  Sort of.  Actually, he stands a couple of steps below you, so his head ends up about level with yours.<br/>
<br/>
“I thought I‘d have a word before you left,” he says quietly.  Other guests are milling about the area but they pay you no heed.<br/>
<br/>
“You saw that Alyssa wasn’t watching when I kissed Ian earlier,” you guess.  Straussler nods almost imperceptibly.  “But you didn’t tell him I was lying.  Why?”<br/>
<br/>
Straussler looks around a couple of times to check who is nearby.  “I, we – the whole team – are fed up of him mooning round after Alyssa.  We all know that it’s not going to happen and his game is suffering because of it.  I thought if he fucked someone else,” he explains.  He’s quite blunt and matter-of-fact.  “He’d get over it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe,” you smile.<br/>
<br/>
One of Straussler’s eyebrows shoots up.  “Maybe,” he asks.  “Why maybe?”<br/>
<br/>
“Look he only…” you stumble over the word with a little of Kendra’s distaste.  “<i>Fucked</i> me to make her jealous.  And look at me:”  You wave your hands in front of yourself.  “I’m clearly a substitute for her.”<br/>
<br/>
“So what are you saying,” he asks, eyes narrowing.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m saying it’ll take me a little while to help him get over Alyssa.  You’ll be seeing me around,” you smile viciously.  “You know what the really funny thing is?  You can’t go and tell Alyssa, because you know she’ll only try to break us up and start ignoring him again.”<br/>
<br/>
Straussler stares at you silently. You can feel the anger radiating off him.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m right, aren’t I?”<br/>
<br/>
“You are,” he admits.  “But I’ll tell you this, If you mess him about.  I don’t care who you are.  We’ll make you pay for it.”<br/>
<br/>
“I consider myself so warned,” you smile, pushing past him.  You turn around to say one last thing before you leave.  “But you can trust me when I say I want only the best for Ian.”<br/>
<br/>
<i>Damn you’re good.</i><br/>
<br/>
As you close the door of the Carlsons’ behind you, you ponder your next steps:  Report back to Patterson directly at the Fuck Room, or test out the Maria / Andrea / Tina mask at the elementary school basement.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212
author_id: imaj
title: It Lives!
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>In some ways it’s a relief to be out of the Kendra mask.  The old clothes you used to transport the golem from Patterson’s house to the school basement are loose and comfortable.  Being free from Kendra’s thoughts nipping away at you, trying to steer you in ways you were never quite comfortable with, is a relief.  Your mind is wholly your own again and the more unpleasant memories of what you did this afternoon are fading already.<br/>
<br/>
But still…<br/>
<br/>
Your gaze lingers on the neat pile of clothes you wore at Kristy Carlson’s party.  The mask of Kendra glints invitingly on top of them.  Being Kendra was an empowering experience.  You were able to do things you’d never have dreamed of before, and it wasn’t just seducing Ian Carpenter.  As Kendra you could push people around like pieces on a chess board.<br/>
<br/>
You bite at your lip nervously – better to put those ideas out of your head for now and focus on what’s in front of you.  The mask of Ian is already sealed, as is the one that combines Maria, Andrea and Tina.  All you need to do is affix the mind band from the punk girl and it’s ready.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson texted to let you know he’d be coming round in a little while, but you reckon you still have enough time to finish and play about with the golem before he arrives.  With care and attention, you solder the mind band into place.  You try to make out the details of the reflected face in the surface of the mask before realising it would be much simpler to just drop it on the golem now.<br/>
<br/>
The golem is lying on top of a rug in the middle of the floor for some reason.  Presumably Patterson paid it a visit between the last time you were here and now.  You place the mask on the golem’s head reverentially and take a step back to watch.<br/>
<br/>
You gulp as the grey surface of the golem softens into pale flesh.  There is a faint stirring in your trousers, because it seems to have turned out rather well.<br/>
<br/>
Very well in fact.  The golem seems to incorporate the best features from all the three girls.  Surprisingly it has turned out very pale, with no sign Maria’s tanned skin.  Maria’s best feature, her amazing ass seems to be present, but it’s combined with a more conventional hourglass figure than she has.  The hard edges of Andrea’s lean curves have been softened by what the mask has taken from Tina.  The breasts don’t quite match the sheer exquisiteness of the ass, but they look very firm and quite the handful.  The golem’s hair is something else too: Voluminous and shiny, it looks like it would reach the small of its back and has what seems like an impossibly dark red sheen to it.<br/>
<br/>
So, yeah, you gulp again.  It worked out pretty well.<br/>
<br/>
The golem blinks a couple of times as it slowly gains awareness of its surroundings.  “Oh.  My  God,” is the first thing it says, raising its hands to its breasts.  “I finally got a visit from the boob fairy.”  You recall from this afternoon that Chris was somewhat flat chested.  “And that’s not my voice,” it says in a low register that reminds you of Tina, minus the accent anyway.<br/>
<br/>
The golem hauls itself to its feet, pausing to lift a strand of its hair and examine it closely.  It turns around a couple of times before spotting you.  “Ok, what the fuck’s going on here,” it asks you in an accusatory fashion.<br/>
<br/>
“Calm down,” you say quickly, raising your hands to ward her off.<br/>
<br/>
The golem subsides and looks at you out of the corner of its eyes.  “I was going to say that you weren’t the boss of me, but…” it says, glancing at the ceiling.  “Well apparently you are.”  It folds its arms defiantly, mashing its boobs in the process.  “God these are more awkward than I’d have thought.”<br/>
<br/>
“I just want to talk for a bit Chris,” you explain.<br/>
<br/>
“So talk,” it says.  “Obviously you know who I am.”  It stops for a second to look down at itself again.  “Or who I think I am.  Some answers about why I’ve changed would be nice.  Also: who the hell are you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Actually we met earlier today,” you explain, walking over to the pile of Kendra’s clothes.  “I just looked at little different.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s the dress Kendra was wearing at the Carlson party,” exclaims the golem as you search the purse for the compact mirror that you know is inside.  “Is she here too…” the golem tails off.  “Wait, are you telling me <i>you</i> were Kendra?  That’s fucking insane”<br/>
<br/>
“Is it?  Take a look at yourself,” you say, throwing the golem the makeup compact.  It flips it open and examines itself.<br/>
<br/>
“Is that… Me?  How?”<br/>
<br/>
“Would you believe magic,” you ask.  The golem snorts its disbelief.  “Can you think of another explanation.  Look, never mind – the important thing to understand is that you aren’t really Chris.”<br/>
<br/>
“I sure as fuck feel like I am,” argues the golem.  “Except for the whole having to do whatever you say bit.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s because you have all Chris’ memories right up to the point where I put the mind band on her.  Which I then attached to this mask which makes you look like that.”<br/>
<br/>
“Who is this, by the way,” it says, gesturing at itself.  “Is it a copy of someone too?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a mix of three people: One of Alyssa’s friends by the name of Tina, a cheerleader from Westside and the Westside swim team captain.  Basically you’re…”<br/>
<br/>
“Frankenstein,” interrupts the golem.  “I get it.  What I don’t understand is why go to the effort of all this.”<br/>
<br/>
“You mean the monster, Frankenstein was the creator,” you rub your chin with your hand.  “You see, the thing is...  Look, I’ll be upfront about it:  We want you to seduce a girl.”<br/>
<br/>
“I see,” says the golem frostily.  “And if I say no?  No, I can’t, can I?  Why is it so important?”<br/>
<br/>
“Well, its…  She’s…  She’s like you,” you say sheepishly.  The golem actually laughs at you and you blush a bright red.  “Except she’s not open about it, more kind of repressing it in fact.  It’s making her hurt people around her I guess.  She’s even got a boyfriend that she uses to convince herself that she isn’t… well…”<br/>
<br/>
“A dyke,” laughs the golem.  “Go on, say it.  But yeah, that actually sounds noble.  I may even actually help you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Tell me why,” you say without thinking.<br/>
<br/>
“Because I’ve got this thing about people being able to be who they are without having to worry about what the rest of the world thinks,” blurts the golem before it realises what its doing.  “Oh that was unfair.”<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t mind,” you say flatly and the golem’s pout disappears.  “In fact, you want to help.  You feel sorry for her.”<br/>
<br/>
“I…  <i>do</i>… want to help,” says the golem.  “I feel kind of sorry for this girl.  Who exactly is it I’m feeling sorry for?”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah,” you say, looking around for the mask of Chelsea.  “Let me show you.”  The old clothes you’re wearing are quite loose and should be able to accommodate Chelsea’s more ample proportions.  You suffer a little dizziness as you put on the mask and your vision blurs but you manage to remain upright.<br/>
<br/>
“No way,” says the golem.  “Chelsea Cooper?  Chelsea <i>fucking</i> Cooper?  I take it back, I'm not Frankenstein, I'm the bride of Frankenstein.  Do you seriously expect me to believe she’s into other girls?”<br/>
<br/>
“Wait, you know Chelsea,” you ask the golem.<br/>
<br/>
“Everyone at Eastman knows who she is,” explains the golem.  “Alyssa made sure of it.  She’s a complete and utter bitch.”  The golem stops for a second.  “Chelsea is, not Alyssa.  Although she’s a bitch in her own way.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well that’s it I think,” you reply  “She’s a bitch because she’s repressing her true feelings and trying to conform to some kind of ideal of what she should be like.”<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121
author_id: imaj
title: Patterson Plans It All Out
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“She’d be a total cunt anyway,” comes a voice from the door.  Patterson casually saunters in and looks at both you and the golem.  “This is the second time I’ve busted in on you with a couple of girls Prescott.  I’m getting worried,” he smiles unpleasantly.  “Which one are you this time?”  You raise your hand.  Patterson gives you a nod and walks over to the golem. He circles round it slowly, examining it critically as if it were a piece of merchandise.  “This is our new girl then?”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t like the way he’s looking at me,” says the golem.<br/>
<br/>
“Tell her to be quiet,” snaps Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“Be quiet,” you say gently.  “And don’t worry about him, everything’s going to be ok.”  The golem glazes over a little.  “I’d prefer not to have to program it too much,” you say to Patterson.  “I don’t want Black, uh, Gordon, becoming suspicious of it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Good idea Prescott,” says Patterson.  He stops circling and moves in on the golem.  Patterson brushes its hair past its ear to take a closer look at her face.  Then he turns to you and smiles broadly.  “Very good job.  She’s fucking hot and I’d do her in a second.  What will Chelsea think?”<br/>
<br/>
You cock your head on your side and place your hands on your hips as you trawl through Chelsea’s memories.  “Yeah, it looks like the kind of girl Chelsea would like.  If she admitted to liking other girls.”<br/>
<br/>
“So she’s good to go,” ask Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“We’d need to set up an identity I guess,” you equivocate.  The golem’s appearance has eased some of your concerns about Patterson’s plan, but you still think it’s pretty stupid.  Throwing up a couple of roadblocks like that might slow him down for a while.<br/>
<br/>
“Shit,  I hadn’t thought of that.” He growls.  “We’ll work something out.  Did you get me a basketball player?”<br/>
<br/>
You pick up the Ian Carpenter mask from where you left it.  “I think you’ll like this.”  Patterson catches the mask deftly when you throw it to him and flips it over to read the name inside.  He laughs loudly.  “You got fucking Carpenter?  I’m impressed.  Hell, I’m gonna say this one counts for double.  I’m gonna put this on right now and see what plays that pussy is coming up with for our next game.”<br/>
<br/>
“Um…” you say shiftily.  Patterson’s countenance abruptly hardens and he stares at you.  “When you put it on, I just want to say that…  Well it was the only way I could get him separated from that Straussler guy.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson’s brow furrows in what passes for deep thought for him.  It takes him a few seconds but he eventually catches your meaning.  “You <i>fucked </i>him?  Way to take one for the team Prescott,” he sniggers.<br/>
<br/>
“It was more Kendra,” you try to explain.  “I just kind of hid in her personality.  I’d have been physically ill otherwise.”<br/>
<br/>
“Bet that would have killed the mood,” he laughs.  “I should’ve given you another mask and you could have had a threesome with Straussler.  Guy’s fucking loaded.”  He pauses for a second and you would swear you could almost hear the gears grinding inside his head.  “That gives me an idea.”<br/>
<br/>
You groan.  The last thing you want is another bright idea from Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“You get any hooks in Carpenter,” ask Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“What,” you ask.  “I don’t understand.”<br/>
<br/>
“I just spent the day with Kendra,” he explains, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  “She kept trying to get her claws into me.  You know, like having a hold over me.  She’s not as good as it as Chelsea, and I’m better at resisting it than Gordon.  I figure a weakling pussy like Carpenter would have no chance against her.”<br/>
<br/>
“I, uh…” you stammer.  “He thinks he has to keep seeing me, I mean Kendra, to make this girl he’s crushing on jealous.”<br/>
<br/>
“Christ, what a fuckwit,” exclaims Patterson.  “It’d serve him right if she chewed him up and spat him out.”<br/>
<br/>
“It wasn’t the real Kendra though, it was just me pretending,” you say.  Patterson is looking at you expectantly with a wide grin on his face.  “Oh no.  You’ve got to be kidding.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson nods.  “Think of it as a promotion:  Trial senior member.  You wear Kendra’s mask for a couple of weeks, ruin Carpenter’s life and pick up any cheerleaders we’ve missed, you get full senior membership.  Then you can choose who you become.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t think the real Kendra’s going to like me living her life,” you complain.<br/>
<br/>
“She won’t be able to complain,” growls Patterson.  “Remember the Richards mask?  I’m gonna put the same goop on <i>your</i> mask.  Kendra will fill in for you while you fill in for her.  The best thing is, she won’t remember a minute of it.”<br/>
<br/>
“So I won’t just be doing the job for you, I’ll be living her life entirely,” you ask, nervously licking your lips.  The offer is more tempting than it should be – hell as Kendra you might actually be able to stand up to Patterson.  “It’s another test?”<br/>
<br/>
“Sure, pretend you’re a secret fucking agent or something,” says Patterson.  “Just do the jobs and you’ll be fine.  A <i>full</i> senior member.”  You don’t remember there being a distinction between different types of senior member before, but it would hardly be a surprise if Patterson wants to move the goalposts.  “Your other task will be to keep an eye on our girl here,” he continues indicating the golem.  “Help her into the cheerleading team and help her make her move on Chelsea.  That’s once I get her identity sorted out, but I got an idea for that.”<br/>
<br/>
“Will the rest of the team know what I’m doing?  I mean the fucking over Carpenter and getting Cheerleader bits,” you add quickly.  “I’m not going to tell anyone about you plans for Chelsea.  Obviously.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll let Gordon know where you are,” replies Patterson.  “I don’t care if you tell your dipshit friends or not.  They won’t be able to tell the difference between you and a golem anyway.”<br/>
<br/>
Unless Caleb starts randomly pulling at faces again, you think.<br/>
<br/>
“You understand all that,” asks Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
You’ve gone along with Patterson thus far.  If you’re going to be honest, you’re also surprised to have made it this far too.  But the problems keep mounting up – you’ve got a dream girl for Chelsea but no background for her.  And now he wants you to step in for Kendra for far longer than you’ve worn a mask before.  The idea of having Ian Carpenter stick his cock inside you again does not appeal either.  It could be time to make a stand:  to tell Patterson you want out.<br/>
<br/>
On the other hand, you’re still the same coward you were when Patterson first proposed his insane plan.  At least there’s a carrot to go alongside the stick this time:  You actually enjoyed being Kendra at times this afternoon – the manipulative bitch times, not the fucking other guys times.  Just think of the mischief you could get up to if you stepped into her shoes on a more long term basis.</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212
author_id: imaj
title: A Provisional Trial Senior Member (On Probation)
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“Yeah,” you mumble.  “I understand.”<br/>
<br/>
“Good,” he rumbles.  “Tidy up here and I’ll meet you back at the gym loft.  You’d better be quick,” he warns you as he heads for the door.  “I want you there before Kendra gets close.  And make sure you bring her mask.”   He closes the basement door behind him as he leaves.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the golem, which is staring at you blankly.  You recall the instructions you gave it earlier and countermand them.  “Ok, you can talk now.”<br/>
<br/>
“So this is what you’re going to do then,” it asks.  “Steal Kendra’s life and ruin Ian Carpenters?”<br/>
<br/>
“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it,” you snap irritably.<br/>
<br/>
“You told me not to worry about that other guy,” says the golem.  “Look, Prescott, that’s your name isn’t it?  What’s your first name?”<br/>
<br/>
“Will,” you say miserably.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t you think what you are doing is wrong Will,” it asks.<br/>
<br/>
“I know its fucking wrong,” you shout.  “It just I don’t have a choice.”<br/>
<br/>
“You always have a choice,” begins the golem.<br/>
<br/>
“And I thought I told you that you wanted to help,” you interrupt angrily.<br/>
<br/>
“I want to help you with Chelsea,” says the golem in a neutral tone.  “But that’s completely different:  You’re creating a new identity for me, not stealing someone else’s.  And it’s about helping Chelsea admit who she is, not ruining her life out of petty spite.”  <br/>
<br/>
You stare at the golem open mouthed.  Does it really see such a difference between the two things?  Or is it just trying to twist the logic of it in its head to match the instructions you gave it to Chris’ personality.<br/>
<br/>
“All I’m saying Will is think about it,” says the golem soothingly.  “Make the right choice.”<br/>
<br/>
You stride over to it and rip off its mask.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m choosing to shut you up,” you say to yourself.  Things are bad enough without some golem trying to act as your conscience.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Patterson had something very specific in mind by the time you reached the Fuck Room.  That’s why you’re standing, completely naked, in a nook at the back, well out of sight of the door.  It’s also why you’re wearing the mask of Kendra.  Again, he was very insistent, and again you didn’t want to stand up to him.  At least he thinks you are a team player.<br/>
<br/>
You’re waiting for your cue.  It’s taking a while because the real Kendra seems to be taking her time.  Of course, you know that’s because she has a standing policy of making guys wait for her, but judging from the unhappy mutterings coming from over by the door, Patterson doesn’t.<br/>
<br/>
So you wait, and wait.  The Fuck Room’s starting to get a little chilly now that it’s dark outside.  You’re about to go over to Patterson and complain when you hear voices at the door.<br/>
<br/>
“About time,” grumbles Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh sorry Steve, did I make you wait,” drawls Kendra.  Her tone falls short of mockery by the finest of fine margins.  “but I’m just so <i>worn out</i> today.  I had to rest a little before I came over.  You however, your have the stamina of a horse.”  <br/>
<br/>
She’s probably running her finger down his chest about now.  It’s what you’d be doing in her place, and if you were pretending to be her.  Obviously only if you were pretending to be her, because, well…<br/>
<br/>
Best not to think about it too much really.<br/>
<br/>
“Now what was that was so important that I just had to rush over here,” asks Kendra, breaking your chain of thought.  “Are we going to put that stamina of yours to the test again?”  Ugh.  This is precisely the kind of conversation you are not looking forward to emulating.<br/>
<br/>
“Actually,” sneers Patterson. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”<br/>
<br/>
That’s your cue.  You step out of your hiding hole and pad silently towards the door.  Kendra’s attention is focused on Patterson so she doesn’t notice your approach.  Patterson gestures toward you and Kendra turns round.  Her face rapidly passes through several expressions; confusion, slack jawed amazement and eventually fear.<br/>
<br/>
“Who are you,” she eventually stammers.  What an unoriginal line you think.  Patterson quietly closes the door behind her.<br/>
<br/>
“Isn’t it obvious,” you say, matching her diction perfectly.  “I’m Kendra Saunders.”<br/>
<br/>
“But… but…” she stammers, any trace of confidence she wore on her face as she entered is vanished completely now.  “You can’t be me.  This is like one of those bad films with… with…”  Kendra falls silent.  She simply doesn’t watch those kind of films to be able to make a comparison.<br/>
<br/>
There's a  roughly outlined script that Patterson wants you to stick to, so you continue:  “You’re wearing my clothes, take them off.”<br/>
<br/>
Kendra takes a step back and glances round at Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“You were happy to take them off this afternoon,” laughs Patterson.  “Do it, or I’ll take them off for you.”  You feel a sharp stab of guilt.  This is getting a little out of hand.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra complies though, kicking off her wedge heeled sandals and undoing the buttons on her denim cut-off shorts.  She’s wearing a black thong underneath, you notice.  She peels them off and unties the knot in her shirt at her midriff.  Soon it and the black demi-bra she was wearing sit on top of the small mound of clothing at her feet.<br/>
<br/>
“Now what,” she asks quietly.<br/>
<br/>
“Now you get to watch as I take over for you,” you smile, picking up the  demi-bra and fastening it onto your own duplicate bosom.  Her expression is aghast as you pick up the thong and pull it into place.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re not going to get away with this,” she eventually says in some half hearted attempt at defiance.  You’re almost disappointed at her clichéd response.  Patterson is loving it though.<br/>
<br/>
“Look at me,” you say as you fasten the cut-offs into place.  They are very tight.  “I look just like you and I sound just like you.”<br/>
<br/>
“My friends will be able to tell the difference,” she adds.  <i>Oh for fucks sake, she’s like some badly written daytime soap.</i> <br/>
<br/>
“You don’t have any friends,” you reply, slipping into her sandals.  “You’re a bully and you use people.  I know this because I know everything about you, like how you still secretly hate Gloria and only play nice because Chelsea forces you to.  Any other secrets you want me to share to prove how much I know.  There’s plenty to spare.”<br/>
<br/>
This last bit finally seems to break Kendra’s spirit.  She looks down at the floor.<br/>
<br/>
“You know what you have to do,” ask Patterson, looking at you.  He’s picked up the mask of you at some point and you can see the goop on the inside.  The golem will apparently be under Patterson’s control, which is a bit of a sore point for you.<br/>
<br/>
“I have a good idea,” you say in an amused tone, picking up the back of masks Patterson has put aside for you to pick up the remaining cheerleaders.  Kendra turns to watch as you walk out the door.  You can’t help but turn around to make one parting comment before you leave.  “Enjoy your life Kendra, I know I will.”<br/>
<br/>
A muffled scream comes from behind you as you walk away.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
After that, it’s back to your new home to settle in.  The first thing you do is call Ian Carpenter to arrange to meet him for coffee in the afternoon.  Patterson had been pretty insistent that you sidelined Carpenter tomorrow for some reason.  You assume that Patterson has something planed with the Carpenter mask, but don’t want to dwell too much on the details.  You arrange to meet Carpenter at a coffee house out by Keyserling College, simply because you’ll be unlikely to run into anyone from Westside or Eastman there.  You say something different to him of course.<br/>
<br/>
Then it’s time for a long comfortable shower.  Even though you’ve been in Kendra’s body for most of the day, it’s the first moment that you’ve really had it to yourself.  You let go of all but the most rudimentary grip of Kendra’s memories, holding on to just enough to guide you as you thoroughly explore her body.  The shivering climax you bring yourself to soothes the nagging disappointments from Kendra’s persona over your encounter with Carpenter earlier.<br/>
<br/>
As you sit in Kendra’s bedroom, drying your hair in front of the mirror you notice the bit of paper that Maddy gave you earlier with her number.  On a whim, you pick up Kendra’s iPhone and call her.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey Maddy,” you say when she picks up.<br/>
<br/>
“Kendra, is that you,” she replies a little dozily.  “What’s with the late night call?”<br/>
<br/>
“I realised I’d totally forgotten about you,” you explain.  “Did I wake you up or something?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s OK,” she says.  “Listen, Mandy spotted you and Jon Strassler having an argument at Kristy’s.  Jon’s not saying anything, maybe you’d like to fill me in,” she asks, dangling the hook inexpertly.<br/>
<br/>
It’s tempting to give her something.  Not the truth, of course, but something that could help you undermine Alyssa in the long term.<br/>
<br/>
“It’d take too long to explain,” you say.<br/>
<br/>
“Well how about we meet up tomorrow and talk about it,” interrupts Maddy quickly.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122
author_id: imaj
title: Two Seductions
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I've already got something planned for tomorrow,” you say.  At the other end of the line, Maddy remains silent.  “I’ll give you the short version: Jon stopped me from talking to Ian and we had an argument,” you lie.  You fake a little bitterness as you continue.  “You can tell Alyssa that, I’m sure she’ll love it.”<br/>
<br/>
Maddy makes an appreciative noise.<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll get together sometime after school next week and I can fill you in on the details then,” you offer.<br/>
<br/>
“That works for me,” she replies.  “Give me a call when you’re free.  Right now I want to get back to my bed.”<br/>
<br/>
“Me too.  Night Maddy,” you say with a yawn.  It sounds like she’s believed you about Straussler.  Which should buy you a few more days to dig Kendra’s hooks into Carpenter before Alyssa tries to stop you.<br/>
<br/>
You get into Kendra’s bed with the satisfaction of a highly successful day behind you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You get to the coffee house early securing a booth near the back, the better to hide from anyone that might recognise either of you.  Although you’ve convinced Ian that you’re helping him make Alyssa jealous, you don’t want her to find out about Kendra’s (and it’s very much Kendra’s, not your own) burgeoning relationship with him yet.  It’s not exactly pleasant for you, having to go through with this, but it’s the best way to complete the task Patterson has set for you.<br/>
<br/>
And you’re starting to have plans of your own.<br/>
<br/>
Carpenter arrives before you can dwell too much on it.  You wave him over to your booth and pull him in beside you.  He is distant and unresponsive as you show him a little affection; a kiss here, rubbing up against him there.  You even slip one foot out a shoe and rub it up and down his leg, but he seems more interested in the watching passers by.<br/>
<br/>
You’ll have to push things a little further, you think. Kendra’s mind is set to suggest a trip to Farm Road as you gather your things to leave, when Carpenter brightens up considerably.<br/>
<br/>
He pulls you close and leans down to murmur in your ear.  “I was about to say this whole trip was a waste, but look who just walked in.”  You follow his gaze, to where a short redhead your own age and an older woman, her mother you think, have just walked in.  You don’t recognise them at all.  “I thought you cheerleaders all knew each other,” whispers Ian.  “That’s Ann from our team.”  He slips his arm round your waist.<br/>
<br/>
You quickly search Kendra’s memories to see if she recognises Ann.  The face is vaguely familiar, but Kendra simply doesn’t care about the workings of the rival school’s cheerleading team enough to care.  The only member she’d recognise on sight is…<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh shit…</i><br/>
<br/>
The only Eastman cheerleader that Kendra would recognise is Alyssa.  It’s highly likely that this Ann will tell Alyssa she saw you and Carpenter.  You think quickly, and when that comes up with a blank, you give Kendra’s persona free reign to think up a solution too.<br/>
<br/>
“I, uh, need to go to the rest room,” you say as Carpenter waves at Ann.  She looks surprised for a moment then gives a little wave back.  “I’ll catch you up outside.”<br/>
<br/>
The restrooms are down the stairs at the back, in the basement.  You don’t go all the way down.  In fact, once you’re past the first door at the top of the stairs your stop and pull out Kendra’s phone.  You punch in Maddy’s number.  She answers after the first ring.<br/>
<br/>
“Maddy, you know the coffee shop near Keyserling,” you ask, quickly taking charge of the conversation.<br/>
<br/>
“You mean Bean It, I know it, yeah” she replies slowly.  “Why?”<br/>
<br/>
“How quickly can you be out there, I need a big favour.”<br/>
<br/>
“How big,” she asks carefully.  You can hear a note of hunger in her voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Very,” you smile.  “Trust me: I’ll pay you back three times over:  I need you to intercept some cheerleader called Ann.  She’s got a story for you.”<br/>
<br/>
“This is a favour for you,” she asks, scoffing a little.  “It sounds more like a tip.”<br/>
<br/>
“I need you to tell her,” you pause to think for a moment.  “Tell her that Alyssa already knows and she wants it kept absolutely quite until she’s ready to deal with it.  Threaten her with being chucked off the team if she opens her mouth.”<br/>
<br/>
There’s a long pause at the other end.  “OK, I have two problems with that.  Firstly, this isn’t Westside – we don’t threaten people…”<br/>
<br/>
“Then tell he it’s for the good of the school then,” you interrupt.  “Or whatever it is you say over there.”<br/>
<br/>
“Second point,” continues Maddy.  “This isn’t a big favour, it’s a huge one.  Massive even.  You’re asking me to withhold information from Alyssa.  Why would I even do that?”<br/>
<br/>
“I said I’d more than return the favour,” you repeat.  “How would you like to be the one in charge of your Rumorrati?”<br/>
<br/>
There is another long pause on the phone, even longer than the last one.  “I trust Alyssa to run things,” she says very carefully.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you,” you ask.  “Do you really?  If the answer to that was yes, you’d never have talked to me in the first place.”<br/>
<br/>
Another pause, the longest yet.  This time you know you’ve hooked Maddy.  “How is this going to help with that?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’ll all make sense once you hear Ann’s story,” you explain.   “We’ll make Alyssa look bad, and you look good.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m listening,” says Maddy, almost succeeding in concealing her enthusiasm.<br/>
<br/>
“Who’s reliable,” you ask.  “Which of your Rumorrati can be trusted to be quiet if they thought Alyssa wanted them to?”<br/>
<br/>
“Summer I guess,” answers Maddy.  She sounds a bit confused.  “Tina too probably.  Why is this important?”<br/>
<br/>
You tap your feet impatiently.  “All part of the plan,” you explain, keeping a hold of Kendra’s temper – the likes of Gloria and Maria know better than to keep questioning when Chelsea is instructing them.  “You’re going to tell them Ann’s story too, and tell them that Alyssa wants it kept absolutely quiet, no mentioning it to other members of your little group, not even Alyssa herself:  Too much chance of the wrong ears overhearing it.  There’ll be someone Alyssa doesn’t trust fully,” you say, half expecting Maddy to protest.  She does not. Kendra’s instincts immediately suggest Lisa Rickover’s name.  “Lisa maybe?  So say it’s to stop them finding out and taking advantage of it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” says Maddy thoughtfully.  “But what if Alyssa does find out?  And works out it was me that talked to Summer and Tina.<br/>
<br/>
Your first thought is that you’ll have lost a pawn, but you don’t share that with Maddy.  “It’ll be Alyssa’s word against yours,” you say instead.  “And by that point her name will be mud.”<br/>
<br/>
“This is all very,” Maddy pauses for a second, trying to think up the right word.  “um… shady?  Yeah, you’re asking a lot without explaining much in return.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s going to make a lot more sense when you hear Ann’s story,” you explain.  “Once you’ve heard it, once you’ve thought it through it should be obvious how it’s going to make Alyssa look bad.  If you’re still not sure give me a call this evening.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ok, I’ll do it,” says Maddy.  “But I might change my mind once I’ve spoken to Ann.  Bye Kendra.”<br/>
<br/>
“Bye Maddy,” you say, ending the call, but what you really think is: <i>Sucker</i>.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Carpenter is leaning on a Mailbox when you emerge from the coffee house.  He smiles as he spots you.  “You OK Kendra,” he asks.  “You were gone a while.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m fine,” you say, favouring him with one of Kendra’s most winning smiles.  “I got a call from my Mom and had to spend five minutes talking to her.  You know how they can be,” you shrug.  Lying comes far more naturally to you as Kendra than it ever did to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
“Well, at least someone spotted us today,” says Carpenter quietly, glancing back inside.<br/>
<br/>
Despite your best efforts, you think.  What’s worse is that you didn’t manage to tie another string to him.  Kendra’s personality has a solution, the way she usually puts a hold on some luckless guy.  You try to banish the thought from your mind, but how else are you going to fulfil Patterson’s demand that you ruin Carpenter’s life.<br/>
<br/>
You place a hand on Carpenter’s chest and whisper huskily into his ear.  “I know another place we can go to be seen as a couple Ian.”<br/>
<br/>
He gulps nervously.  “Where?”<br/>
<br/>
“Farm Road.”</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121221
author_id: imaj
title: The Last Temptation of Maddy Caron
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Farm Road is one of the various make out spots around Saratoga Falls.  A shady, tree lined and unsurfaced road that winds its way down by the river.  It’s been a romantic getaway for generations of townsfolk, especially now that the trees are a riot of colour with the Fall.<br/>
<br/>
It’s also completely empty.<br/>
<br/>
Early Sunday afternoon isn’t a busy time for Farm Road, but you knew that when you asked Carpenter.  Or, at least, Kendra knew that.  It’s your first time here, but it’s not Kendra’s – not by a long shot.  Carpenter looks a little disappointed that it’s so quiet, so you take action to distract him.  Sinking into Kendra’s persona, trying not to think too much about what you are doing, you lay a dainty hand directly on his lap.<br/>
<br/>
“There’s no one here,” he moans.<br/>
<br/>
“They’ll come,” you say, gently rubbing.  You feel him starting to harden through the fabric of his trousers.  “You’ll come too,” you say slyly.  <i>Ugh.</i><br/>
<br/>
Carpenter groans.  He moves his arm, as if he’s about to lift your hand away.  Then he thinks better of it, then changes his mind again, and then again.  He leans his head back against the seat headrest.  He groans again as you undo his fly and fish out his semi-erect cock.  You hold onto Kendra’s personality tightly as you run your hand up and down the shaft, scratching it ever so gently with your nails.  It’s the only thing stopping you from jumping out the car and running.<br/>
<br/>
It’s the only way you’d even think of doing what you’re about to do.  Quickly, to get it over with, you bend down and kiss his member.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh Alyssa,” groans Carpenter.  You sit back up, bolt upright.<br/>
<br/>
“Alyssa,” you repeat coldly.  “That’s not my name Ian.”<br/>
<br/>
Carpenter’s eyes open suddenly.  He looks at you nervously.  “Uh,” he stammers.  “Yesterday, you wanted me to call you Alyssa.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yesterday I was helping you get over your nerves,” you say frostily.  He wilts a little.  “Today I…  Today I want you to want me for who I really am,” you continue, adding a little hint of pleading to your voice.  “Please Ian.”<br/>
<br/>
“I… Uh…” he stammers.  “I’m not sure about this.”<br/>
<br/>
Your response is a simple one:  You lift up your tee and pull it off, revealing Kendra’s breasts in all their glory.  His cock stiffens again.  “Please Ian.”<br/>
<br/>
He leans over and kisses you on the forehead.  “I want you Kendra.”<br/>
<br/>
Another little piece of Carpenter’s resistance has cracked.  Kendra’s personality is delighted but, ever the consummate manipulator, it doesn’t let its happiness show.  Instead you whimper gently, even managing to make a single tear roll down your cheek.  Carpenter hugs you tightly.<br/>
<br/>
You steel yourself as Carpenter lets go and pray that Patterson or Black never find out about this.  If it were possible, you’d wish that <i>you</i> would never find out about it, or remember doing it.  As it is, your own comfort is to sink into being Kendra.  Even she is lukewarm, seeing it as a necessary chore rather than something she actually wants.<br/>
<br/>
Better get it over with, you think.<br/>
<br/>
You lean down and wrap your lips around Carpenter’s cock.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You can’t get the taste out of your mouth.<br/>
<br/>
It’s been hours.  You’ve brushed your teeth, had a meal, brushed your teeth again and been chewing on gum all night but you still Can Not Get The Taste Out Of Your Mouth.<br/>
<br/>
You idly pop another piece of gum into your mouth, the minty flavour providing some temporary respite.  Aftertaste aside, you are sure that Carpenters starting to fall for Kendra now.  Not enough should Alyssa come calling, but a couple more dates, <i>unpleasant</i> dates probably, and you’ll have the hold over him you need.<br/>
<br/>
Then you can speak to Patterson about finding a more permanent identity for you.  One with a hot girlfriend, if you have any say on the matter.  You are mentally compiling a short list when Kendra’s iPhone goes off.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the caller ID and accept the call.  “Hi Maddy.”<br/>
<br/>
“I did it,” she says miserably.<br/>
<br/>
“Are you OK,” you ask in Kendra’s faux-concerned voice.  “You sound ill or something.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m…  I’m not sure,” she eventually says after a long pause.  “I mean, from time to time, for the good of the school, I sometimes have to lie.  Just to make sure the wrong people don’t go somewhere they shouldn’t be, or talk to someone they shouldn’t.”<br/>
<br/>
There is another long pause.  You think you can make out some snuffling on the other end.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve never lied to my friends before,” she eventually adds.  She’s clearly having second thoughts.  You ease yourself further into Kendra’s personality, the better to talk Maddy into doing what you want.<br/>
<br/>
“Not to any of the other Rumorrati,” you ask.  “Tina, Summer, Lisa, any of the others?”<br/>
<br/>
“Lisa’s not really my friend,” she says flatly and without thinking.  “I don’t trust her at all.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t understand,” you say, feigning confusion.  “Isn’t she part of your group?”<br/>
<br/>
“She is but…” Maddy pauses.  “If it was up to me she wouldn’t be.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s why you have to do this,” you say gently.  “Alyssa isn’t making the right decisions.  You have to step up and help before the shit hits the fan.”<br/>
<br/>
“It just doesn’t feel right,” she moans.<br/>
<br/>
“Nothing difficult is ever easy,” you say tritely.  Neither you nor Kendra’s personality can quiet believe how easy it is manoeuvre Maddy.  “But sometimes it hurts if you want to do the right thing.”<br/>
<br/>
“I guess,” says Maddy.  “Do you think once this is all over there’ll still be a place in the group for Alyssa?”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course,” you lie.  Hell, with the book there may not even be a place for Maddy.  A golem would do what it was told without the introspection.  “She’ll see how you’ve made Eastman a better place.  That’s all she really wants isn’t it?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” says Maddy, her voice a little firmer now.  “Thanks Kendra, you’re a real friend you know that?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s nothing,” you say disarmingly.  It’s difficult not to laugh.  “Do you understand why I asked you to do all that now?”<br/>
<br/>
“I think so,” she replies.  “You don’t want Alyssa trying to break up you and Ian yet right?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah.  I think I’m kind of falling for him,” you add dreamily.  A lie, of course, but one that should help motivate Maddy.  “There isn’t anyone like him at Westside.”<br/>
<br/>
“The great Kendra Saunders falling in love,” says Maddy, almost back to her usual self.  “I wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t told me yourself.”<br/>
<br/>
“Shut up,” you giggle.  “But yeah, I don’t want Alyssa breaking us up.  When she can’t, you’ll be the one that breaks the compromise.  If she really messes up, you can even take charge completely.”<br/>
<br/>
“Only if I have to,” says Maddy, trying to convince herself more than you.  “I’m really glad we had this talk.”<br/>
<br/>
“So am I,” you say, the warmth in your voice completely at odds with your sneering expression. “So am I.”<br/>
<br/>
With that, you bid each other farewell and hang up.<br/>
<br/>
That brings to an end the second day in your life as Kendra.  It’s back to school tomorrow and, while you’re not looking forward to dealing with Chelsea, you are sure Patterson will be happy with the progress you are making.  As you get changed for bed, you realise you’ll have to decided whether or not to let Keith and Caleb know about your new station.<br/>
<br/>
And you <i>still</i> can’t get the taste out of your mouth.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212211
author_id: imaj
title: Team Spirit
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Chelsea catches you by Kendra’s locker early on Monday morning.  She taps you on your shoulder and greets you with a predatory smile when you turn round.  You lean back against your locker and try to relax.  After all, Kendra deals with Chelsea every day.<br/>
<br/>
“I heard a little rumour,” she says airily, affecting nonchalance.  “That you crashed an Eastman party at the weekend and hooked up with one of their basketball players.”  <br/>
<br/>
<i>How does she find out these things</i>.  You look into her eyes, which bore into you back.  She wants the details, everything.  The simplest thing is to give them to her.  “It’s true,” you nod quietly.  “But I’m trying to keep quiet about it, at least for a week.”<br/>
<br/>
“Kendra, that’s so unlike you,” she whispers back.  It’s that special whisper she uses when she wants to be overheard and it carries across the hall.  Some of the other students look up from their lockers and try to watch you surreptitiously.  The word bitch comes bubbling to the top of your thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
“Let’s just say there’s some people at Eastman who wouldn’t like the idea of me being close to their team,”  you say guardedly.  Chelsea looks at you slightly askew, her eyes narrowing.  “Of course, if they don’t find out till later they might embarrass themselves trying to stop me.”<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea doesn’t have much of a reputation as a thinking, but there’s if there’s one area where she’s razor sharp it’s this.  “Who would be upset,” she asks, very quietly now.<br/>
<br/>
“Alyssa Randall,” you whisper back.<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes open wide.  “Kendra, I like it,” she smiles lazily.  “And who’s the lucky guy,” she adds, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  “But didn’t you tell me you only needed thirty minutes to steal a guy?”<br/>
<br/>
“He’s a special case,” you reply, resisting the urge to hit Chelsea.  “Got it bad for Alyssa, so he needs someone kind and considerate and caring to look after him.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, but he’s got you,” sniggers Chelsea.  You join in, despite the implied insult.  “Well I’m sure if you find out anything useful about their plays Gordon would love to hear it.”  Chelsea drifts away, smiling beatifically.  You look about the hall and all the people that were trying to listen in suddenly turn away or look back into their lockers.  All except for one.<br/>
<br/>
It’s Lynch.  The psycho cocksucker  (Kendra’s opinion, but you agree completely) is mirroring your pose, leaning back against a locker.  His face is a mask, completely impassive, but the look in his eye makes you shudder.  You’re not sure quite what it is; lust, greed, jealousy?<br/>
<br/>
As he realises you’ve spotted him, he suddenly turns his smile on and walks over.  “Hey Kendra,” he says with forced bonhomie.  “Steve wanted to let you know there was a team meeting at lunchtime.”  He lowers his voice before continuing.  “And you can let your loser friends know too.”<br/>
<br/>
You fold your arms defensively and try to look down your nose at him, running on pure Kendra instinct again.  “He said for me to tell them or for you to tell them.”  Your tone makes it clear which option you think is the correct one.<br/>
<br/>
“Well shit,” drawls Lynch.  “I can’t remember now, but I’m sure as hell not going to be telling them.  Wouldn’t want to be seen with them.”<br/>
<br/>
“And I wouldn’t want to be seen with you faggot,” you say, jabbing a finger at his chest.  His face falls.  “But here you are.  Get out of my face.”<br/>
<br/>
“That time of the month, huh,” he says, malice clear in his eyes.  He takes a couple of steps backwards from you.  “Call me when you’ve stopped being a frigid bitch.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hell will freeze over first,” you shout at his retreating back.<br/>
<br/>
Now you’d better find Keith and Caleb to let them know about the team meeting.  Well, you’d wanted to let them know about your change of face anyway.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You find your friends hanging around aimlessly in an alcove just off the hall.  If you hadn’t spent time there yourself, you’d never have looked.  Your replacement, the one controlled by Patterson, is with them.  It’s disappointing that your friends can’t tell the difference.<br/>
<br/>
“… and I’ve still got the dirt under my fingernails,” you overhear Keith say as you walk up behind him.  “I wonder what he wanted it for.”  Keith tails off when he realises Caleb is looking at him darkly.  “What,” he asks in that high pitched nasal whine of his before he turns round to see you.  “Oh.”<br/>
<br/>
You fold your arms imperiously, looking down your nose at the trio.  A few Kendra-tinged thoughts about them cross your mind – none of them pleasant.  “There’s a team meeting at lunch,” you state boldly.<br/>
<br/>
Keith’s jaw drops.  “You’re part of the team,” he asks.  “When?  Oh, I get it – you’re a golem.”  You roll your eyes.  It was hard enough to deal with Keith as yourself, now Kendra’s personality is insisting you put him down, hard.<br/>
<br/>
“More likely someone in a mask,” says Caleb.  “Lynch?”  He looks at you expectantly.<br/>
<br/>
“God, no,” you sputter.  “What is this, a guessing game?”<br/>
<br/>
“Must be Patterson then,” says Keith.  “Uh…  Please don’t hit me?”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t have time for this,” you begin to say.  You stop dead when you realise the golem is about to speak.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s me,” it says quietly.  “Or Will.  Whatever.”<br/>
<br/>
Keith’s jaw drops to the floor again, finding itself joined by Caleb’s shortly after.  The two of them look at you, then the golem and then at you again.<br/>
<br/>
“No fucking way,” says Keith.  He hesitates for second before asking:  “Um… can I have a feel?”  He makes a groping gesture with his hand.  You slap him across the face – an action that both you and Kendra’s personality feel is appropriate.  “Sorry,” he says quietly.<br/>
<br/>
“How do you get to be someone else,” ask Caleb unhappily.  “I’ve gotten more masks than you have.”<br/>
<br/>
“Take it up with Patterson,” you say, channelling a little of Kendra’s persona.  “You’re lucky I even told you.  Lynch was supposed to.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re a real friend,” snarks Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
“Take it up with Patterson,” you sneer, letting a little more Kendra into the statement than you intended.  Caleb glares back at you.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that went well.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
“It’s quality over quantity,” explains Patterson a little angrily.<br/>
<br/>
You can hardly blame him, the meeting hasn’t exactly gone well.  There’s still obvious hostility between the two halves of the team.  Black, in particular, has been looking at you like you were something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe.<br/>
<br/>
Then there was the chewing out Keith got.  He’s still not acquired a mask of Yumi like he’d been asked to.  Patterson, less than subtly, had hinted that Keith would be removed from the team if he didn’t make progress.  Patterson had also made it clear that Keith wouldn’t be able to walk away, knowing what he knows.<br/>
<br/>
Lynch had found that threat pretty funny, at least until Patterson said pretty much exactly the same thing to him.  Despite this, and you <i>almost</i> admired the foolhardiness, Caleb still decided to complain about your ‘promotion’.<br/>
<br/>
“Carpenter is worth twice as much as Javits,” explains Patterson.  “But since it means so much to you I can make you a trial member too.”<br/>
<br/>
“You can,” says Caleb, taken aback.  It’s obviously not the answer he was expecting.  The smile on Patterson’s face is worrying too.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, no problem,” replies Patterson.  He opens one of the cupboards and fishes out a couple of masks.  He gently throws them to Caleb.  “In fact I got it all ready for you.  You’re going to spend the rest of the week as Nurse Shaffer.  Get the team masks of all the hotties that walk in her door.”<br/>
<br/>
“I am,” asks Caleb, unsure of himself.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, Johansson, you are,” says Patterson acidly.  “You want on the senior team or not?  You want on, that’s what you got to do.  Prescott’s got his own task to do inside Kendra’s pretty little rear and it ain’t any nicer than yours.”<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t want to know,” you mutter to your friend.<br/>
<br/>
“Only one problem Johansson,” continues Patterson.  “You got to get a mask of Shaffer first.  Get the mask, make the switch.  Put that mask of you on her and she’ll fill in for you while you’re away.”<br/>
<br/>
“How am I going to do that,” wails Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
“Have and accident or something,” mutters Patterson.  “Like I care.”<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe I can help,” interrupts Black.  He walks over to Caleb and punches him straight on the nose.  “Tell her you walked into a door,” he sniggers.  Blood is streaming freely down your friends face.  “Oh man, I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”<br/>
<br/>
Caleb runs out the door, tears welling up in his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“Meeting over,” says Patterson.  You watch as your team mates start to drift off.  You are turning to leave when Patterson puts his hand on your shoulder and grips you firmly.  “Not you Prescott.  I got one more thing for you before you go.”  He hands you a scrap of paper.  You examine it carefully, it has an address written on it.  “After school,” he grunts before ushering you out the door.<br/>
<br/>
Keith is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs down to the gym.  He grabs hold of you by the arms with uncharacteristic urgency.<br/>
<br/>
“Did you hear what he said,” he asks almost frantically.  “He’s going to make me like Richards.  You got to help me get Yumi.  Help me get her tonight.”</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122111
author_id: imaj
title: The House That Steve Built
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“Are you mad,” you hiss, pulling him back into the stairwell before anyone sees you.  “Get a hold of yourself.  What if someone saw you? Saw <i>us</i>.”<br/>
<br/>
Keith breathes in and out rapidly.  He’s on the verge of hyperventilating.  “He’s going to turn me to stone,” he manages to say.  “To stone!  You gotta help me.”  You slap him sharply across the face.  It’s enough to stun him.  “What was that for?”<br/>
<br/>
“You needed it,” you explain calmly.  “Look, I can’t help you.  <i>Tonight</i>.  Patterson’s got me running another one of his top secret errands, but we’ll get Yumi tomorrow.  Ok?”<br/>
<br/>
“Promise,” he whines.  He really has no idea how irritating his voice sounds.  You slap him again.  “What was that for?  I’m calm now”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, but I can see Gloria is watching us from across the gym now,” you explain very quietly.  “And she’s going to want to know why you were talking to me, and she’s going to tell Chelsea all about it because she’s a bitch.”  You drive the heel of your shoe into Keith’s foot.  He yelps.  “So,” you explain calmly.  “I’m going to tell her you were being a sleazeball and I had to put you down.  I really don’t enjoy doing this, you know” you lie.  “And don’t be surprised when Seth pays you a visit after school.”<br/>
<br/>
You step smartly away from Keith, smiling faintly.  Behind you, you can hear the sound of Keith hopping on one foot as he tries to massage the foot you just trod on.  All too predictably, you soon hear the sound of him crashing to the floor as he loses his balance.  But you ignore all this and give Gloria a friendly wave as you cross the gym.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey girl,” you say with false bonhomie.  Kendra cordially and mutually detests Gloria and has done so since middle school.  Only Chelsea keeps the pair in check.  “You got anything for Chels?”<br/>
<br/>
She links her arm with your as you walk out the gym.  “Only that you beat down some loser.  What was that about?”<br/>
<br/>
“Sleazeball,” you explain with a shudder.  “I think he’s learned his lesson.”<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe Chelsea will want him to learn some more,” says Gloria.  She pulls her hand free of you and forms a fist.  You do the same.  One, two, three:  Her paper beats your rock.  “I’ll tell her,” she says a little smugly, linking arms with you again.  “Hey,” she says as you pass a set of toilets.  “Mind if we stop to freshen up?”<br/>
<br/>
There’s a blank mask in your purse.  A couple in fact, as one of the tasks Patterson has set you is to get a copy of the cheerleaders that haven’t been copied yet.  Kendra’s persona chafes at the bit – she’d like nothing more than to use a copy of this bitch to take her down a peg or two.  “Sure,” you dimple, fingering your purse.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You check the address on the scrap of paper Patterson gave you and look at the house in front of you.  It’s definitely the right place – a nice suburban house in Acheson.  White picket fence, garage with a station wagon parked out front.  <i>Why here</i>, you think.<br/>
<br/>
You ring the doorbell.  After a few moments a plump, pleasantly round faced middle aged woman in a pantsuit opens the door.  “Prescott,” she snarls, the words are complete odd with the face.  “Get the fuck in here.”  You don’t have time to be shocked as she hustles you inside and into a sparsely furnished room.  The girl you created to seduce Chelsea stands in the middle of the room – a golem presumably.  Its hands rest on its hips angrily.  “Get this girl to do what she’s told,” the woman growls.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re not my mother,” the golem shouts back.<br/>
<br/>
Now you’re totally lost.  You look from the golem, to the woman and back again, not knowing where to begin.  “Can someone just please tell me what’s going on?”<br/>
<br/>
The woman just snarls unintelligibly, but the golem begins to speak.  “Your friend dragged me over here last night, and I went with him because you told me not to worry,” it explains.  It takes a minute for you to realise that it’s referring to Patterson.  “But this woman showed up today and said that she’s my mother and my name’s Zoe and fuck that.”<br/>
<br/>
“Your fucking name is Zoe now,” explodes the woman.  “I’ve even got her ID to say it fucking is.”  Her attitude jogs your memory and the pieces finally come together.<br/>
<br/>
“Patterson,” you ask the woman.<br/>
<br/>
“Obviously,” she replies, glancing at the ceiling.  “I’ve got identities set up for these two.  Zoe Edgars and her mother Janet.  Zoe starts at Westside on Wednesday, Janet start her new job next week.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wait,” you interrupt.  “How did you…” you gesture at the room around you.  “How did you arrange all this?”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson sneers unpleasantly.  “I got us a team sponsor.”  It occurs to you that you don’t want to know.<br/>
<br/>
There is one thing you are curious about though.  “You’re not planning on being this woman, are you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Got another one of those golem things cooking in the basement,” he explains.  “Just had to be her today to set up Zoe at Westside.  Now tell her who she is while I get changed.”  Patterson swaggers out the room, leaving you alone with the irate golem.<br/>
<br/>
“My name is Chris,” it spits.<br/>
<br/>
“I know, I know,” you say, trying to calm it down.  “But you don’t look like Chris anymore.  You’re going to need all this,” you say, waving your arms around.  “Somewhere to live.  Paperwork.  That sort of thing.  I don’t know how he did it, but if he says you’re called Zoe then that’s who you’re going to have to be.”<br/>
<br/>
“My name’s the only thing I have left of me,” says the golem sullenly.  “And now I’m going to lose it too.”<br/>
<br/>
“Look,” you begin, trying to think of something to say to convince the golem.  You drift into silence when nothing presents itself to you.  “Why am I even wasting my time with this,” you mutter.  “You like the new you.  It’s a fresh start.  You don’t mind being called Zoe, you need a new name for your new body.  Janet is your mother,” you say firmly, hoping the commands take with the golem.<br/>
<br/>
The change in the golem’s demeanour is astounding.  It straightens itself and blinks a couple of times.  “Will,” it says quietly.  “What was I…  I don’t remember.”<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t worry about it,” you say soothingly.<br/>
<br/>
“So you stole that girl’s life,” the golem says with just a hint of reproach.<br/>
<br/>
“More like borrowed it,” you equivocate.  “Call me Kendra now.  I’m going to be your new best friend when you start at Westside.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m looking forward to it,” says the golem insouciantly.<br/>
<br/>
“We good now,” asks Patterson as he wanders back into the room.  You nod meekly.  “’bout time,” he continues.  “Listen up Prescott, next stage of the plan is that I’m gonna want a space in the cheerleader team for Zoe to drop into.  Easiest way to get her close to Chelsea.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know anything about cheerleading,” says the golem, a trace of its earlier intransigence working its way back into its tone.<br/>
<br/>
“And I’ve got no idea how to get someone off the team, short of quitting myself,” you whine.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson takes a deep breath.  “Firstly,” he says counting off on his fingers.  “You’ve got the body for it.  Hot and an athlete.  Prescott will teach you some of the moves.  <i>Tonight</i>.  Secondly,” he says, addressing you directly.  “You might be too dumb to work out how, but Kendra isn’t.  Take a look inside that scheming little head of hers and work something out.  Thirdly, I’m outta here, so any more problems you better fucking well sort them yourselves because I ain’t going to.”  He folds his arms and sneers down at you. “Clear?”<br/>
<br/>
“Crystal,” you say quickly.<br/>
<br/>
“Can you really teach me how,” whispers the golem to you as Patterson stomps out.<br/>
<br/>
“I think so,” you reply.  “I mean, you’ve got a bit of Maria in your body and she’s a cheerleader.  Andrea’s the captain of the swim team, so she’s an athlete too.  All we need is some space and I can show you the basics.”<br/>
<br/>
“Come through the back then,” says the golem.  “Plenty of space in the garden.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The sight of the Zoe golem turning cartwheels in the garden comes swimming back into your memory as you lie in Kendra’s bed, trying to get to sleep.  You can’t help but reach between your legs and gently rub yourself <i>there</i>.  A little shiver travels up your spine.  If you are any judge of the mindset of the typical Westside student, and you still remember what it was like to be one of unpopular masses, Zoe will be featuring in the fantasies of a lot of them.  If Chelsea doesn’t fall for the golem, she’ll be in a minority, and a small one at that.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, you’re feeling confident about the plan for the first time as you turn your thoughts towards your next task.  If there’s going to be a space on the cheerleading team for the golem, that means someone else has to be removed.  In practice that means persuading Chelsea to remove someone, such is her hold over the team.  You know, or more accurately, Kendra knows that Chelsea has been looking for an excuse to ‘deal with’ Cindy.  It wouldn’t be too hard to give her a nudge in the right direction.<br/>
<br/>
At the same time, you’ve spent the last few days so seeped into Kendra’s personality that you can feel its wants and needs almost instinctively.  Gloria’s name keeps on bubbling on your lips and there is nothing that Kendra would like more than to see that hateful bitch brought low.<br/>
<br/>
So, who’s going to make room for Zoe on the team?</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121221111
author_id: imaj
title: 800 things I hate about Keith
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“You’re going to help me now,” asks Keith as you enter the Fuck Room.<br/>
<br/>
He asked you first thing this morning as well.  You told him to meet you here after last period.  Of course, he asked again the next time he saw you.  And every subsequent time during the day.  Every single time.<br/>
<br/>
And now he’s run over from his maths class, just to make sure he got here as quickly as possible.  It’s mercifully empty as Black and Patterson are having an after school practice session with the basketball team.  Lynch is doing whatever it is he does – probably kicking puppies somewhere.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” you say patiently, handing him the mask you copied from Gloria yesterday and a pile of clothes.  “Get changed into this and we’ll get started.”<br/>
<br/>
“What, now” asks Keith, peering at the mask, trying to make out who is contained within.  “In front of you?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you sigh.  A little flash of memory hits you – Caleb’s initiation to the team, seen from the other side.  It really <i>isn’t</i> anything you haven’t seen before.  You bite your lip nervously as Keith pulls off his trousers haphazardly and try to suppress Kendra’s emotions.<br/>
<br/>
“Who is this,” he asks unbuttoning his shirt, twisting a little to talk to you.  “Gloria?”  Your eyes stray downward and you catch a brief glimpse of his cock.  Your pulse quickens as Kendra’s memories stir unbidden.  Christ, does she really have the hots for <i>him</i> of all people.  A treacherous little inner voice pops up and shouts <i>he’s certainly bigger than Ian</i>.  “Where did you get the clothes?”<br/>
<br/>
“Her locker,” you say quickly, looking away.  “Yeah I know the combination to it,”  you explain.  “She keeps a spare set of clothes in there just in case, you know,”  you make a vomiting motion with your mouth and hand.  “She makes a mess.”<br/>
<br/>
“Makes a mess of what,” asks Keith, failing to pick up on your meaning as usual.<br/>
<br/>
“Never mind,” you say, turning your back to him completely now.  <i>Think unsexy thoughts</i>.  “You’ll find out”<br/>
<br/>
There is a minute or so of complete silence.  Keith must have put the mask on, but you don’t dare turn round to check.  “Are we going to go to Yumi’s and get the mask there or something,” he asks with Gloria’s voice.  You turn round to see him hauling himself to his feet, now looking identical to your, no Kendra’s, hated rival.  To your relief, the flush of anger you feel drowns out the lingering embers of Kendra’s arousal.<br/>
<br/>
“Eventually,” you say.  You open Kendra’s book bag and fish out a sheaf of papers.  “Take these,” you say, handing them over.<br/>
<br/>
Keith places them to one side as he finishes putting on Gloria’s clothes.  “What’s this?”<br/>
<br/>
“Well, we’re going to record a little play acting before we head out,” you smile.  “Don’t worry, it won’t take long.  I’ve written a little script for you to follow there.”<br/>
<br/>
“Uh, what about your lines,” asks Keith as he buttons up Gloria’s jeans.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh I’ve memorized all mine,” you smile.  Of course you have – Kendra’s persona is looking forward to this.<br/>
<br/>
Keith looks through the paper.  “Oh,” he stutters.  “If Chelsea heard me, I mean Gloria, saying this she’d go ballistic.”  He cocks his head to one side for a second.  “By the way am I really,” he mimes sticking a finger down his throat.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes she is,” you say.  “And yes she is.  That’s kind of the point.”<br/>
<br/>
“Does Patterson know about this,” he asks, raising an eyebrow.<br/>
<br/>
“No,” you say flatly.  It’s only sort of a lie.  “Look, if I’m going to be stuck like this,” you explain, gesturing at yourself.  “I want to make my life a little more bearable.  Look at Gloria’s memories, you’ll see.”<br/>
<br/>
“We hate each other,” asks Keith thoughtfully.  “Yes, we hate each other.  Wow, I’d never have guessed that.”<br/>
<br/>
You pull out Kendra’s cell phone and start fiddling with it.  “I’ll just set this to record and we can do this.”<br/>
<br/>
“And then we’ll get Yumi,” asks Keith.<br/>
<br/>
“And then we’ll get Yumi,” you agree.  “And Lin, and Michelle and Cindy.”  You stab the screen of the cell with a finger.  “Ok, go.”<br/>
<br/>
Keith grabs the paper and raise one arm into the air like some bad actor.  “I’m getting sick of the way Chelsea’s been pushing me around this last week,” he says hammily.  You bury your head in your hands.  “What,” he asks, genuinely confused.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re Gloria Rea,” you explain, tapping Kendra’s phone to stop the recording.  “Not William Shatner.  Dial it down a little, try to act more natural.  You can tap into her personality, try that.”  You start the phone recording again.  “Take two,” you say, with more than a little sarcasm.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m getting sick of the way Chelsea’s been pushing me around this last week,” repeats Keith, this time sounding much more natural.<br/>
<br/>
“Gloria,” you say, recalling your line with perfect clarity.  “Everything makes you sick.”<br/>
<br/>
You end up needing several more takes, but finally Keith gets it right.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="left">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Patterson is waiting for you when you return to the Fuck Room a few hours later.  You’d texted him to let him know you’d got the masks, of course, you just didn’t expect him to collect them personally.<br/>
<br/>
“Girls,” he snickers, lounging casually on a crate with a beer in one hand.  “Which one of you is Tilley.”  Keith raises his hand nervously and Patterson immediately jumps up.  The beer seems to vanish and next thing you know, he’s standing right in front of Keith, radiating anger.  He jabs a finger at Keith, stopping inches from his face.  Keith reels as if he has been slapped.  “You’re lucky your friend here is such a stand up guy Tilley,” he almost shouts.  “Me, I’d have cut you fucking loose like the idiot you are.”  You can actually see Keith shaking, he’s terrified.  “Instead I gotta give you a new job.  Just don’t fuck it up too.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” he quavers.  “I mean no.  I mean I won’t fuck it up.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’d better not,” he snarls.  “You got Yumi’s mask?”<br/>
<br/>
“I have it,” you interrupt, pulling it and the rest of your captures out of your bag.  “Yumi, Lin, Michelle and Cindy – Every cheerleader we were missing.”  You think for a second.  “Except Chelsea, of course, because we’re not supposed to touch her.  Obviously.  Black made that clear,” you ramble.  <br/>
<br/>
“I’ll take those,” says Patterson, snatching the masks from you.  He turns back to Keith  “Get the fuck out of here Tilley,  I gotta talk to your friend.  I’ll give you your new job tomorrow”<br/>
<br/>
“My… My clothes,” stammers Keith.  Patterson grabs Keith’s clothes from a pile on the floor and throws them at him.  Keith yelps as they hit him in the face.  He gathers them together and runs out.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson sniffs the air theatrically and laughs.  “I think he crapped himself.  How do you put up with that fuckwit?”<br/>
<br/>
You shrug.  “Someone has to,” you say.  “He’s not that bad once you get to know him.  Actually, no, he is that bad.  The smell gets a little more tolerable though.”  <br/>
<br/>
Patterson barks a laugh.  “At least you get the job done,” he says, with a hint of menace.  “You do get the job done, don’t you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” you say, managing to hold onto your nerve only by sinking into being Kendra.  You pull out her cell phone and set the recording you made earlier to play.  “Gloria will be out the team by tomorrow.  Listen to this.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson takes the phone and listens.  He laughs as the recording plays out.  “The bit about Cindy is going to get Chelsea mad,” he grins.  “You got Tilley to do Gloria,  yeah?”  You nod.  “Fucker does have his uses after all,” he sniggers.  “Now scram, I gotta spend some quality time with Yumi here.  Prissy little bitch isn’t gonna turn me down this time.”<br/>
<br/>
You take Kendra’s phone back from Patterson and head downstairs.  There is no sign of Keith in the gym, so you pull the phone again and dial Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi Kendra,” chirps Chelsea after a few rings.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey girl,” you reply cheerfully before becoming more serious. “Listen Chels, we…”<br/>
<br/>
“Got to talk,” interrupts Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
“How did you know,” you ask with a gasp.<br/>
<br/>
“You were using your ‘we’ve got to talk voice’ again Kendra,” she explains.  “Duh.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well, I wouldn’t be using it if we didn’t need to talk,” you rally. “This is big, you got half an hour to meet?”</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212211111
author_id: imaj
title: Gunning for Gloria
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>'I've already spoken with Cindy,' says the tinny sounding recording of Gloria's voice.  'I could use your support Kendra, but if you don't, that won't stop me.  And I always remember who my friends are.'  The recording cuts out and you put Kendra's phone back in your bag.<br/>
<br/>
'What did you tell her,' asks Chelsea quietly, her face a mask.<br/>
<br/>
'That I'd think about it,' you reply.  Chelsea frowns.  'She'd have been suspicious otherwise,' you explain.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea drums her fingers on her dressing table for a minute.  'Thank you for letting me hear this,' she eventually says, pasting a smile onto her face.<br/>
<br/>
You sit in silence for another minute before finally asking:  'What are you going to do?'<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea pulls her laptop over and opens it.  Despite the angle, you can make out her Facebook page on the screen.  'I'll deal with it,' she says evenly whilst tapping out a message.  'I'll see you tomorrow,' says Chelsea, her attention fixed firmly on the screen in front of her.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's revenge plays itself out the following day, slowly unfolding itself in front of you.<br/>
<br/>
It starts during third period, in the Parenting class that Kendra and Gloria share. You saw Gloria during cheerleader practice, but she doesn't show up to this one.<br/>
<br/>
You twist round in your seat.  'Have you seen Gloria,' you ask the girl at the bench behind your own.  It's Beth Tanner, a gossipy little chatterbox that Kendra would normally regard with distaste<br/>
<br/>
'You haven't heard,' says Beth a little smugly.  Of course, she's pleased to know a rumour that you, Kendra Saunders ' Chelsea's chief agent, does not.  She smiles faintly, determined to spin this one out.<br/>
<br/>
'No, I haven't,' you reply, gritting your teeth and keeping a hold on Kendra's rising anger.<br/>
<br/>
'She's in Sagansky's office,' gushes Beth, her urge to share the gossip finally winning out.  'I heard they found a bottle of whiskey in her locker.'<br/>
<br/>
'Really,' you ask.<br/>
<br/>
'Yah, really,' says Beth guilelessly.  She pauses for a second.  'Hey Kendra,' she says a little nervously.  'When you tell Chelsea about this, could you let her know it was me that told you?'<br/>
<br/>
<i>She already knows</i>, you think.  What you say, however, is:  'I'd be glad to Beth.'  Her smile broadens.  Beth opens her mouth to say something and then stops.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever it is, gets lost.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, she shuts her mouth primly.  You turn to face the front and see the reason for her sudden silence ' Zoe:  The golem you built out of Andrea Varnsworth, Maria Vasquez and Tina from Eastman.  It's looking absolutely devastating in a pleated grey miniskirt, tight blouse and pink sweater combo.  To be honest, it would look devastating in an old sack.  The few boys in the class sit staring, mouths agape.  Some of the girls are too.<br/>
<br/>
Even the teacher, Mr Carr seems caught up in the golems spell.  'Uh, class,' he mutters, fumbling at his tie.  'This is, uh, Zoe, who's joining us from today.'  He turns back to the golem.  'There's a seat there,' he says more quietly, gesturing towards you.<br/>
<br/>
The golem hoists its book bag back on its shoulder and, clutching a textbook, makes its way towards you.  'Hi, I'm Zoe,' it says, slipping lithely into the seat next to your and offering you its hand.<br/>
<br/>
'Kendra,' you reply, smiling dazzlingly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
The next act occurs immediately after class, when you catch up with Yumi during the changeover.<br/>
<br/>
'Kendra,' she says a little coolly.  She tilts her head and looks behind you as the Zoe golem follows along in your wake.  'Who's your new friend?'<br/>
<br/>
'This is Zoe,' you say, ignoring Yumi's demeanour.  She's not worth the effort, not at the moment.  'She just started at Westside today and I'm showing her around.'<br/>
<br/>
A brief look of dread passes over Yumi's face as she works through the implications of what you've just said.  'You're showing her around,' she asks, stressing the <i>you're</i> just enough to indicate her disapproval.  'That's really friendly of you.  Hey Zoe,' she says, turning to the golem.  'If you need anything, just let me know.'<br/>
<br/>
You frown for few seconds.  The implied insult and rather blatant attempt to get Zoe away from you aren't a threat, the golem will do exactly what you tell it to do anyway, but the look of the thing is important.  'This is Yumi,' you say, making it clear that the cheer in your voice is forced.  'She's one of my team mates on the cheerleading squad.'<br/>
<br/>
'Pleased to meet you,' says Zoe, offering Yumi its hand.  'Hey, I was a cheerleader at my old school.  Do you think I could try out for the squad or something?'  Yumi's expression looks pained for a moment.<br/>
<br/>
'The squad's full right now,' you say idly, watching Yumi very closely for any reaction.  'If a spot opened you could try out,' you finish.  Yumi grimaces again, right on cue.  She does know something.  'There isn't a spot right now, is there Yumi,' you ask innocently.<br/>
<br/>
She looks away from you for a moment.  'I don't know,' she says quietly.  Yumi isn't a gossip by nature and it looks like she has no desire to share her information with you.<br/>
<br/>
'You've heard something though,' you say, your eyes narrowing.  'Haven't you?'<br/>
<br/>
Yumi blushes.  'All I've heard is they found something in Gloria's locker,' she says reluctantly.<br/>
<br/>
'Something?'<br/>
<br/>
'Look, I heard it was drugs or something,' replies Yumi, anger edging into her voice.  'I don't know and I don't want to know.  I don't want to play your games either,' she says pushing past you aggressively.<br/>
<br/>
'What was that about,' asks Maria as she ambles along side you.  She doesn't wait for your answer.  'Oh hey Gloria,' she rambles.  'No, not Gloria.'<br/>
<br/>
'Zoe,' says the golem, offering her hand again.  Now that you think about it, the golems dark red hair reminds you a little of Gloria's.<br/>
<br/>
'Hi Zoe,' says Maria cheerfully, forgetting her train of thought.  She frowns.  'Oh shoot.  What was I meant to tell you?'  She stands for a moment, rocking back and forth slightly, her face scrunched up in thought.  'Chelsea's having a meeting at lunchtime,' she suddenly exclaims.  'All the cheerleaders, in the gym.  And she wants you to pass the word around.'  With that pronouncement, Maria wanders off without another word.<br/>
<br/>
'Is she for real,' asks the golem.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
A hand reaches out from a room and pulls you brusquely inside shortly before you reach the gym at lunch.  'What the fuck have you gotten me involved with,' says Keith angrily, pushing you against a wall.  You hold up your hands untill he loosens his grasp.<br/>
<br/>
'I don't know what you're talking about,' you say innocently.<br/>
<br/>
'Gloria,' he says, gesturing frantically with his hands.  'They found a fucking gun in her locker.  <i>A fucking gun</i>.  You're seriously telling me what we did last night isn't part of this?'<br/>
<br/>
'Who told you that,' you scoff.<br/>
<br/>
'Carson Ioeger,'<br/>
<br/>
'And you believed him,' you reply.  His shoulders sink a little.<br/>
<br/>
'The found something in her locker, at least,' he says a little more calmly now.  'And we're involved.'<br/>
<br/>
'All part of Patterson's plan,' you say smoothly.  'Besides, how could anyone link <i>you</i> to whatever Gloria has said or done?  Unless you do something dumb like keeping on accosting me around the school.'<br/>
<br/>
Keith takes a step back.  'Ok, ok,' he says.  'Just don't get me involved in any more of your schemes.'<br/>
<br/>
'Yeah, well,' you snort.  'It's a bit late for that now.  You know the only way Patterson is going to let us out of this, don't you?'  Keith's face goes deathly pale.  'I thought so.'<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
'Gloria has a problem,' says Chelsea, oozing sincerity.  Bar Gloria herself, the whole team has assembled.  Even Coach Tesla has put in an appearance.  She stands beside Chelsea, blinking as if she is unused to the light.  'And it's up to us, her team mates to, help her.'<br/>
<br/>
You watch the rest of the team closely.  Eva nudges her sister with an elbow and whispers something in her ear.  Yumi looks around and, when it's clear that no one else is going to say anything, speaks.  'Of course Chelsea,' she says.  'What can we do to help?'<br/>
<br/>
'You've heard the rumours,' says Chelsea.  She casts a sly glance at Coach Tesla who looks thoroughly miserable.  'The truth is that Principal Sagansky found a half empty bottle of whiskey in her locker.'  Chelsea pauses to let the news sink in.  'Gloria has had a problem for a while.'  Chelsea looks at you expectantly.  You think you know what she wants.<br/>
<br/>
'It true,' you say remorsefully.  'I'd seen the signs.  I wanted to help her,' you sniffle.  'I didn't know who to talk to.  I just hope Gloria can get the help she needs to deal with her drink problem now.'  Coach Tesla looks directly at you.<br/>
<br/>
'We all do,' says Chelsea, twisting the knife.  There is a murmur of agreement from the team.  'But at the same time, we need to give her space.  I've spoken to Coach Tesla and we agree that Gloria should take a break from the team.  We'll hold a try out for a temporary replacement tomorrow morning.  Once Gloria is' <i>better</i>' we'll welcome her back.'<br/>
<br/>
Well, this is what Patterson was looking for ' a chance to get the golem on the team.  Will you put Zoe forward for the try out, or play it safe just now?</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122111111
author_id: imaj
title: A Little Taste of Power
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“Ok Yumi,” you say, clapping your hands.  “Show us a backflip.”  You cast your gaze away from Yumi as she completely your request with characteristic skill to where Chelsea is sitting.  She’s watching from high up in the seats at the side of the gym ‘to totally get a better view’.  Coach Tesla sits a few seats away from her, but she might as well be on another planet for all the attention Chelsea pays her.  Instead the team captain watches the trials with interest, her rapt gaze never flickering for more than a few seconds.<br/>
<br/>
You consider the girls trying out yourself.  Chelsea asked you to run them through their paces and the little sliver of Kendra’s personality that you wrap yourself in as a disguise is enjoying itself thoroughly.  <i>Someday I’ll be doing this for real</i> it thinks.  “Can you all try that for yourselves,” you say to the girls.<br/>
<br/>
Cassie Harper is the first to try.  You can’t imagine what she was thinking coming along to the try outs, but she makes an appalling mess, landing on the floor in a jumble of limbs with a fit of giggles.  Her friend Beth Tanner follows suit, actually completing the flip before stumbling and collapsing on top of Cassie.  A fresh burst of giggles immediately follows.  Neither girl has a chance.<br/>
<br/>
Jenny Ashton is a different story, she manages the manoeuvre a little stiffly.  In reality, she has just as little chance as Cassie and Beth – her close friendship with Yumi makes it highly unlikely Chelsea will pick her.  Yumi nonetheless offers her friend an encouraging ‘well done’.  A few other girls neither you Kendra immediately recognise complete their backflips with varying degrees of success.  Not that they matter either – all are too unimportant or insignificant to warrant Chelsea’s attention.<br/>
<br/>
Only the last three girls are serious contenders.  Kelsey Blakenship and Megan Farris both manage to complete their backflips with a minimum of flair.  From Kendra’s memories you know that Chelsea has been anxious to break into, and possibly break up, Kelsey’s little circle of wealthy AP girls for some time.  You suspect that Chelsea’s already lined up Kelsey as the winner of today’s try outs.  On any other day, she might be.<br/>
<br/>
But then the Zoe golem makes her attempt.  Somehow, you’re not sure from where, Patterson has already found her a cheerleading outfit from a different school.  The silvery grey uniform with gold trim makes her stand out from the rest of the try outs.  She executes the flip, somehow managing to make Yumi’s attempt look clumsy, her hair catches the light as it bounces in its high ponytail.  Cassie actually sighs enviously as she watches the golem.<br/>
<br/>
“Let’s wrap it up there,” shouts Chelsea, walking down the stairs towards you.  You move away from the rest of the team and meet her at the edge of the gym floor.  “What do you think of Kelsey,” she says quietly to you.<br/>
<br/>
You arch a perfect eyebrow.  “You mean at the tryout, or in general,” you say, twisting Kendra’s mouth into an ironic smirk.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t try to be clever,” murmurs Chelsea, and insincere smile fixed on her face.  “It doesn’t suit you.”  She waves at the assembled try outs with fake warmth.<br/>
<br/>
“She’s adequate,” you whisper.  “Barely.  The new girl made her look like whale in sneakers.”<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea nods slightly.  “But we don’t know anything about her.  We know Kelsey.”<br/>
<br/>
“We do,” you admit.  “How long do you think she’ll be happy to play second fiddle to you?”  Chelsea winces.  “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust that bitch as far as I could throw her, which like wouldn’t be far at all, what with all the weight she’s put on recently.  I’ve already made friends with Zoe, I think she’ll fit in very well.”<br/>
<br/>
“And if she turns out to be a bitch as well?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sure there’s still some cheap liquor in Tesla’s stash that you haven’t stolen yet,” you reply.  “And you’ll be able to work out Zoe’s locker combination too.”<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea smirks.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” she whispers before turning and addressing the girls.  “I’d like to thank you all for coming today,” she continues, playing magnanimous for a change.  “You all did very well, and anyone of you would fit into our team.”  The Garner twins elbow one and other and snigger.  “But at the same time, we only have one spot available and that goes to…”  Chelsea stalls, spinning the thing our.  You look at the faces: Cassie, still hoping against hope.  Kelsey has a smug confidence written all over her, like she knows something everyone else doesn’t.  The golem looks flushed but confident, clearly enjoying the work out.  “Zoe.”<br/>
<br/>
You’d have to be watching very closely to spot the sarcasm in its voice.  “Ohmygod, Ohmygod,” it exclaims, bouncing on the spot a couple of times before running over and hugging you.  You don’t really notice, as you are paying far too much attention to Kelsey – the shocked look on her face is priceless.  “I won’t let you down,” says the golem to Chelsea once it finishes hugging you.  “You can rely on me.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sure we can,” smiles Chelsea.  “Would you like to hang out with me and Maria after school, just so I can get you up to speed on the team?”<br/>
<br/>
The golem glances at you and you nod imperceptibly.  “I’d love to,” it beams.  You leave it to lap up the congratulations of its new team mates.  You’re more interested in where Kelsey and Megan are going.<br/>
<br/>
You catch up with the two AP set girls outside the gym.  Kelsey is visibly seething and she snaps an angry ‘What’ at you when you place your arm on her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
“I just wanted to talk,” you say, using Kendra’s patented ‘we need to talk voice’.<br/>
<br/>
“So talk,” replies Kelsey angrily.<br/>
<br/>
“Chelsea promised you a spot on the team, didn’t she,” you whisper into Kelsey’s ear.  You look into her eyes as you lean back – it’s clear you’ve hit the mark.<br/>
<br/>
“Obviously she <i>didn’t</i>,” replies Kelsey.  Megan just shrugs her shoulders apologetically.  “Otherwise <i>I’d</i> be the one in there laughing and joking with <i>my</i> new teammates.”<br/>
<br/>
“Chelsea just said Zoe was too good to pass up,” you say.  “I’d have picked you in a second, I mean, do we know <i>anything </i>about that girl?”<br/>
<br/>
“You aren’t the captain though,” bristles Kelsey.<br/>
<br/>
“I can still get you on the team,” you say softly.  “Both of you.  You still want that?”<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey puts her hands on her hips and stares straight at you.  “Like I should believe anything I hear about the cheerleading team now.”<br/>
<br/>
“I can make sure there are another couple of vacancies,” you say in a half musical voice.  “And convince Chelsea to make the right decision this time.”<br/>
<br/>
“What do you want,” interrupts Megan.  Kelsey glances at her but offers no reproach – clearly she wants to know the cost of your intervention too.<br/>
<br/>
“Chelsea promised you a spot on the team,” you repeat.  “She wanted your support in return, yeah?”  Kelsey nods curtly.  “And then she betrayed you, that’s not the kind of thing a good captain does, is it?”  Kelsey nods again.  “Let’s just say that sometime soon the captaincy might be changing, and I’d want you to support someone who <i>would </i>be a good captain.”<br/>
<br/>
You have no idea where that idea came from.  It has nothing to do with Patterson’s plans for Chelsea at all.  At the same time, Kendra’s personality sometimes seems to have a will of its own, making little changes here and there.  You had no intention of lingering in her identity once you complete Patterson’s plan, but a little Kendra tinged thought is intruding on your mind – <i>Wouldn’t it be great to become head cheerleader once Chelsea is ruined?</i><br/>
<br/>
“I see,” says Kelsey evenly.<br/>
<br/>
“Well,” you ask.  “Could you support a better captain?”<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121221111111
author_id: imaj
title: An Increasingly Tangled Web
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“I think we can manage that,” says Kelsey after a few seconds.  Megan nods her head fervently.<br/>
<br/>
You smile lazily.  Digging into Kendra’s persona, playing people against each other, is something you are increasingly getting used to.  “I’ll see you around then girls.  I’ve got some people to talk to.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
‘Some people’ is the Garner sisters, and you talk to them at their lockers just before lunch.  You have a plan that’s going to achieve something Chelsea has never been able to – force the Garners off the cheerleading team.  <br/>
<br/>
Eva regards you coolly as you approach, her nose crinkling with distaste.  She’s leaning back on a closed locker while her sister is rummaging through the lower shelves of an open one.  Both sisters have a reputation as barely controlled bundles of violent tension, but if one is worse than the other it’s Eva.  Or it might be Jessica, Kendra’s never cared enough to make much distinction between the two.<br/>
<br/>
“Eva, Jess, we need to talk,” you open, rolling out the ‘we need to talk voice’ again.<br/>
<br/>
Jessica sighs and stands up.  She turns round and looks at you with a weary expression.  “I don’t have time for games,” she says.  “And I don’t have time for you either Kendra.  Why don’t you run off back to Chelsea now?”<br/>
<br/>
“Well if you don’t want to hear about our new teammate,” you reply slyly.  The sisters look at each other.  Eva nods and Jessica rolls her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“You’ve got one minute,” says Jessica frostily<br/>
<br/>
“Somewhere private,” you ask hopefully.<br/>
<br/>
Jessica’s eyes narrow, but she gestures towards an empty classroom with a nod of her head.  You follow her in with Eva bringing up the rear.  Eva closes the door to the class behind you, leaning on it to block your exit.  “Well,” says Jessica.  “Spit it out.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s the new girl on the team,” you explain. “Zoe.  She told me she was into girls.”<br/>
<br/>
“What,” says Eva, sounding confused.<br/>
<br/>
“I mean like a dyke,” you explain.  “I’m as open minded about that as the next person,” you add.  “But I’m not sure I like the idea of her changing in the locker room with us.  <i>Watching us</i>.”<br/>
<br/>
“I see,” says Jessica evenly.  Eva’s hands are balling into fists.  Kendra knows the sisters well enough to have guessed that this would be their reaction.  “Does Chelsea know?”<br/>
<br/>
“I told her,” you say, radiating false concern.  “But she didn’t seem to care.  She was so keen to get Zoe onto the squad…”<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you Kendra,” says Jessica primly.  She grabs hold of her sister by the arm forcefully and departs without so much as a ‘thank you or ‘goodbye’.<br/>
<br/>
You stick your head out the door to confirm the girls have gone, then pull out Kendra’s phone.  You tap out a quick text to the golem:  “Garners cming 2 confrt u about lez – mk sre u r alone”.<br/>
<br/>
Then you flip through the contacts list and dial Maddy.  “Hello,” she answers tersely after a couple of rings.<br/>
<br/>
“You busy,” you ask.  “Sorry if I interrupted something.”<br/>
<br/>
“Lunchtime strategy and planning session with Alyssa,” she replies sourly.<br/>
<br/>
“I have something for you, something big.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” replies Maddy, suddenly sounding a lot happier.  “What is it?”<br/>
<br/>
“The Garners just had a big argument with Chelsea,” you only half lie – it’s only a matter of time before something does happen.  “They’re talking about quitting the team.”<br/>
<br/>
“Very juicy,” says Maddy.  “Thank you Kendra.”<br/>
<br/>
“Wait,” you say, sensing Maddy is about to hang up.  “You should suggest to Alyssa that she talks to them, tries to push them over the edge.”<br/>
<br/>
“Because the Eastman – Westside match is coming up soon,” interrupts Maddy.  “Anything that disrupts your team is good for hours, I get it, but why are you telling me this?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’ll make Chelsea look bad if they quit,” you lie.  “And I want Chelsea to look bad.”<br/>
<br/>
“Very, very, nice,” repeats Maddy.  “I’ll pass this on onto Alyssa right away.  Thanks again Kendra.”<br/>
<br/>
“I owed you one,” you shrug.  “See you later Maddy.”<br/>
<br/>
“Bye,” she says before hanging up.  Now all you have to do is wait and see how your efforts pan out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You give yourself one last once over with a compact mirror before walking up the pathway to Ian Carpenter’s house.  It’s a good look – bold and energetic, sexy without being slutty, well too slutty at least.  You’ve chosen make-up that gives you and earthy and energetic look.  Your clothes are plain and casual.  They aren’t revealing, but they hug tight to your body and make your Kendra-curves obvious.  You toy with the idea of undoing the top button of your cut-off denim shorts and letting the black lace of your panties peek out.  <i>Better wait till I get inside</i>, you think.<br/>
<br/>
You walk up the path, and knock on the door of the house.  It’s not a particularly big or impressive home, but it is well looked after and in a nice area.  A minute later a plain looking middle aged woman opens the door.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi Mrs Carpenter,” you say, smiling and revealing Kendra’s dazzling white teeth.  “Is Ian about?”<br/>
<br/>
The woman looks at you, looking you up and down, her face politely neutral.  She turns and shouts.  “Ian, someone at the door for you.”<br/>
<br/>
You look past her.  At the top of the stairs you see Ian’s head look round a corner.  “Kendra,” he says with a little surprise.  You didn’t tell him you were coming.  “Come on up.”  The woman turns back to face you and with a little smile moves to the side.  You ease past her and climb up the stairs.<br/>
<br/>
You follow the wall round and find Ian in his bedroom.   He’s sitting on his bed with his back against the wall and watching TV on a small screen.  You close the door behind you, quietly turning the lock closed  whilst still facing him.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you.  “You didn’t phone me to say you were coming,” he complains, smiling.  “I’d have made more of an effort,” he adds gesturing at himself.  He’s dressed in a simple shirt and jeans.<br/>
<br/>
“I needed to see you,” you reply with a shrug.  “Can I sit with you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Sure,” he says.  Wordlessly, you sit on the bed next to him, laying your head on his shoulder.  He puts one arm round you, holding you gently.<br/>
<br/>
You sit like that for a few minutes, content to simply watch the instantly forgettable show on his TV.<br/>
<br/>
“Ian,” you eventually say.  “I want to ask you something.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” he says warily.<br/>
<br/>
“When we first met,” you say, making your voice tremble a little.  “We were just going to make Alyssa jealous, but over the last few days I’ve realised that was a mistake.”  You turn to look at him and, with a little effort, make a single tear stream down your cheek.  “You’re so compassionate and gentle, so kind that I can’t imagine giving you up any more.”  You swallow and pause, relying on Kendra’s instincts to let you know just how long to stop before continuing.  “Ian, I have feelings for you.  Please tell me you feel the same way.  Please.”<br/>
<br/>
He wipes away your tear with his free hand and looks directly into your eyes.  He seems unsure of what to say.  “You’re beautiful Kendra,” he says.  “And there’s a part of me that’s been hoping you would say that.”  You gasp with feigned shock and excitement.  “So, yeah, I guess I have feelings for you too.”<br/>
<br/>
You swing round and straddle the top of his lap.  Holding his head with one hand you lean forward and kiss him slowly and lingeringly.  It’s not something either you or Kendra’s persona find particularly enjoyable, but it’s something the latter knows is important in seducing Ian.<br/>
<br/>
“So we can be boyfriend and girlfriend now,” you ask haltingly.  “Not just pretending anymore.”<br/>
<br/>
“I want that,” he says.<br/>
<br/>
“I want that too,” you say, gently rubbing yourself against him.  “I want that a lot.”  You feel his trousers start to stretch underneath you.  “God, I need you so much right now.”<br/>
<br/>
“My Mom’s downstairs,” he protests.<br/>
<br/>
You lean forward and whisper in his ear.  “We can be quiet.”</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212211111112
author_id: imaj
title: Chelsea Cooper, Facebook Warrior
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>'I love you Kendra.'<br/>
<br/>
You roll the words about in your mind, the ghost of Kendra's personality taking delight in the words.<br/>
<br/>
'I love you Kendra.'<br/>
<br/>
It's what Ian said at the climax.  Another subpar climax, as far as Kendra would have been concerned, but the words are far more important than any pleasure you got from the encounter.<br/>
<br/>
Not that <i>you </i>got much pleasure <i>or </i>care about those words.<br/>
<br/>
The real Kendra, though, she would know that she'd have Ian wrapped around her finger.  The Eastman basketball team captain is now besotted with your assumed identity.  Another pawn to push around on the increasingly complicated chessboard that is your life.  You suppose you can appreciate that much.<br/>
<br/>
He's only one piece in play though, and now you're back at your, well Kendra's, home you can check up on the others.  You idly move the mouse of Kendra's computer as you browse through the various Facebook pages that are Chelsea's weapon of choice.  You easily find the messages your looking for, the ones that tell you how the ideas you planted in the Garners' and Maddy's heads earlier in the day have played out.  In fact, they are hard to miss.<br/>
<br/>
Your concentration is interrupted by Kendra's cell phone ringing.<br/>
<br/>
'Hey girl,' you say, answering after glancing at the caller ID.  It's the golem.  'How did it go with Maria and Chelsea.'<br/>
<br/>
'Awesome,' replies the golem, its voice dripping with sarcasm.  'Chelsea spent most of the time posting messages on her Facebook page and Maria''  The golem trails off, unable to describe the experience of talking with Maria at length.<br/>
<br/>
'She's an airhead,' you say dismissively, instinctively drawing from Kendra's experience with the girl.<br/>
<br/>
'I think she's pretending,' replies the golem.  'I <i>hope </i>she's pretending, no one can really be that dumb can they?'<br/>
<br/>
'You might be right,' you respond, changing your mind as you recall the brief time you spent wearing a mask of Maria.  'Chelsea really spent the whole time posting?'<br/>
<br/>
'Yeah,' replies the golem.  'She said something came up.'<br/>
<br/>
'I'm looking at it right now,' you reply, turning your attention back to the computer.  'It looks like a mess,' you giggle.  'I love it when a plan comes together.'<br/>
<br/>
'You set it up,' asks the golem with a sharp intake of breath.  'I thought you wanted me to get closer to Chelsea?  She's suspicious of me now.  Apparently <i>someone </i>let slip about the whole into girls thing,' continues the golem, dialling up the sarcasm again.<br/>
<br/>
'But she's still talking to you,' you ask.  'That's a good sign.  All you need to do is get her to lower her inhibitions around you.  Wait till the party after the big basketball game ' she'll be drunk and celebrating then.'<br/>
<br/>
'You think so,' asks the golem little smugly.  'I don't think she'll be celebrating.  We'll beat you easily this year.'<br/>
<br/>
'Remember girl,' you interrupt.  'You're at Westside now, on <i>our </i>side.  Besides, we have a couple of secret weapons this year.'  The golem snorts.  'So just stay close to Chelsea.  It'll all work out.'<br/>
<br/>
'If you say so,' replies the golem, unconvinced.<br/>
<br/>
'I do,' you reply, your voice laden with Kendra smugness.  'And that means you do too.  Remember: Master, slave.'  You let that statement hang for a few moments before finishing.  'So  I guess I'll speak to you tomorrow,' you say sweetly before hanging up.  Then you put Kendra's cell phone to once side and laugh quietly to yourself as you read the results of your efforts.<br/>
<br/>
It looks like Maddy did everything you hoped she would.  Alyssa's fingerprints are all over the Garners' exit from the cheerleading team.  It's not obvious, but Kendra's suspicious mind spots it easily enough:  Alyssa's made a post about how Eastman is a much nicer school because everyone is so nice to each other.  That's nothing unusual in itself, but there are a lot of little comments that have a hidden meaning if you know why the Garners left.  'Eastman students are more tolerant', that sort of thing.<br/>
<br/>
You check Eva and then Jessica's pages next.  There's nothing beyond a terse, one line comment in Jessica's page about leaving the team.  There's nothing on Eva's.  If you are any judge of Eva's character, and Kendra understands Eva all too well, she is bawling her eyes out in her bedroom right about now.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's page is full of her trademark insincerity, all about 'how sad' she was to see the twins go and how they 'will be missed'.  You can't help but laugh at that last one, it's stretching the truth a little too far even by Chelsea's elastic standards.  She has, predictably, drafted in Kelsey and Megan to replace the twins.  Chelsea will think that Kelsey and Megan's last minute inclusion will be enough to guarantee their loyalty but you know better.<br/>
<br/>
You leave a little congratulations message on both Megan and Kelsey's pages.  A little reminder who they <i>really </i>owe their places on the team to.  Then you retire to bed for the night, well satisfied with your mischief.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Chelsea calls for an emergency practice the following morning.  That isn't a surprise. Tomorrow, Saturday, is the big game with Eastman and there are three new members to bring up to speed with the rest of the team.  You'd expect Chelsea to be gloating after a victory like ridding herself of the Garners.  Instead she runs the practice with a terrifyingly precise determination.  It's a frightening glimpse at what Chelsea would be like if she wasn't quite so much of a bitch.<br/>
<br/>
'Try it again Megan,' she says coolly after watching the new girl flub a complex manoeuvre and crash into Michelle.  'Keep trying until you get it.'  Megan hauls herself to her feet uncertainly, her face flushed and angry looking.  She shoots you an angry glare, like it is somehow your fault, before turning away.  She ignores Michelle, who has a hand raised and it looking for help getting up.<br/>
<br/>
'What's with her,' asks the stricken girl as you walk over and help her to her feet.<br/>
<br/>
'She got what she wanted,' you whisper slyly in Michelle's ear.  She gives you an odd look before walking off herself.<br/>
<br/>
'Ok,' shouts Chelsea, getting the attention of the team and motioning them to come over.  'We'll take a five minute break,' she continues as your attention drifts away from her and over to the figure sitting up at the back of the seats in the gym hall.  Patterson waves at you, barely perceptibly, beckoning you over.  'It's important we get this right,' drones Chelsea as you drift away.  So much for a break.  'This isn't any game coming up,' she continues, but the sound fades as you walk up the steps towards Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
'Prescott,' says Patterson with a curt nod as you slip into the seat beside him.  You don't reply and after a moment he continues.  'Enjoying yourself in there,' he says, grinning unpleasantly.  'Looks like you're having a good time.'  He gestures towards Kelsey and Megan.  'Now was that your idea or Kendra's.'<br/>
<br/>
'A bit of both,' you smirk, digging deep for Kendra's personality.  It makes dealing with him easier.  'I figured the team will need a new captain after we're done here and I wanted the right girl to get the job.'<br/>
<br/>
'You planning on staying on as her,' replies Patterson, leaning back in his seat.  'She's a snake, worse than fucking Chelsea.'<br/>
<br/>
'Being a snake is fun,' you shrug.  'I don't think she'd ever attempt this herself, too scared of Chelsea, but I can do it.  If it all falls apart I can be in another mask within hours and the real Kendra gets to pick up the pieces.'  After a moment of thought you continue.  'Even if I decide to be someone else once you make me a proper senior member, we can always leave a Kendra-slave to run things for us.'<br/>
<br/>
Patterson barks a short laugh.  'Fuck me Prescott, I'm actually starting to like you.'  He leans forward again.  'What about Carpenter,' he asks conspiratorially.  'You got an ugly breakup planned just before the game?  Leave him a crying wreck for us to roll over on the court?'<br/>
<br/>
'I was thinking about him,' you shudder nervously.  'It might be better to keep him as Kendra's boyfriend.'  <i>Where did that come from?</i><br/>
<br/>
Patterson stares at you with hooded eyes.<br/>
<br/>
'He's totally twisted round my little finger, Kendra's finger I mean,' you say quickly.  'I think I can distract him much more at the game if I spend it flashing my boobs at him.  If I break up with him, he might figure the whole thing was a set up anyway.  Do that whole mentally strong of his,' you add.<br/>
<br/>
'He has a 'mentally strong thing'' scoffs Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
'Totally,' you say, not noticing just how much Kendra's persona is influencing you, setting up things according to its own agenda.  'Trust me, it'll be better this way.'<br/>
<br/>
Patterson looks as if he is about to say something but he doesn't get the chance.  'Kendra,' shouts Chelsea from down on the gym floor.  'Get back down here now.  We've still got to get this right.'<br/>
<br/>
Patterson grabs you by the arm as you get up.  'I'll leave this up to you,' he hisses.  'You better get it fucking right.'</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122111111122
author_id: imaj
title: The Game - Part 1
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Saturday afternoon.<br/>
<br/>
The big game is finally here and you stand in the locker room getting changed with the other cheerleaders.  You let out a little squeal of anticipation – not because of the all the girl flesh on display around you, but because today marks the culmination of your plans.<br/>
<br/>
“Excited,” asks Michelle dourly.  The strains of the training Chelsea has put the team through in the last two days are written all over her face and her body language too.  She looks defeated, even more so than usual.<br/>
<br/>
“Well yeah,” you reply, pretending not to notice the look on Michelle’s face.  In fact you are far more interested in Chelsea.  The strain shows on her face more than anyone else’s, except perhaps Kelsey and Megan.<br/>
<br/>
You try to eavesdrop on what Chelsea is saying.  It’s hard, as Michelle is droning on about something and you have to tune out her voice in order to listen in.  You catch the words ‘not going to work’ and spot the Zoe golem give her a consoling hug.  You smirk as it lingers just a little too long. Then you turn away as Chelsea looks up.<br/>
<br/>
“Listen up team,” says Chelsea loudly.  Everyone turns to look at her.  She has a smile pasted on her face now and you’d have to know her well to realise just how forced it is.  “This is it, we’re going to go out there and knock them dead.”  There are a few half-hearted shouts of support.<br/>
<br/>
You step forward and shout enthusiastically.  “Yeah!”  Then you hi-five Chelsea.  The rest of the team joins in, shouting louder and louder until finally there is at least some sense of energy about the.  “Let’s go,” you shout.  Chelsea stares at you frostily but you don’t care.  She’ll be cast out soon enough and you want to establish Kendra’s claim on the captaincy as soon as possible.<br/>
<br/>
The gym erupts as you and the team run out.  The seats are packed, a sea of red and gold – the Westside colours.  There’s only a small pocket of cool Eastman blue and white in one corner.  The Westside crowd goes wild as you launch into your first routine.<br/>
<br/>
You’re cool and composed throughout, the smile never wavering on your face, but then it’s a simple one – nothing to complex in the routine.  You glance from once side to the other, making sure you keep in place with the rest of the team as you all weave about each other.  Yumi is moving with typical polish – it’s why Chelsea despises her so much.  Michelle’s performance is workmanlike, low on flair but competent enough.  You almost let the shock show on your face as Megan nearly stumbles but manages to recover in time.  After that you make sure stay far enough away from her and Kelsey that you will not be brought down as well if they tumble.  You aren’t the only one.<br/>
<br/>
Then it’s over and you wipe away the light sheen of sweat from your forehead.  The Westside crowd breaks into baying cheers again.  You spot Kelsey breaking into a wide grin, but you know better.  The Eastman cheerleaders are watching you with smug smiles of their own.  The crowd doesn’t know enough about cheerleading to know how basic your routine was, or how poorly it was performed – they’re just the other students of the school and their families.  Alyssa, however, does.  She gives Chelsea a shark like smile before turning to her own squad to lead them in their routine.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey’s grin evaporates and you can almost hear Chelsea’s complex start to splotch.  Alyssa has chosen something far more complex and involved than what the Westside team attempted.  Given her involvement in the removal of the Garners from the team, it’s possible she’s done it on purpose too.  The Eastman cheerleaders move in a interlacing weave of pirouettes and cartwheels that must have taken a long time to get right.  Everyone, absolutely everyone, can see now just how mediocre the Westside team’s performance was.  The crowd falls silent, then the Eastman supporters find their voice.  Their shouting rises in volume, reaching a crescendo as the Eastman cheerleaders finish their show.<br/>
<br/>
Alyssa gives Chelsea another smug smile.  She doesn’t have much time to savour it though as the teams come out into the gym.  You’ve one last card to play before the game starts, so you walk calmly away from the cheerleaders towards the Eastman basketball team.  A few of them look round and notice your approach.  One you don’t recognise nudges Ian in the ribs and he turns round.  You smile Kendra’s brightest most dazzling smile as you walk towards Ian.  All he can do is stare like a deer caught in the headlights.<br/>
<br/>
As you close to Ian, you hang your arms around his neck.  Standing on tip toes you, you pull his head down and kiss him.  A long slow kiss that he returns with increasing urgency.  “Good luck Ian,” you whisper in his ear.  You let one hand slip from around his neck and down his body.  The mask of Kendra’s persona insists that you quiver in anticipation as you feel the hard muscle of Ian’s body through his basketball uniform.  You stop just above his groin.  “I’ve got something for you after,” you add huskily and press yourself in tight against him.  You can feel his shorts start to tent.<br/>
<br/>
You kiss Ian one more time, a quick peck on the lips and turn to walk back to the cheerleaders.  Both Alyssa and Chelsea stare at you, Alyssa in slack jawed shock, Chelsea inscrutably.  You slyly smile back at Alyssa, sharing in Kendra’s pleasure at wiping the smile from her face.<br/>
<br/>
You slip back into place beside Chelsea.  “You make such a cute couple,” she whispers, pitching it so that her voice carries far enough for everyone around to hear her.  You spot Alyssa grimacing out of the corner of your eye.<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks Chels,” you blush, matching her tone.  You glance sideways at Alyssa. If anything her face is even sourer. In a genuine whisper, so quiet that no one but Chelsea can hear it, you continue.  “I wasn’t going to let that bitch run all over us,” you add venomously.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea takes a step back to look at you.  She seems uncertain – not sure how sincere you are.  After a few seconds thought she hugs you awkwardly.  Showing gratitude isn’t one of Chelsea’s strengths.  Then you both settle down to watch the game.<br/>
<br/>
Ian glances one last time at where you are sitting.  You thrust your chest out before smiling and waving.  You just hope you can distract him enough during the game to keep Patterson happy.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121221111111221
author_id: imaj
title: The Game - Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“My boyfriend is beating your boyfriend,” says Chelsea rather smugly midway through the third quarter.<br/>
<br/>
You’ve never really understood basketball and Kendra only pretends to care in order to keep Chelsea happy, but you think she’s right.  Eastman have slipped badly behind Westside, with no real chance of catching up in the time remaining.  You guess that Patterson and Black have spent time working with the memories contained in the mask you made of Ian Carpenter:  It seems like the Westside team is able to anticipate every strategy and trick Eastman make use of.<br/>
<br/>
And then there’s Ian himself.  You catch his gaze again, smiling at him brightly and giving him a coy wave.  The momentary distraction is enough to let one of the Westside players, Jonas Martin, dribble past him unopposed before passing the ball to Seth Javits.  Javits sends the ball through the hoop with unerring accuracy, adding another three points to the Westside tally.<br/>
<br/>
“My boyfriend has other things on his mind,” you murmur in reply.<br/>
<br/>
“It seems he does,” agrees Chelsea.  She leans in very close so no one else can hear what she says next.  “A little too much on his mind maybe?”<br/>
<br/>
“We love each other very much,” is all you say in reply, the mock innocence in your voice apparent.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea considers this for a few seconds.  “Didn’t I say you make a great couple,” she says insincerely.  “Ian’s lucky to have you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks Chels,” you gush, matching her insincerity with Kendra’s own.<br/>
<br/>
In fact your attention is focussed on Alyssa again.  Out of the corner of your eye you can see she is involved in an animated discussion with Maddy.  You try to eavesdrop but they are too far and the crowd watching the game is too loud.  After a few minutes they stop and Maddy makes her way out the gym.  You stare blankly ahead, pretending to focus on the game as Maddy walks by you.  You feign enthusiasm, making sure to smile or wave or thrust your chest out every time Ian glances in your direction.<br/>
<br/>
“I need to tinkle,” you whisper to Chelsea once you are sure Maddy has left the gym, excusing yourself as you stand up.  You slip past the other Cheerleaders and make your way into the hall.<br/>
<br/>
You look up and down the hall, there’s no one in sight.  Your footsteps echo as you make your way down it, the sound of the game  being muted by the two sets of double doors you entered by.  You check each locker room and cupboard in turn, sticking your head inside the door and taking a quick look inside.  Just as you are about to give up you feel a firm hand your shoulder.  You manage to suppress a yelp, but you still practically jump out of your skin before turning round.<br/>
<br/>
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” says Maddy as she folds her arms, squashing her ample breasts upwards and against the fabric of her tee.  The sight almost causes you to lose hold of your grip on Kendra’s personality for a second before it asserts itself again.<br/>
<br/>
“Not here,” you hiss, “What if someone sees us.”<br/>
<br/>
“I, uh... what,” stutters Maddy, suddenly wrongfooted.<br/>
<br/>
“What if someone sees us,” you repeat.  “And then goes right back to Alyssa and tells her what they saw.”  You point towards one of the empty locker rooms.  “In there.” <br/>
<br/>
“Okay,” says Maddy unsurely.  She rallies a little before continuing.  “But you better have a good explanation in there.<br/>
<br/>
You hold the door open for Maddy then follow her through.  It’s one of the visiting team locker rooms, you realise as you close the door behind yourself.  <br/>
<br/>
“So,” asks Maddy.  She has her hands on her hips now.  “I thought you didn’t want Alyssa to find out about you and Ian.  What was that little stunt before the game started all about?  Alyssa’s on the warpath now”<br/>
<br/>
You compose yourself and fake a wistful expression.  “Oh, I couldn’t help it,” you lie with Kendra’s practiced ease.  “We’re in love.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s all very well,” says Maddy, her face tightening.  “But what about me?  When Alyssa finds out that I knew, and she will find out because I told Tina and Summer.  Like you told me to,” she adds bitterly.<br/>
<br/>
“Well then you’ll just have to do something about her before she finds out,” you say, breaking out into a lazy, catlike smile.  “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it,” you add with faux-innocence.  “A chance to correct some of the mistakes Alyssa’s being making.  Like trusting Lisa.”<br/>
<br/>
Maddy’s face goes pale.  “You planned this, didn’t you,” her voice a strange mix of accusatory and fearful.<br/>
<br/>
“I wouldn’t do anything like that to one of my friends,” you protest.  Of course, Kendra would have to have some genuine friends first before that hypothesis could be tested.  “Sorry,” you say in a more measured tone.  “You get used to thinking like that with Chelsea around.  It’s just the way things are around here.”  Maddy looks miserable.  “And it’s the situation you’re in too now.  I can help you, but we’d have to do things my way.”<br/>
<br/>
Maddy sniffles a little.  For a moment you think she might be about to cry.  “Okay Kendra,” she says shakily.  “What do we do?”<br/>
<br/>
“We need to make sure Tina and Summer don’t say anything, at least for a little while,” you begin.  “Tell them…  Tell them that Alyssa already knew, and she’s acting that way for everyone else’s benefit.  You’ll need to say the same to that Cheerleader, the redhead,” you add, recalling how she spotted you and Ian the previous weekend.<br/>
<br/>
“Ann,” interrupts Maddy.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, Ann,” you continue.<br/>
<br/>
“But I don’t see what good that is going to do,” interrupts Maddy again.  “Alyssa will find out the truth sooner or later.  All I’m doing is making things worse for myself when she finds out.”<br/>
<br/>
You marshal Kendra’s impatience at the continuing interruptions.  You can’t afford to snap at Maddy now, not when you are so close to persuading her.  “By the time she finds out, it’ll be too late,” you say patiently.  “You were going to have a party after the game,” you guess.  It seems a fair assumption – Chelsea has one planned for this evening to celebrate.<br/>
<br/>
“More like a wake now,” replies Maddy morosely.  “But yeah, at Alyssa’s house.”<br/>
<br/>
You take a moment to savour the possibility of humiliating Alyssa in her own home.  The mask of Kendra’s personality that you wear likes that idea a lot.  “What do you think Alyssa will want to do, now that she knows about me and Ian, break us up” you ask slyly.  Maddy nods.  “She knows that Ian was crushing on her, didn’t she?”  Maddy nods again.  “If Alyssa somehow got the idea that the best way to break us up was make a play for Ian herself, and he knocked her back” you say, leaning heavily on the faux-innocence again.  You let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, giving Maddy a chance to think over what you mean.<br/>
<br/>
“If I suggest it to Alyssa myself,” you mean, replies Maddy unhappily after a few moments of thought.  “What makes you so sure Ian will refuse her?”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, I’ll make sure of that,” you grin.  “And if he even thinks about it I’ll be there to make sure it doesn’t happen.  Imagine how humiliating that would be,” you say clapping your hands together in excitement.  “In her own home too.  Oh this is too much.  Alyssa wouldn’t be able to show her face in public for days.”<br/>
<br/>
“And when she does,” asks Maddy sceptically.  “What then?”<br/>
<br/>
“By then everyone will have forgotten about me and Ian,” you reply smiling dazzlingly.  “And <i>you</i> could be in control of that Rumourati of yours.”<br/>
<br/>
“They wouldn’t accept it,” replies Maddy.  “Not all of them.”<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll make them,” you interrupt.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not sure,” whines Maddy.<br/>
<br/>
You grab hold of her by the shoulders.  “Do you want to wait till Alyssa finds out the truth herself,” you ask, looking Maddy directly in the eyes.  “What do you think will happen then?”  Maddy visibly wilts.<br/>
<br/>
“Ok,” she says in a quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t worry,” you say, letting go of her.  “It’ll all work out.”  You smile again and give Maddy a friendly hug.  “Now you’d better go.  You’ve got people to talk to.  I‘ll wait here for a couple of minutes, we wouldn’t want anyone seeing us walking back into the gym together.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re right,” she replies, sounding a little happier.  Maddy hugs you back.  “Thanks Kendra,” she says before breaking off and leaving you alone in the locker room.<br/>
<br/>
Maddy has been a useful pawn for the last week.  It would make sense to help her out at the Eastman party tonight – you would ensure both her continued loyalty and dependence on you.<br/>
<br/>
On the other hand, you are having second thoughts about testing Ian’s feelings for you, his feelings for Kendra rather.  It would be much safer to keep him away from the Eastman party and abandon Maddy to her fate.  After all, whatever happens, you’ve caused plenty of chaos in the Eastman social scene.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212211111112212
author_id: imaj
title: Alyssa Randal: My Part In Her Downfall, Part 1
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You drop back into your seat beside Chelsea with the game entering its dying minutes.  Eastman have rallied in your absence, but it is too little, too late.  The Westside team have too much of an advantage to be caught now.  You watch as Patterson brusquely fouls one of the Eastman players, some blond guy you don’t know, for no other reason than because he can.  He nods apologetically as the umpire tells him off for it but leers in your direction when he gets the chance.  You smile tersely in return.<br/>
<br/>
Ian looks thoroughly wretched by now.  You offer him Kendra’s most sincere look of sympathy when he looks your way again.  It’s entirely faked of course, but Ian is going to require careful handling when the game ends.  You wait patiently as the last few seconds tick down and the buzzer signifies the end of the game.<br/>
<br/>
The gym hall erupts again, the red and gold spectators shrieking and cheering in a frenzy of noise.  Chelsea bounds up from her seat and runs to Black who lifts her in the air and spins her around.  The rest of the Westside team is just as jubilant:  They group in twos and threes waving their arms in the air.<br/>
<br/>
By contrast the Eastman players stand alone, unable to comprehend what happened to them.  Unable even to look at each other.  You pick your way across the court, evading the celebrating Westside team, and make your way to Ian.  He stands dumbfounded and alone in the centre of the court.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t get it,” he says quietly as you wrap your arms around him.  You simply lean against him and hug him tight.  “It was like they knew everything we were going to do.”<br/>
<br/>
You look up at him.  “Let’s get out of here,” you say.  “Go someplace quiet.”<br/>
<br/>
He stands impassively.<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach loops as you dig into Kendra’s persona.  “I have your consolation prize,” you add slyly, giving him a squeeze.  <br/>
<br/>
Ian finally seems to notice you.  You take his hand and lead him away from the court.  No one stops you as you leave the gym.  The halls are empty as you lead him away.  The noise of the victory celebrations fades into silence as you get further and further away.<br/>
<br/>
“Where are we going,” asks Ian after a little while.<br/>
<br/>
“I already told you silly,” you reply, crinkling your nose in a way that Kendra thinks make her look adorable.   “Someplace quiet.  Here it is here,” you add indicating a cupboard.<br/>
<br/>
“What are we going to…”  Ian’s question is interrupted by you slipping your hand into his shorts.  The small part of you that remains yourself feels thoroughly nauseous, but you push it to one side and let the Kendra personality dominate.  “Oh,” he adds quietly.  You gently pull him inside the cupboard, closing the door behind you with your foot.<br/>
<br/>
Once inside, you pull Ian’s shorts down, kneeling on the floor in front of him.  Your mind is practically screaming now, but the Kendra part of you simply brushes it aside.  Ian’s feelings for Kendra, for you, are going to be put to the test tonight.  The Kendra persona inside you insists he has to be incentivised.<br/>
<br/>
Your expert fingers run along Ian’s hardening  cock, teasing it into life.  As you bring your lips to the erect member, you find yourself starting to wonder.  Are you Will Prescott pretending to be Kendra Saunders, or Kendra Saunders pretending that you are still Will Prescott?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
“We’re here,” says Ian snapping you out of your reverie.  “I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” he mumbles before noticing your slightly dazed expression.  “Are you ok?”<br/>
<br/>
The encounter after the game left you shaken. The first thing you did when you got home, to Kendra’s home, was lock her bedroom door and strip yourself out of the mask.  An hour of being yourself, freed from the other personality squatting in your mind, was relaxing.  Now you’re back in the mask, ready for the after game party.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m fine,” you say, slipping back into Kendra’s persona.  It feels warm and comfortable to have her feelings guiding you again.  “I was just thinking about something.”  <br/>
<br/>
You flip down the passenger side shade of Ian’s car and examine yourself in its mirror.  You’ve been guided to a sweet and demure look tonight, to better embarrass Alyssa when she makes her move.  The electric blue dress you are wearing is strapless, but it keeps your breasts well covered, even flattening them a little.  It hangs loose below the waist and reaches below the knee.  You’ve fixed your hair with matching blue clips and chosen a very subtle look with your makeup.  The Kendra part of you is well pleased with your efforts.<br/>
<br/>
“This is Alyssa’s house,” you ask.  It’s a roomy house in one of the nicer parts of Saratoga Falls, it barely stands out from the line of almost identical houses in the street.  “Nice.  Let’s go.”<br/>
<br/>
You clamber out of Ian’s car and meet him at the sidewalk.  You share a chaste kiss before you slip your arms around each others waists.<br/>
<br/>
“Some people might be a little unhappy to see you,” admits Ian as he guides you down the path.  You can hear the faint sound of music inside but it seems sombre and downbeat.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t care,” you reply, holding him a little tighter.  It’s not actually a lie, the Kendra part of you is looking forward to seeing how people react.  “I’m here because of <i>you</i>, nobody else<br/>
<br/>
“Good,” smiles Ian.  He opens the door and ushers you inside.  A few of the guests are loitering by the doorway.  The blond guy that Patterson fouled at the end of the game is there, whispering something into something into the ear of his equally blonde companion.  One of their cheerleaders if you remember correctly.<br/>
<br/>
“’Sup Ian,” he says, peeling away from his companion as he notices the pair of you.  “And this is your Westside girl, you kept her quiet didn’t you.”  He playfully punches at Ian just below the shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
“This is Joe,” says Ian for your benefit.  “And Becky from our cheerleading team.”  Becky smiles at you coldly.<br/>
<br/>
“Pleased to meetcha,” says Joe, thrusting out a hand.  You take it but there’s something oddly electric about his grasp and you quickly pull free of him on instinct.  His brow furrows for the briefest of moments before he resumes his sunny countenance as if nothing had happened.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi Becky,” you say, addressing the girl.  “Your team was amazing today.  Made us look like amateurs.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks,” she replies, defrosting a little.  “You weren’t bad yourself.  It’s just a shame that the rest of your team wasn’t so good.”<br/>
<br/>
“I know,” you smile ruefully.  “New girls,” you add with a shrug.<br/>
<br/>
“Well at least we beat you at one thing today,” replies Becky laughing.  You join in.  It grates on Kendra’s personality to have to play nice like this, but the entire set up of the evening depends on you appearing to be the reasonable one compared to Alyssa.<br/>
<br/>
“Nice to meet you both,” you say, slipping your arm back round Ian.  “Come on honey.”  You gently ease Ian away from the door, pulling him further into the house.<br/>
<br/>
The lounge is bustling as you enter, or rather, until you enter.  A wave of silence spreads outwards from you and Ian as people stop their conversations as they spot you.  Some stare directly at you, a few with their mouths agape.  The more tactful suddenly find something interesting in the floor or walls or ceiling.  The silence ripples to the far side of the room where it finds Alyssa and a small group of her cronies:  The little Asian girl Summer, Lisa and Maddy.<br/>
<br/>
Alyssa stares at you, her face a mask of careful neutrality.  Summer whispers something in her ear and with a harrumph, Alyssa folds her arms and walks briskly out the room.  Summer tails along after her immediately but Lisa lingers long enough to wink at you surreptitiously.  Maddy looks at you with an agonized expression and you guess that she is unsure whether to follow Alyssa out or to come over and talk to you.  After a few seconds her sense of loyalty wins out and she turns and walks in the same direction as the rest of her friends.<br/>
<br/>
With Alyssa gone, the conversations break out again.  They are noticeably louder, as the guests try to forget about the scene they just witnessed.<br/>
<br/>
“That went well,” mutters Ian.<br/>
<br/>
“She’ll get over it,” you say, pulling him close for another quick kiss.  “Look…” you begin.<br/>
<br/>
Your plan is a simple one:  Leave Ian alone long enough for Alyssa, encouraged by Maddy, to try and make a move on him.  Then return just in time to catch her in the act, preferably in front of everyone else.  Now that Alyssa knows you are here you can put it into action.  The question is, do you leave Ian alone know or spend a little more time with him just to make sure he makes the right decision.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122111111122121
author_id: imaj
title: Alyssa Randal, My Part In Her Downfall - Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“I have to powder my nose,” you say.<br/>
<br/>
“Already,” asks Ian, a little downbeat.<br/>
<br/>
“I want to be perfect for you,” you lie and he brightens up.  You let your hands linger together for moment before leaving Ian.  Most of the guests do their best to ignore you as you pick your way through the room.  A few glare at you unpleasantly as you pass and one or two brave souls even smile.<br/>
<br/>
You climb up the stairs steadily, taking care not to accidently hit the guests using them as impromptu seats.  A quick glance behind you confirms that Lisa Rickover is tailing you discretely.  You ignore her and concentrate on finding a bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
A flush from behind one of the doors alerts you to its location.  You wait patiently and yet another blonde exits after a minute or so – another cheerleader. She arches an eyebrow as you pass her but you aren’t in the mood for games right now.<br/>
<br/>
Once inside you lock the door behind you and look at your watch.  Five minutes, you decide, would be a good amount of time.  You lower the toilet lid and sit on it, pulling out Kendra’s cell phone to connect to the Internet.  A quick trawl through her favourite social networks doesn’t reveal anything you don’t know already:  Westside is celebrating, Chelsea is holding a big party and so on.  It’s probably a lot more lively than this one.<br/>
<br/>
You while away the time before putting the phone away.  You flush the toilet for the sake of giving the impression this was a genuine visit.  You don’t need to check yourself in the mirror again, you know you are perfect.<br/>
<br/>
Lisa is waiting for you outside.  “You need in,” you ask with faux-innocence.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m supposed to distract you,” she smirks.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t think telling me means you are doing a very good job of it,” you reply, feigning confusion.<br/>
<br/>
“You might be right,” she says airily, looking around.  There is no one else nearby.  “But there was something else I wanted to do first.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” you interrupt with a poker face.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” she replies, her face as inscrutable as your own.  “You see Alyssa was a little unhappy when she saw you and Ian at the game.  And a little more unhappy when she saw you here.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t understand,” you say, laying on the innocence thickly.  “Alyssa isn’t interested in Ian, is she?”<br/>
<br/>
Lisa smiles wryly for the briefest of seconds.  “He’s interested in her though, isn’t he?  That’s what Maddy kept telling Alyssa tonight.  Kept saying that Alyssa should use that to break the two of you up.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s horrible,” you say, carefully composing the fake outrage on your face.  “Why would she do that?”<br/>
<br/>
“A more interesting question is why would Maddy suddenly start having ideas like that,” continues Lisa.  “She’s got a sharp tongue, but that kind of thinking is, well, shall I say a bit ‘Westside’ for her.”  Lisa’s eyes gleam.  “And someone told her about the Garners being unhappy with Chelsea.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know what you mean,” you say blankly.  “I really should get back to Ian.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” agrees Lisa.  “I think you should, because I think <i>someone </i>has set up Alyssa to make a fool of herself.”  She looks round again, checking that no one is listening.  Even though you are both alone, she leans in close to whisper what she says next.  “She’s taken Ian into the dining room to get him alone.  There’s a partition door between it and the lounge, which I have feeling might accidently open itself sometime soon.”<br/>
<br/>
“Why are you telling me this,” you ask, your eyes narrowing.<br/>
<br/>
“Because you aren’t the only one that wants to see Alyssa humiliated,” she smirks, shooing you away.  “And because I can.”<br/>
<br/>
You leave Lisa behind and make your way back down the stairs.  She’ll doubtless try to extract payment for this later, but you have more pressing worries.  Instead of heading back into the lounge at the bottom of the stairs, you turn and make your way down the hall.<br/>
<br/>
Maddy is standing at a door which you assume leads to the dinning room.  “Lisa was supposed to distract you,” she says miserably.<br/>
<br/>
“She didn’t do a very good job,” you reply quietly, smiling broadly.  You try to move through the door and Maddy hesitantly blocks you.  “This is what you want, isn’t it?”  She bites at her lip nervously.  “Why do you think Lisa did such a bad job of distracting me,” you ask.  <br/>
<br/>
Maddy chews her lip anxiously and then her eyes go wide as realisation dawns.  “She knows?”<br/>
<br/>
“And she wants to make a move,” you reply.  “Which is why you need to make a move first.”  Maddy looks at you uncertainly.  Then she takes a step to the side.  You nod and quietly enter.<br/>
<br/>
The room is empty except for Alyssa and Ian, who stand at the opposite side from you.  Luckily they are facing the opposite direction, looking out the Patio doors into the garden.  Alyssa has wrapped her arms around Ian’s waist, but you can see his stance is a little awkward – something in your favour at least.<br/>
<br/>
You glance to the side, to the partition door to the lounge.  You realise that someone has cut the music next door.  You can’t even hear a trace of it.  Your suspicions as to why are confirmed when you notice the partition door slowly sliding open.  Lisa moves it quietly, giving you a another quick wink when she looks directly at you.  Beyond her, the guests in the lounge look on at you with expressions of mild concern and interest.<br/>
<br/>
That would be your cue then.  You take a step forward and plant your hands firmly down on the dining room table.  “Alyssa,” you exclaim.  “I don’t believe this.”<br/>
<br/>
The two turn round startled.  Ian has the decency to look guilty when he speaks.  “This isn’t what it looks like,” he stammers.  Alyssa just looks stunned.<br/>
<br/>
“Isn’t it,” you ask, making the disappointment in your voice obvious.  You force a couple of tears out of your eyes as you address Alyssa.  “Why are you doing this Alyssa, we just want to be happy.”<br/>
<br/>
Alyssa’s eyes almost pop out their sockets.  She glances sideways just long enough to notice your audience.  “You snake,” she hisses so quietly that you can barely hear it.<br/>
<br/>
“You pushed away Ian for so long,” you interrupt.  You know Alyssa is a member of the Eastman debating team and you don’t want to give her the chance to start speaking.  “And now, now that he’s met someone else you expect to crook your finger and have him come running back.”  Of course, that’s more of a Kendra thing to do, but you are hardly going to say that.  Alyssa knows it too and you can see her hackles rise.<br/>
<br/>
“We were just talking,” she replies, holding onto her temper by a thread.<br/>
<br/>
“With your arm around him,” you say accusingly.  You turn your attention back to Ian, ramping up the tears as you do so.  “I thought you loved me,” you plead.<br/>
<br/>
Ian looks agonised for a second.  He looks at you, and then Alyssa, and then back at you.  “I do,” he says quietly, moving round the table towards you.<br/>
<br/>
You move to meet him, burying your head in his chest as he holds you tight.  “I love you too,” you lie.<br/>
<br/>
“I know,” he replies.  “I think you should give us some space Alyssa,” he adds.  You smirk, safe in the knowledge that your face is hidden from all the onlookers save Alyssa by Ian’s broad chest.  She gives you a look of pure hatred.<br/>
<br/>
You watch out of the corner of your eyes as Alyssa storms out the room.  Then you sink deeper into Kendra’s personality and kiss Ian long and slow.  There are a couple of catcalls from the onlookers and you break apart.<br/>
<br/>
“Show’s over guys,” says Ian with a blush.  Someone starts the music back up and the party gets underway again.  “I am so sorry,” continues Ian quietly.  “She just pulled me away and started hanging all over me.”<br/>
<br/>
“I forgive you,” you reply, nuzzling at him.  “I feel kinda sorry for her.  It’s messed up that she doesn’t want you, but doesn’t want you with anyone else either,” you add mischievously.<br/>
<br/>
“I never thought about it like that,” says Ian, a thoughtful expression on his face.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey,” interrupts Maddy, suddenly hovering beside you both.  She smiles a brittle smile.  “I am so sorry about that, I don’t know what Alyssa was thinking,” she glances around, looking towards where Lisa stands with a sour expression.  “I mean it obvious how you two feel about each other,” she continues, raising her voice so that people nearby can hear her.  “I’m happy for both of you,” she adds, grabbing hold of one of your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  “We’re all happy for both of you.”<br/>
<br/>
Lisa looks like she is about to throw up.  With any luck Lisa and Maddy will be at each others throats by Monday.  You want nothing more than to sneer at them all, to laugh at how easy it was to play them.  Instead you look adoringly into Ian’s eyes and a little Kendra-thought forms in your mind:  <i>There is still so much fun to be had here</i>.<br/>
<br/>
You’ve got what you came for.  Do you hang around at the party or make your excuses and leave.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121221111111221212
author_id: imaj
title: The Play by Play Highlights
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“Then what happened,” ask Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
You smile to yourself as you laze in the Fuck Room.  Your golem replacement will be at church right now, but for Patterson ‘Sunday Service’ means kicking back in the loft and having a few beers.  The loft is warm and bright in the midday sun with dust motes dancing in the shafts of brightness that shine in through the skylights.<br/>
<br/>
“I was looking for a chance to steer Ian out the door,” you explain, lying back with your hands behind your head.  Patterson offers you a beer and you shake your head.  “Didn’t get the chance to.  Ten minutes later Alyssa showed up again, turned off the music and ordered everyone out.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson bursts out laughing.  “Fuckin’ hilarious,” he sneers.  “Would’ve loved to have seen that.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s probably on Youtube,” you snigger in return.  “I saw a few camera phones out.  Same for the scene in the dining room.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson laughs uproariously.  “Fuckin’ A.  What next?”<br/>
<br/>
You shift uncomfortably.  “You probably don’t want to know,” you say in a quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson looks at you and start laughing again.  “You banged him again, didn’t you” he asks, although it’s clear he already knows the answer.<br/>
<br/>
“It keeps him under control,” you blush hotly.<br/>
<br/>
“Figures,” laughs Patterson.  “A pussy like him would be so easily pussy whipped.”<br/>
<br/>
“He’s infatuated with me.  I think he’d do whatever I asked him to,” you explain.  “He thinks I feel the same way about him.”<br/>
<br/>
“You,” he laughs.  “Is that Will Prescott or Kendra Saunders speaking.  Nah, can’t be Kendra, I don’t think she’s loved anything in her life.”  He leers at you and you squirm uncomfortably.  “What about you Prescott, you got a thing for Carpenter?”<br/>
<br/>
You blush furiously.  “I’m just playing a role,” you say uncertainly.  “Just being Kendra.  I guess she might be a good place to stay once we’re finished with Chelsea.”<br/>
<br/>
“Setting things up for your new home, huh Prescott,” ask Patterson.  You nod meekly.  “Makes sense, except for the bit with us both lying here naked.”  He runs a meaty hand along your stomach, tracing his fingers in an arc that culminates at your left breast.  He gives it a surprisingly gentle squeeze.<br/>
<br/>
“Well, I uh…” you stammer.  “He’s lousy in bed.  I need… Kendra needs something more.”<br/>
<br/>
“So am I a better fuck than Carpenter,” asks Patterson.  You blush again, your hand involuntarily reaching down to your crotch where Patterson spent himself just a few minutes previously. He barks a short laugh.  “Thought so. Not saying I’m not grateful but I think your getting too into being Kendra.  I’m not taking Chelsea down just to have you set up shop in her place.”  The Kendra persona wrapped around you bridles at this last comment but you push her feelings to one side.  “Once we get Gordon and Chelsea sorted you can have your pick of who you want to be.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll think about it,” you manage to say neutrally.  “Where is Gordon anyway?”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson frowns.  “Haven’t seen him since the party last night,” he explains.  After a moment he continues thoughtfully.  “He seemed angry about something.”<br/>
<br/>
You don’t want to add that he always seems angry.  Still, if Patterson thinks he was angry it must have been particularly bad.  You don’t have any time to take the train of thought any further, as a phone rings.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s mine,” you say.  “I mean Kendra’s.”  You stand up, trying to ignore the gooey mess dribbling down your thighs.  The cell phone is somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes, so you dig in and pull it out.<br/>
<br/>
It’s a message from the Zoe golem.  Your eyebrows shoot up when you open it:  It’s a picture of Chelsea sleeping.  A picture of her sleeping naked.  You gasp a little in shock.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson looks at you curiously.  “What is it,” he asks scrabbling to his feet.<br/>
<br/>
“You should take a look at this,” you say handing over the phone.  “It’s from Zoe.”<br/>
<br/>
He takes the cell phone and looks at it stupefied for a few seconds.  “Zoe?”<br/>
<br/>
“The golem,” you explain, taking back the phone.  “The one we made for Chelsea.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson grins broadly.  “Does that mean we’ve got her?”  He scowls.  “No, she’s just going clam up and deny it.”  He paces back and forwards a couple of times.  “Spread the photo round,” he says forcefully.  “Let everyone see it.”<br/>
<br/>
That sparks the interest of the Kendra persona lurking in your mind:  Putting the photo on Facebook, using Chelsea’s own methods against her.  You struggle to stifle a shiver of anticipation.  There’s only one problem.  “We need more,” you explain.  “It doesn’t show Chelsea <i>and </i>Zoe.  Together I mean.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson, to your surprise, manages to raise an eyebrow.  “So tell it to get more pictures.”<br/>
<br/>
“Not going to work,” you say quickly.  Patterson doesn’t look happy at all so you continue.  “Because it’ll be obvious who took them.  We need to keep them together and then get them caught by someone else.  They’ll take the pictures and paste them all over the web.”<br/>
<br/>
“You just volunteered,” says Patterson darkly.  <i>Well Fuck</i>.  “Get it done,” he adds, picking up his shorts and then pulling them on.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra’s mind pushes to the fore, planning things out quickly.  <i>There’s still a way to profit from this</i>.  You call back the golem.  It answers quickly.<br/>
<br/>
“Zoe,” you begin, shifting your smile into gear.  The golem can’t see you, and it has to do what you tell it to, but it’s a force of habit.  A Kendra habit.  “Is Chelsea with you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, it’s you,” replies the golem unhappily.  “Yes, she’s still sleeping.  That’s why I’m whispering.  And would like to keep this call short,” it adds pointedly.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course,” you say smoothly, taking a moment to compose yourself.  The golem’s unpleasant attitude is a surprise.  “Did you…  you know…”<br/>
<br/>
The golem sighs exasperatedly.  “Yes, but she was very drunk, so I don’t know how she’s going to react when she wakes up.  Which is why I want to get off the phone.”<br/>
<br/>
“In a minute,” you reply, adding a little edge to your voice to make your displeasure clear.  “I need you to keep her happy.  And then I need the two of you to be seen in public somewhere.”<br/>
<br/>
“You what,” the golem practically explodes.  “I can’t tell you to fuck off can I,” it says, whispering again.  “Or I could but then you’d fuck with my head.  Did you have anywhere in mind,” it asks resignedly.<br/>
<br/>
“Somewhere public enough that there’ll be other people there but quiet enough that you’ll be able to be affectionate.  I need you to be affectionate,” you explain with a smirk.  “The park at Keyserling,” you suggest.  “Or maybe the Crystal Cave?  It’s got those big deep booths.”<br/>
<br/>
“I understand,” deadpans the golem.  “Can I go now?”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course you can,” you say beatifically.  “Just let me know where you go and give me an hour to get ready.” <br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, whatever,” replies the golem and it hangs up the phone with a click.<br/>
<br/>
“You gonna be  able to handle this,” asks Patterson.  He’s fully dressed now.  You don’t answer his question, instead reaching to your face and yanking the Kendra mask away.  The ghost of Kendra’s mind wails for the briefest of moments and then evaporates.  You stumble and feel dizzy for a moment as your body snaps back to its natural shape.  “Fuck Prescott, I don’t wanna see your shrivelled up cock.  What the fuck are you doing.”<br/>
<br/>
“Kendra can’t be seen taking pictures of Zoe and Chelsea,” you explain instinctively covering yourself up.  “So I’ll need to wear a different mask.”<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck, whatever,” replies Patterson, turning away from you.  “Just put something on.”<br/>
<br/>
“The other masks are all in here,” you ask, indicating a cabinet.  Patterson make a non-committal grunt, so you check yourself.  “It’s locked.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson turns round long enough just to throw some keys in your direction.  You fumble the catch and have to scoop them from the floor.  The lock clicks open and you swing aside the door, revealing several masks.  “Gloria is in here, right,” you ask.<br/>
<br/>
“Whadya want her for,” mutters Patterson.  You sift through the mask, easily spotting the one with Gloria’s name glowing on the inside.<br/>
<br/>
You lift the mask to your face, shuddering as the changes rush through.  It leaves you drained and light headed, forcing you to lean on the cabinet for support.  “Because Chelsea set me up and chucked me off the team,” you say in her voice.  Not exactly true, because the mask was captured before Chelsea threw Gloria off the team.  You are sure from even the most basic reading of her emotions that she would feel that way though.  “I want revenge,” you add.  What you do not add is <i>And it will mean Kendra doesn’t catch any of the blame</i>.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson turns round and smiles appreciatively.  “Nice,” he says, leering.  A wave of Gloria-distaste flashes over you.   “I know you gotta go get those photos, but before you go do have time for a quick fuck?”<br/>
<br/>
“No,” you say flatly, shuddering in revulsion.  You feel a quick surge of relief as you realise that it is Kendra’s personality and not your own that is attracted to Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“Worth a try,” he shrugs.  “Lock up when you’re done Prescott,” he adds, stalking out the door.<br/>
<br/>
Where does the golem take Chelsea to?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212211111112212122
author_id: imaj
title: Gloria's Revenge by Proxy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You tug the ballcap down further and slouch back into the booth.  It’s one of Black’s old ones that was lying around in the fuck room.  It wouldn’t be Gloria’s first choice of headwear but with her distinctive dark red hair bundled under it, you are much less recognisable.  The last thing you need is Chelsea spotting you before you get the chance to take some pictures.<br/>
<br/>
A barista sullenly places your coffee on the table in front of you.  You mutter your thanks and pull it over.  The frothy concoction is too hot to drink, so you pick up a magazine and bury yourself in it.  It’s a dull thing that holds the interest of neither you nor Gloria, but it serves to hide your appearance just that little bit more.<br/>
<br/>
You wait, taking the occasional sip of your coffee and tapping impatiently on Kendra’s phone.<br/>
<br/>
The cup is half empty when you finally spot a couple of people walking down the aisle beside you.  You risk a glance up from the magazine – it’s Chelsea and the Zoe golem.  The former is distracted looking and misses you entirely, the latter favours you with a sly grin.  The golem steers Chelsea into the seat directly behind you and clambers in beside her.<br/>
<br/>
You look around the room to check that no one is looking and then climb up onto the seat a little.  The booths have high backs so you find yourself looking down at the top of Chelsea and the golem’s heads, spotting that the golem is holding Chelsea’s hand affectionately.  It’s not an ideal angle, but the two are recognisable enough so you take a couple of quick snaps.<br/>
<br/>
You settle back into your chair and listen to them talk.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m just not sure,” says Chelsea uncertainly.  You don’t think you’ve ever heard Chelsea sound uncertain before.  At least that’s what Gloria’s memories tell you.<br/>
<br/>
“You shouldn’t be” replies the golem.  You suddenly hit upon the brilliant idea of recording their conversation.  You tap a button on the phone and position it atop the booth to capture their voices better.  “You’re smart and you’re sexy Chels.  Strong and confident.  You don’t need to worry what everyone else thinks about you.”<br/>
<br/>
There is an awkward pause.  “I’m not sure,” repeats Chelsea in a very quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s not true,” says the golem.  “If you weren’t sure you wouldn’t be here.  You want to be convinced.”<br/>
<br/>
You hold your breath for a minute, certain that the golem has said the precisely wrong thing and Chelsea will fly into a rage.  “I know,” she replies to your surprise.  Chelsea sobs a couple of times.<br/>
<br/>
“Come here a second,” says the golem sympathetically.  There is a rustling sound behind you, so climb back up to take a look again.  The two are locked in an embrace, so you take another couple of photos.<br/>
<br/>
You sit back down again and realise the photos are useless.  The two are so close it’s hard to see them properly and work out who they are.  You place the phone back on the booth and keep listening.<br/>
<br/>
“Can we keep this a secret,” whines Chelsea.  “At least to start with.”<br/>
<br/>
“If you want to Chels,” replies the golem evenly.  “I’m happy to wait till you are ready because you are <i>worth </i>the wait.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you Zoe,” replies Chelsea.  Her tone surprise you, so uncharacteristic does it sound.  “We’ll work it all out.  We will.”  There is another rustling sound from behind you.  “I just need to go to the little girl’s room quickly.”<br/>
<br/>
You wait until Chelsea leaves the room before shifting to the edge of the booth and leaning out and round to the side of the one behind you.  “Hiya Zoe,” you smile.<br/>
<br/>
The golem looks at you and raises an eyebrow.  “The new look suits you,” it deadpans.<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you,” you grimace.  “Look, when Chelsea comes back out I want you to kiss her again.  But you have to make sure that I’ll be able to see both your faces.”  The golem nods, its expression sour.  “I need that photo.  You know it’s the only way to get her to come out.  Otherwise ‘keeping it secret’ will last for ever.”  After a moment’s though you add:  “You agree with me.”<br/>
<br/>
The golem’s expression changes subtly as the instruction takes hold.  “You’re right,” it admits.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course I am,” you smile again,  hauling yourself out of your booth.  “I’ll just be over here,” you add, walking to the counter opposite the booths.  <br/>
<br/>
You lean on the counter, facing away from the golem.  The barista is busy cleaning mugs and pays you no attention.  Not that you are in any rush, you drum your fingers and wait patiently for Chelsea to return.<br/>
<br/>
The door to the toilets opens and you glance to the side as Chelsea emerges.  As she walks back to her booth, you turn to face directly away from her so she will not recognise you.  The barista looks round, catches your eye and gives you a dirty look before going back to cleaning the mugs.  You sigh and pull out Kendra’s phone.<br/>
<br/>
You hold the phone at arms length, turning it a little until you can spy the booth behind you reflected on the phone’s surface.  Chelsea and the golem are clearly making out.  You twist round and take a couple of quick pictures.  They are far to engrossed in each other to notice you.  You turn back and find the barista in front of you.  She gives you an odd look, but says nothing as you pay the bill.<br/>
<br/>
You look back at the couple one last time, they are still to busy to notice you.  With a smile on your face and a spring in your step you walk out the Crystal Cave.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You drop the mask of Gloria on top of the discarded pile of clothes.  You will not be needing it again.  The Fuck Room is empty and there are no witnesses to your transformation back to Kendra.  Her thoughts and feeling settle back around you like a cloak, warm and familiar.  You take a deep breath and stretch, pushing Kendra’s limber body through some simple exercises.  It feels natural and comfortable.  It feels like being home.<br/>
<br/>
You pick up your phone and look through the pictures you took.  Taken together, and with the recording you made of Chelsea and the golem talking, they are quite damning.  You memorised Gloria’s Facebook login when you were under her mask and you could have the pictures online within an hour.  It would please Patterson and the Kendra part of you would enjoy watching the resulting drama play out when yo return to school tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
But another idea has occurred to you.  One that bears the imprint of Kendra’s though processes.  You could destroy Chelsea with these photos and pick up the pieces, but you could also <i>control </i>Chelsea.  The thought of blackmailing Chelsea and operating as the power behind the throne sends shivers down your spine, even though it means betraying Patterson.  Of course, if you were clever – and you are <i>very </i>clever, you are sure – he would <i>never </i>find out.</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122111111122121222
author_id: seuzz
title: A Puppetmistress Deploys Her Strings
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Oh my God," you squeal when you catch sight of the two girls. You jump to your feet, bumping the edge of the rough wooden table and spilling a little coffee across it. You ignore it, though, and hop across the room to pull first Kelsey and then Megan into an awkward embrace. "I'm so glad you could make it!" Your voice drops to a dramatic whisper. "Things are moving so quickly!"<br/>
<br/>
It's Sunday evening, and you're at the Milagro Beanfield Warehouse, one of the ritzier of the independent coffee shops that dot the neighborhood around Keyserling College. This is the spot that Kelsey had suggested as a meeting spot when you texted her, and the abstract, Southwestern-styled paintings on the walls match her silver and turquoise jewelry. She appears to be a regular, too, for she only has to glance at the barista with two raised fingers, and he sets to work.<br/>
<br/>
"I just got out of the most incredible meeting," you announce, and you grasp Kelsey's wrist. She grimaces and tries to tug it away, but you just clutch her all the more firmly. "Cindy Vredenburg organized it. It. Is. Happening."<br/>
<br/>
"What is?" Kelsey asks. Her eyes narrow.<br/>
<br/>
"They're challenging Chelsea!" you say in an excited whisper. "Yes! They're all set, but they need to be sure that you and Megan will go along with it." You look between them. "You're willing to help get rid of Chelsea, aren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
Instead of being pleased and excited, Kelsey turns annoyed. "You had a meeting about this? Why weren't we invited?" She and Megan exchange glances.<br/>
<br/>
"Because they're not sure you'd be on board! It just developed while we were talking. Don't worry, I vouched for you! That's what got it moving! I said—"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait," says Megan. "Who was at this meeting?"<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy, Yumi, and Lin. We were meeting to talk about, well—" You pretend embarrassment. "We weren't exactly at our best yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about?" Megan says. "We won!"<br/>
<br/>
"She's talking about the squad," Kelsey snaps. She glowers at you. "It's not like we had a lot of time to prepare."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, everyone knows that," you tell her soothingly. "Except Chelsea. <i>She</i> expects miracles. But that's why we were talking, because we know what kind of thing Chelsea's got in for you and the new girl—what's her name?—on Monday."<br/>
<br/>
You gesture the girls into a booth. "So, we started off by talking about how we need to stick up for you guys when Chelsea laces in to you—which she will—and then we started talking about, well ..." You grin. "What if we all went to Coach Tesla and threatened to quit the squad if Coach Tesla didn't fire her. Because, you know, without all kinds of votes and stuff, which would be really hard to pull off, we can't vote her out as squad captain. And then—"<br/>
<br/>
"Why would Coach Tesla listen to a threat like that?" Kelsey demands. Her attitude is growing more and more suspicious. "And what if she calls your bluff?" You notice that she says "your" rather than "our."<br/>
<br/>
"Because of what happened on Saturday. We'll tell her it was a disaster because Chelsea can't manage or train us. You know that Coach Tesla doesn't want to have to do any work, and that's why she leaves it to the squad captain to manage things. Our performance Saturday is a perfect excuse for us to tell her that Chelsea is mismanaging things, and it's a perfect excuse for Coach Tesla to believe us. And she knows that if we <i>do</i> follow through on the threat, then it'll be a gigantic black eye for the squad and for her and for—"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I think I get it," Kelsey says. She is still frowning, but it's a more thoughtful frown now. "But why do you need me and Megan?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because you'll tell Coach Tesla how Chelsea didn't give you good direction during the short time you had, and that with all her screaming she totally de— demoral— What is the word I'm looking for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Demoralized?" Kelsey says fluently. <i>AP bitch probably has that SAT word and a bajillion others on speed-dial.</i> "Yeah, we can go along with that," she says without consulting Megan. "What about the new girl?"<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "Her and Chelsea have something special going on between them. But with you guys, it'll be at least six of us going to Coach Tesla."<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey ponders the idea for a very short time before nodding. A gloating smile spreads across her face.<br/>
<br/>
"Excellent!" you squeal. "Now let's talk about what you're going to tell Coach Tesla."<br/>
<br/>
Under the table, you surreptitiously hit the Record button on your iPhone.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>"—can't continue on the squad as long as Chelsea is running it."</i> Kelsey's voice rings out clearly from your phone.<br/>
<br/>
So does yours: "<i>But you just joined! You have to give Chelsea a chance!"<br/>
<br/>
"We wouldn't have joined,"</i> says Megan, <i>"if we knew she was that kind of a captain. No one would. And if we quit no one is likely to join up to replace us because everyone will know what a disaster the squad is with Chelsea running it. They saw it on Saturday at the game."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, alright,"</i> you say. Horror chokes your voice. <i>"I'll have to think about this, but I really don't like it."<br/>
<br/>
"We're quitting,"</i> Kelsey says firmly. <i>"It doesn't matter what you think, Kendra. I mean—"</i><br/>
<br/>
At that point the recording runs out, before she could finish her correction: <i>I mean Coach.</i> As in <i>Coach Tesla.</i> For this conversation, which incriminates Kelsey and Megan while exonerating you, was a practice talk that, at your suggestion, the three of you carried on in the coffee shop, with you playing the part of the reluctant, Chelsea-defending Coach Tesla. The above is only the tail end of a much longer, much rehearsed anti-Chelsea screed.<br/>
<br/>
And this performance, like the one you and Keith recorded earlier in the week, has an audience of one: Chelsea Cooper.<br/>
<br/>
Her cheeks are pale and bloodless, and she grips the armrests of her chair. "That's all I could get, Chels," you tell her. "I reached down to get something out of my purse and I jogged my phone. But it was the same kind of stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"So let them quit," Chelsea says. Her suppressed trembles of rage rock the chair.<br/>
<br/>
"But if they get Cindy and Yumi and Lin to quit with them—"<br/>
<br/>
"Let them all quit! Fuck 'em! We need to get some juniors and sophomores onto the squad anyway. This'll clear out the deadwood. And the backbiters and backstabbers and—!"<br/>
<br/>
There's more of this, all of which could be lifted verbatim and inserted as subtitles into a "Hitler-in-his-bunker" YouTube meme. But you cut it short.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't bring this to you, Chelsea, so you could fuck up your life." You put your hand on your hip and give her a hard stare. "I brought this to you, because there's an even bigger shitstorm heading your way, and you need to know just how deep it's going to get."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea turns feverish eyes on you. Her pupils are dilated. "Worse?" she says. <br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." You nod gravely. "Someone gave me a little video. If you thought the other was bad, well ... "<br/>
<br/>
You tap at your iPhone, bringing up the file, then turn it around to show her. For almost a full minute the room dead silent, except for the sound of kissing and cooing and other wet endearments. The video is a slideshow of pictures taken earlier in the day, at a different coffee shop, of Chelsea and Zoe.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea seems to have frozen solid during it. When you turn it off and toss the phone onto her bed, her eyes remain fixed on the spot where you'd held it up.<br/>
<br/>
"I was supposed to post that online," you tell her. "Someone gave that to me to post, for the same reason Kelsey and Megan came to me with their plot. They think I hate you, and that I want to destroy you." You shrug. "So they think they can get me to do their dirty work if they give me the knife."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea stares at you from under her brows. You can read the meaning in her expression: <i>You do hate me, Kendra.</i> But all she says, in a very quiet and neutral tone, is, "So what am I supposed to do about it?"<br/>
<br/>
You kneel next to her. "It's Steve you gave me this video," you whisper, and her glare sharpens. "Steve and Gloria. She's the one who recorded it, and she gave it to him, and he gave it to me. He wants me to post it anonymously, same as Kelsey and Megan want me to go with them to complain to Coach Tesla."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do you want me to do about it?" Chelsea asks again. Her voice a soft sing-song, and briefly you wonder, in a terrified kind of way, if her brain has snapped.<br/>
<br/>
"First of all, you have to tell Gordon about this. Give him a head's up. Tell him something, like that Zoe got you drunk, so he'll understand that it's not your fault. Because that's what Steve is trying to do. He's trying to break up you and Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"And you won't post that video?" Chelsea asks in a childlike voice.<br/>
<br/>
"No. But Steve will just find someone else who will. You've got to <i>protect</i> yourself before that happens, Chels."<br/>
<br/>
She nods slowly. "But Kelsey and Megan—"<br/>
<br/>
"Let me go back to them and tell them that you're going to step back from the day to day training. You'll still be 'head cheerleader'. But someone else will run the practice and make the decisions. You'll just be, well, a figurehead."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea stares at you. You hold your breath.<br/>
<br/>
"You?" she says at last. "You'll run things instead?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod. <i>Chelsea as figurehead. But </i>me<i> actually in charge, pulling the strings ...</i><br/>
<br/>
Her gaze goes distance. "Yes," she says softly. "It all makes sense."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So you're feeling very pleased with yourself as you go in to school on Monday morning.<br/>
<br/>
Until the principal calls you into his office to ask about the whiskey bottle he found in your locker.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122121221111111221212221
author_id: seuzz
title: A Principal Plays Detective
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Mr. Sagansky is a tall, lean man who wears his hair in tousled, windswept curls. He also wears cowboy boots. All that and his crooked smile make him look like a cowboy—but with his expensive suits and tasteful silk ties and always polished BMW, he's a cowboy who went to business school.<br/>
<br/>
He's not smiling now, though, and his eyes aren't twinkling either, as they usually do. He slouches in the chair behind his broad desk and studies you gravely. Neither of you look at the bottle of whiskey that stands on the desk between you.<br/>
<br/>
"That's not mine," you tell him in a low, level voice.<br/>
<br/>
"And yet," he says, "we found it in your locker."<br/>
<br/>
"What were you looking in my locker for?" You're scared, but you're pissed, too, and it feels like smoke is coming out of your eyes. "When I tell my dad about this—"<br/>
<br/>
"I got an anonymous tip, the same as I got a tip about your friend Gloria's locker, and her mom being pissed didn't do <i>her</i> any good, given what we found in it." He opens one of the lower desk drawers and from it pulls another half-empty bottle of amber liquid. He sets it next to the first. The bottle makes a sound like a gavel falling as it hits the desk.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's not mine. Someone must have put it there."<br/>
<br/>
Now he does smile, faintly. "The same person who put the other one in Gloria's locker?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes! I mean, I don't know!" You lunge forward. "But don't you think it's funny that alcohol is suddenly turning up in cheerleaders' lockers?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I don't know," he drawls, and between that and the way he leans back he seems a lot more like a cowboy and a lot less like an educational bureaucrat with an Ivy League education. "I'm just the school principal, but even I hear stories about life with Chelsea." Briefly, his eyes twinkle. Then the twinkle fades. "But it's a simpler story if there's just one girl with a whiskey bottle, and if she's spreading it around."<br/>
<br/>
You never had a high opinion of Mr. Sagansky, his education and position notwithstanding. The man is a limp noodle when it comes to running a school. Any principal with any kind of backbone wouldn't let bullies like Gordon Black and Steve Patterson and Jason Lynch—and Lester Pozniak and Brophy Maddox and Nick Call—and David Kirkham and Gary Chen and George Mendoza—and Dalton Douglas and Dominic Kleeson and Roy Nelson—and Chelsea Cooper—and ... and ... and—run loose.<br/>
<br/>
So you're actually impressed that he's caught on to Chelsea's M.O. here. The only thing he's missing is that she got the bottle out of Coach Tesla's office. You have to wonder how many whiskey bottles the old drunk keeps there, as this is the second that Chelsea has planted.<br/>
<br/>
"I think you're right," you tell him, and you raise your chin. "I think someone's trying to frame a bunch of us cheerleaders."<br/>
<br/>
"Framing a bunch of them? Or just one?" With a sigh and a groan, Mr. Sagansky sits up. He reaches into that open desk drawer and takes out a glass. It's the kind of glass you've seen your dad—both your dads, your own and Kendra's—drink alcohol from. He sets it on the desk and into it he pours a fingerful of whiskey from the second bottle. "Care for some?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm underage, I don't drink," you stiffly reply, "and you shouldn't drink in front of minors!"<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't a social drink, Miss Saunders. It's a judicial drink. It's evidence. You see, there are different kinds of whiskey, same as there are different kinds of pop. Would it surprise you to find Coke inside a Coke bottle? Of course not. But to find Coke inside a Pepsi bottle, or a Dr. Pepper bottle?" He raises his eyebrows.<br/>
<br/>
"In the same way," he continues, "it surprises me very much to find this" —he raises the glass— "inside a bottle of this!" He clinks it against the neck of the bottle he poured it from: "High West Whiskey," the label reads. "Skol!" With a beaming smile he downs the whiskey.<br/>
<br/>
Then his smile vanishes, and he grimaces. "I'm way too old for this shit," he mutters after swallows it with a shudder.<br/>
<br/>
"On the other hand," he says as he opens the bottle he claimed to find inside your locker and pours a fingerful of its contents into the glass, "I'm not at all surprised to find the same kind of stuff inside this kind of bottle. Benchmark Old Number Eight," he mutters, which is the name on the label. "The bankrupt frat-boy's friend." <br/>
<br/>
He lifts the glass to his mouth, then sets it down with a frown. "It's a crime, Miss Saunders," he says. "A moral crime, a crime against taste, but a crime nonetheless, to pour out the contents of this bottle" —he pushes forward the bottle of High West— "and replace it with rotgut like this." He taps the bottle of Number Eight. "Which is what someone has done. Different bottles, but filled with the same crap. Like a Coke bottle and Pepsi bottle, but both of them filled with—" He shrugs. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't see what this proves," you say in a very tight voice.<br/>
<br/>
He clasps the High West. "This is the bottle we found in Gloria's locker," he says. "I don't mind saying that I sampled it after we found it, because this is an expensive brand, put out by a microdistillery, and fairly hard to find. I was very surprised to find it tasted so bad. But I understand it better after finding this one" —now he clasps the bottle of Number Eight— "in your locker."<br/>
<br/>
"I still don't understand." But you can't keep your eyes from darting about guiltily, for you feel a case being drawn up against you.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think Gloria kept a bottle of whiskey in her locker," Mr. Sagansky says. "Because why would she pour a cheap liquor into a bottle of the expensive stuff? No, I think someone got ahold of an empty bottle of High West whiskey and, not knowing the difference between a good liquor and a bad one, they half filled it with the cheap stuff she had on hand. Whoever bought the original bottle and kept it, would be the person who filled another bottle and put it in another girl's locker. And since this crap" —he flicks a fingertip against the bottle of Number Eight—"is the stuff we found in the bottle in Gloria's locker, and it's the stuff we found in its original bottle in <i>your</i> locker, I'm pretty sure it's clear now what happened."<br/>
<br/>
Yes, it is clear to you now. Only Sagansky's got the wrong culprit. It was <i>Chelsea</i> who got the one bottle from Coach Tesla's office, and filled another, empty bottle that she then put into Gloria's locker. Now she's put that original bottle in your locker—Kendra's locker—in order to frame you. But why?<br/>
<br/>
Mr. Sagansky is still studying your face. You can only say, "I didn't do it."<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "This isn't a courtroom. I don't have to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. But I'm pretty sure I've got it right."<br/>
<br/>
With that, he dismisses you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
In a daze you go to cheerleader practice, only to find the other girls milling about the floor in their regular clothes with Coach Tesla, looking even more grim and haggard than usual, standing watch with them. You learn what's up when you quietly ask Maria where Chelsea is, for she's the only girl missing. "Mr. Sagansky wanted to talk to her," she replies, and goes back to staring vacantly at the rafters.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey and Megan try catching your eye, but you ignore them. You're trembling too hard to do anything else.<br/>
<br/>
Why did Chelsea do it? You thought you had her pinned down. You were the good girl, the one who exposed all the plots to her, the one who was going to save her. Sure, you had named your price—she was going to have to step back and let you run the squad—but you'd still let her keep the title of "head cheerleader." So why has she stabbed you in the back this way?<br/>
<br/>
You can at least take some grim consolation in the fact that you've got her nailed with that video. Since she doesn't want to work with you, you can just work with Patterson. You'll post that video online, like he wanted you do, and that'll blow up Chelsea and Gordon, and it'll also ruin her reputation in the school. She'll <i>have</i> to quit the squad then, and then <i>neither</i> of you will be running it!<br/>
<br/>
So when Chelsea comes in with Gloria in tow, you just listen with a defiantly tilted chin as she tells the assembled squad that there's been a gross miscarriage of justice, and that you'll be quitting the squad and Gloria will be returning to it in your place. You feel the other girls staring at you from the corners of their eyes, but you don't give them or Chelsea the satisfaction of breaking down. Instead, with a shrug and a toss of your head you skip from the gym after being dismissed by Coach Tesla.<br/>
<br/>
Steve is waiting outside with folded arms. "Oh my God," you gasp when you see him. "I was just going to text you! Listen, I got the video all made up—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I heard." An Arctic gale seems to waft around his words. "I want you in the loft fourth period. You, me and Gordon are gonna talk about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Us and Gordon?" you squeak. "What do we need to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"You fucked me over, Prescott, and I don't appreciate it." He puts his face close to yours. "If you want to go on living, you will tell Gordon it was all your idea. I had nothing to do with it. Understand?"</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111221212211111112212122211
author_id: seuzz
title: Bad Breaks
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Steve, what's going on?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
His cheek twitches, hard. "Don't call me 'Steve', you fucking—" He chokes on his own words. "And don't flash those big brown eyes at me. I know what you look like under there, Prescott." He raises a clenched hand, and for a fearful moment you think he's going to punch you.<br/>
<br/>
But he doesn't, because even an asshole like Patterson won't punch a girl. Or, at least, someone who is looking like a girl.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't understand what's going on!" you exclaim. "I got the video like you told me too, all ready to upload and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Did I tell you to show it to Chelsea first?" he spits.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart and your limbs freeze.<br/>
<br/>
"She called Gordon last night. I don't know exactly what she told him, but she made it all right. Something about the new girl getting her drunk, and that someone got pictures of them." Patterson's eyes narrow. "That video you made, does it use the nude photos that Zoe took?"<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head. "No. If we used those, then Chelsea would know that Zoe was the one who—"<br/>
<br/>
"God <i>damn</i> it!" Patterson's gray eyes are like ice, but they're kind of ice found on the outer planets, whose touch would burn the skin off you. "If you'd shown Chelsea those, then she wouldn't have dared to—<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's too late now," he fumes, "and it's too late for you, you <i>cunt.</i> If you want to survive the day, you'd better stay out of Gordon's way. I won't be there to save you if you run into him alone."<br/>
<br/>
"But what happened?" you plead.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, Chelsea confessed to Gordon, so now he doesn't care what's in those pictures. He only knows that someone was trying to bust him and Chelsea up, and he thinks it's me. Or, that's what he was thinking before I got a chance to straighten him out."<br/>
<br/>
A grim smile—one of the most terrifying things you've ever seen—spreads across Patterson's face. "He told me it was Kendra who showed the pictures to Chelsea, and I told him who's been playing Kendra these days. So now he knows it's <i>you</i> who tried fucking him over."<br/>
<br/>
You actually fart at the news. But you're too scared, and Patterson is too pissed, to comment on the blast.<br/>
<br/>
"Steve! You can't do this to me! It was your idea!"<br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't my idea you get caught," he retorts. "And if you'd done like I told you, if you'd just posted the video, you wouldn't have. You fucked up, Prescott, I didn't, and I'm not paying the price."<br/>
<br/>
He jabs a finger into your breastbone. "So when you and me and Gordon meet up this afternoon in the loft, you just make sure you take all the blame yourself. Because even if you try telling Gordon it was me, he won't believe you. But I'll remember it if you say anything."<br/>
<br/>
He leans over you again. "And Jeremy Richards could use a friend."<br/>
<br/>
Your legs almost go out from under you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Only two-and-a-half periods separate you from your doom, and you give frantic thought for how to avoid it. Trouble is, you can't find an escape route.<br/>
<br/>
Running away won't work. Gordon and Steve will just wait for you to return to school, if they don't waylay you at home. You can't escape by returning to your old life, either, because after they get through figuring out that Kendra is herself again, they'll come find <i>you.</i><br/>
<br/>
Could you hide under a different mask by slipping in for one of the other people whose masks are up in the loft? You actually skip second period—like Kendra's Interior Design class is important now—to sneak up into the loft and to look through the possibilities. But then you reflect that Steve and Gordon, once they've figured out that you're not Kendra and you're not Will anymore, will just look to see whose mask is missing, and they'll find you there.<br/>
<br/>
In other words, you can't hide. And trying to will just make things worse.<br/>
<br/>
Could you just run away, full stop? Pack a bag and light out for territories unknown? It doesn't take you long to put that fantasy behind you. That would be a permanent change, and whatever Steve and Gordon have planned— Well, they'll be harsh, but once you're through it, things should return to something like normality, right?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Just take your medicine. It'll be like going to dentist. You can get through this.</i><br/>
<br/>
Still, you spend third period—skipping again—in the library, watching the clock with all the dread of a condemned man.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Damn it,</i> but Chelsea managed to outsmart you. But maybe it wasn't hard for her, given how dumb you realize (too late now) you were in thinking you could blackmail her. Chelsea has never liked Kendra, and would never have believed that Kendra was trying to protect her. Still, it was smart and gutsy of her to pre-empt you by confessing to Gordon, and confessing just enough that he wouldn't hold the truth against her. As for the whiskey bottle: that was another fast, brilliant move by her. It will have stopped that rebellion against her that Kelsey and Megan were planning. And by bringing Gloria back onto the squad while blaming you for framing her, Chelsea will make sure that that bitch is totally grateful and loyal.<br/>
<br/>
Shamefacedly you recall all those preening self-congratulations, fancying yourself the mistress of a multi-dimensional chessboard. With two quick, deft moves Chelsea has demolished everything you built. Word has already surely flashed across the internet to everyone who matters: Kendra Saunders framed Gloria Rea, and after being caught has been kicked off the cheerleader squad. Your reputation—Kendra's reputation—will have been utterly ruined. No one will <i>ever</i> trust her again. No one will ever even talk to her, probably. Even losers like Molly Shaw and Lotte Linde and "Grossie" Gutierrez will look down on her.<br/>
<br/>
You have only one consolation: You're not really Kendra Saunders.<br/>
<br/>
That gives you a ray of hope as the lunchtime bell rings, and you lurch reluctantly to your feet. The punishment to come will be over soon, and then maybe you can return to the (comparatively) more pleasant job of being Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Who knows?</i> you think as you walk toward the gym and the doom awaiting you in the loft above. When Kendra is back to being herself, and can no longer afford to be the snooty queen bee, maybe she'll give you a chance when you show her some sympathy and understanding.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Clothes off," Patterson says after shoving you backward onto the top of a crate.<br/>
<br/>
You gasp. "No! You wouldn't!"<br/>
<br/>
Neither he nor Gordon crack even the faintest smile. "You'll wish we had," Patterson says, "after you find out what we've got in store for you."<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly your fingers don't want to work. But bit by bit you unbutton your blouse and things, and strip everything off. "Now for the mask," Patterson says as you lay on your back, shivering. "That's how come we wanted the clothes off. So they wouldn't get ripped."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, that's thoughtful of them,</i> you think as Patterson's hand closes over your brow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"AAAIIIIIIIIIGH!" The shriek tears from your throat, and you bolt upright in agony. Your left ankle is a supernova of pain.<br/>
<br/>
And when you look back down at it, you see your foot twisted at a very unlikely angle.<br/>
<br/>
A hand goes over your mouth, then something soft and foul is stuffed into it. Through eyes bleared with tears you look up into Gordon's unsympathetic grimace.<br/>
<br/>
"Hold on tight, Prescott," Patterson says. You look down to see him grasp your right foot while raising a hammer over his head. "This one's gonna hurt even worse, 'cos you're going to be awake for it."<br/>
<br/>
The hammer falls.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're on your feet again. That's the miracle of the masks. Even though both your ankles are broken, once you are in Kendra's mask again, you are able to stand upright as though nothing is wrong. And even though both your wrists are broken, you can button yourself into the clothes. <br/>
<br/>
Overall in fact, you are feeling remarkably healthy.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, you've paid the price but you're off the team," Patterson says after you're dressed and are staring sullenly back at him. (Gordon had left the loft before you awoke again inside Kendra's mask.) "I've already told Johansson and Tilley that you're off and that they're not to speak to you ever again. They sure as hell won't help you. And to make sure that they don't, you're going to come up here to the loft every Saturday afternoon, so I can take that mask off and make sure that it's <i>you</i> under there.<br/>
<br/>
"Consider yourself to have got off light," he continues. He cocks his head. "You're still goddamned beautiful, <i>and</i> you've got one damn sexy body. Enjoy the rest of the year in it." With a wave of his hand, he dismisses you.<br/>
<br/>
Because that's your punishment. He explained it to you once you were back inside Kendra's mask, and were awake again. There was no reason Kendra should do the time for your crimes. So you get to be her for the rest of the year. "Make sure you get her into a good college," he advised you. "When she comes back, it'll best if she's on her way out of town."<br/>
<br/>
With your access to the loft cut off, you won't be able to change into any other form. Caleb and Keith have been warned not to help you. <br/>
<br/>
And you can't make a change on your own, not encumbered by two broken ankles and two broken wrists. They'll still be freshly broken if you ever take that mask off, Patterson has warned you.<br/>
<br/>
So you've got nothing left now but Kendra's body and her ruined reputation.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that's not quite true. You've still got a golem—Zoe—that might be able to help you.<br/>
<br/>
And you've still got Ian Carpenter.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112212122111111122121222112
author_id: seuzz
title: The Brick Wall
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>At the start of fifth period you are summoned into the office where you are officially given notice that you will be suspended from school for ten days starting tomorrow. That's fine: you don't want to have to face any of the other students anyway—the posts and memes are already starting to circulate online. Only one thing would be better than being suspended from school: having your social media privileges taken from you.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of which, there's a good chance of that, for you get a text from your dad telling you to be home immediately after school so as to discuss the situation. It comes with the hint that you are likely facing a grounding at least as long as your suspension.<br/>
<br/>
Life is so shitty that you actually feel somewhat serene, and decide to start your school suspension early by skipping the rest of the day. <br/>
<br/>
So you drive up to the mall.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But it turns out you're too numb to enjoy a good shopping spree, and besides, you'll just be in worse trouble if you show up at home with a bunch of new clothes. After an hour of wandering around The Shoppes at Fells Lake (where the really ritzy stores are), you send Ian a text: <i>I am in sooooooo much trouble. Can we pls get together?</i> You pile up a bunch of emojis onto it for good measure.<br/>
<br/>
Is this what it's going to be like for you for the rest of the year? Acting like Kendra? You got into all this trouble, you reflect, by letting her instincts and intuitions run away from you. For awhile, even, you were wondering if you were really Will Prescott still, or whether you had actually morphed into Kendra somehow without noticing it.<br/>
<br/>
The same thing seems to be happening now, as evidenced by your desire to flee into the arms of a boy. Is it only going to get worse from here?<br/>
<br/>
You don't have an answer to that, and Ian's answer is a long time in coming too. It's not the warmest: <i>230 next to gym.</i><br/>
<br/>
That gives you thirty minutes or so to kill, for Eastman is very close to the mall. As you drive aimlessly about the north side of the city, waiting for 2:30 to come, you find yourself pondering a really exquisite act of revenge.<br/>
<br/>
What if you revealed to Ian who you are, and told him about the masks, and what Patterson and Gordon were doing with them, and how they managed to use them to best Eastman at the big game? Carpenter has lots of friends at Eastman. They shouldn't have too much trouble breaking into the loft at Westside and stealing the grimoire and all the supplies. Out of gratitude to you, they might set you up with a new identity at Eastman, getting you out from under Patterson's thumb while also setting themselves up to revenge themselves on their crosstown rivals.<br/>
<br/>
It's a very pleasant fantasy, even if it's one you're not committed to, when you pull in to the parking lot at Eastman.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Ian is hanging out by the gym already, and there's a girl with him. You're almost on top of them before you recognize that it's Chris Yves.<br/>
<br/>
You ignore her, though, and try to fall into the basketball player's arms. "Oh, Ian," you groan as you pitch forward.<br/>
<br/>
He does catch you, but he also steps aside and puts you back on your feet. His expression is stony. "Hi Kendra," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Hi?" you echo. "Is that all you've got to say?" You try leaning in on him, but he sidesteps you again. "What's wrong? You have to get to class?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, this is my study period, but I don't have a lot of time." His tone is clipped.<br/>
<br/>
You groan again. "But I was hoping— I've had such a shitty day!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I've heard." His eyes are green, so they can't match the icy chill that Patterson can generate, but his gaze is very chilly.<br/>
<br/>
"You've heard?" you cry. "About—? What have you heard? The cheerleading squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"About you being suspended," he says. "And why." He pauses. "Alyssa told me."<br/>
<br/>
"Alyssa? You can't believe—! Okay, I did get suspended, but it's not my fault, I was—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Save it, honey," a voice says sharply, and you wheel with a frown on Chris Yves. "No one's catching what you're pitching."<br/>
<br/>
"What I'm pitching?" It must be your day to repeat what everyone else is saying. "What's going on, Ian? Why are you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on," Chris says, "is that Summer spilled everything. And once she spilled it, Maddy spilled, and then Lisa got in her side of things. It's all consistent and it all adds up."<br/>
<br/>
"Adds up to what?" You swing, gasping, between Ian and Chris.<br/>
<br/>
"A plot to get at Alyssa," Chris says. "We figured Chelsea Cooper was working it all, but it's starting to sound like you were freelancing all the way." She rolls her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Ian!" you cry out.<br/>
<br/>
His mouth curls. "I don't like being used," he says. He turns and stalks away.<br/>
<br/>
"Ian!" you shout after him. "It's not—! I didn't—! I <i>love</i> you, Ian! I did it for <i>us!</i> For <i>me</i>, not to do anything to— to—!" You break down sobbing.<br/>
<br/>
After a minute of this, you notice Chris still standing with folded arms, watching contemptuously. "What do you want?" you snarl at her. "What business of this is yours?"<br/>
<br/>
"None," she snorts. "I hate this kind of drama. Which is why I wanted to stomp it out." She looks you up and down. "And now I'm just here because I want to see what kind of a girl it is who stirs this kind of shit up." She snorts again, shakes her head, and follows Ian.<br/>
<br/>
And you collapse, blubbering, against the wall of the gym.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
How long you're there for, you don't know. Quite a while, you'd guess. Long enough for multiple fantasies of revenge to bubble up and die back down again.<br/>
<br/>
You'll go back to Patterson, and swear to him that you'll be good, if only you use the masks to get back at Ian!<br/>
<br/>
You'll go find Ian, and you'll tell him about the masks, and how to use them to get revenge on Patterson and Black!<br/>
<br/>
You'll go find Caleb and Keith, and together you'll find a way to take <i>everyone</i> down!<br/>
<br/>
You'll talk to Chelsea, and tell her about the masks and what Patterson and Black were getting up to, and <i>she'll</i> help you get revenge on them!<br/>
<br/>
You'll find someone—<i>anyone</i>—with a grudge against Patterson, and you'll show them about the mask, and they'll help you take revenge on everyone!<br/>
<br/>
It's the latter—a someone, a no one in particular—who touches your arm. "Hey," a warm, masculine voice says. "You're gonna scrape your face all up if you keep crying into that wall." A strong hand clasps you shoulder, and you feel a face put close to yours. "You don't have to talk," it continues in a very gentle tone. "Just put your face in my chest and have a good cry there. It's softer."<br/>
<br/>
There's something very compelling about both the voice and the suggestion, and impulsively you wheel and bury your face in what feels like a sweatshirt. You snuffle and weep and make weak, gasping sounds. But strong arms close about you, and warmth and strength seem to enter you from them.<br/>
<br/>
At last you raise your head and squint into the face of your comforter. At first you just see a nose and a mouth filled with blinding white teeth. Then you pull back enough to get a good look at him.<br/>
<br/>
He's blonde, with deep blue eyes that twinkle merrily, and the widest, most dazzling smile you think you've ever seen. It takes you a moment to place him, since you know you've seen him. He's one of the Eastman basketball players, and you saw him at the two Eastman parties you recently attended as well as on the court.<br/>
<br/>
"Hi," you stammer. "And— Oh God." You almost start to weep again when you see the mess you've made on his shirt. "I'm so sorry! I got snot and stuff all down your front!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's okay," he laughs. "Snot and stuff comes out easier than spaghetti sauce, and I get <i>that</i> all over me every time I eat Italian."<br/>
<br/>
He just keeps smiling, and you can't stop staring at that smile and at him. He notices, and his smile deepens. "Yeah," he says softly. "I'm having fun too."<br/>
<br/>
That snaps you out of your reverie. "Oh, God," you repeat, and wipe at your face. "I'm making a mess of myself, and I shouldn't even be here."<br/>
<br/>
"Where should you be?" He steps back, putting space between you, but he doesn't let you go.<br/>
<br/>
"Home. School."<br/>
<br/>
"Westside?"<br/>
<br/>
You look up at him sharply. "How do you know?"<br/>
<br/>
The smile turns sly without losing any of its warmth. "Oh, I think I'd remember the Westside cheerleader who gave our team captain a fat smacker just before the game."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God!" You cover your mouth with your hand.<br/>
<br/>
He laughs again, says, "Scared you?", then darts in to give you a peck on the cheek. "I don't hold it against you." But then he looks around. "Some of the other guys might, though." He pulls you in close again. "How about we go hide someplace, just the two of us, and you tell me all about whatever you want." He bangs his fist lightly on the wall of the gym. "People think I'm dumb as a brick, but I'm at least twice as fun to talk to!"<br/>
<br/>
It's a tempting invitation, for there's something about his smile that all by itself makes you feel better. And, as an Eastman basketball player, he would probably be receptive to learning about how Westside did so good at screwing with the Eastman team.<br/>
<br/>
"My name's Joe," he says. "And until my brother Frank finds us, you've got my undivided attention."</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222
author_id: imaj
title: Dealing With Rejection
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“I’m not sure,” says Ian, his hand squirming in your own.  He pulls it clear and turns round to look out into the garden again.  Alyssa is still out there, walking further and further away.  He turns back to you.  “I think I upset her,” he says unhappily.  He edges out away from you, taking great care not to touch you.  “I should go speak to her,” he adds before slinking out through the door and into the garden.<br/>
<br/>
You half fall into the space he vacated, leaning heavily onto the kitchen worktop and suppress a scowl.  The Kendra part of you rankles badly at the rejection, and a half dozen or so far fetched schemes for revenge worm their way inside your head.  With an effort you push them to one side.  After all, Patterson only specified that he wanted you to acquire a basketball player, he never said which one.<br/>
<br/>
You slip your smile into gear again, pasting a sunny countenance over your disappointment.  Jon Straussler is still here.  Not only is he a basketball player as well, but his family are fabulously wealthy.  A better catch by far than Carpenter then, from Kendra’s point of view.<br/>
<br/>
You turn round to look at Straussler.  “She has him all twisted up doesn’t she,” you ask with a wry little smile.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you coolly.  No doubt stories of Kendra’s behaviour have made their way out to Eastman.  “Maybe he’s better off that way,” he tells you not meeting your eye.<br/>
<br/>
“I was just trying to help,” you say, with a little less insincerity than Kendra would normally use.  He looks you in the eye now, a cold hard stare that almost makes you flinch.  “He’s a cute guy.  I could see myself having fun with him.”<br/>
<br/>
Straussler sighs and relaxes a little.  “I, we – the whole team – are fed up of him mooning round after Alyssa. We all know that it’s not going to happen and his game is suffering because of it.  If he fucked someone else,” he explains. He’s quite blunt and matter-of-fact. “He’d get over it.”<br/>
<br/>
“But he’s so hung up on her he wouldn’t even notice if someone else was served up on a plate in front of him.”  Straussler shakes his head sorrowfully.  “I usually don’t take rejection very well.”<br/>
<br/>
“Suck it up,” he says.  “Ian might need to get over Alyssa, but I’m not sure you’d be any better for him.”<br/>
<br/>
The sudden surge of anger is easily controlled.  Kendra is practiced enough at not letting other people rile her up and that skill is now yours to use.  Instead you pout at him.  “What about you Jon,” you ask twisting your body a little to better display its curves.  You lay a hand on his shoulder.  “Would you miss something that was laid out in front of you?”<br/>
<br/>
He stands absolutely still, his breathing very shallow.  Jon’s eyes flicker, briefly looking down the top of your dress before desperately trying to fix themselves on some point behind your head.  You wriggle a little and let out a soft little moan.  His willpower is draining away in inches, your stolen Kendra instincts tell you as much.<br/>
<br/>
“Jon sweetie,” coos a voice behind you.<br/>
<br/>
You turn and look at the interloper, a little slip of a girl to your Kendra-tinged mind.  Oh she’s pretty enough if you like that sort of thing:  A tight, petite body, a pretty face and lustrous brown hair.  She’s no match for <i>you </i>though.<br/>
<br/>
Her intervention seems to break the spell though, when you turn back to Jon he seems to have moved away from you.  Involuntarily your fingers curl into ragged claw shapes and you grimace.  Jon doesn’t see it though, he’s already moved past you and is heading for the girl.  You manage to force the smile back into place and turn round to face the pair.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey Monique,” says Jon.  He towers over her as he wraps his long arms round her.  They press close to each other, hugging tightly.  Monique lays her head side on onto Jon’s chest, he in turn kisses the top of her head.  Their embrace leaves her positioned able to stare straight at you, and the cold venom in her eyes leaves you in no doubt as to her feeling regarding you.  You scowl back at her ineffectually before stomping off.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The rest of the party is something of a washout.  The various Eastman students are never anything other than polite to you, but it’s clear that Alyssa holds sway over everyone here.  Though no one says as much, you are unwelcome:  conversations draw to a close, people close ranks and the basketball players disappear at your approach.<br/>
<br/>
You make one last circuit of the house, hoping to catch one of the ball players alone, but luck seems to be against you.  As you walk through the now seemingly abandoned upper floors, you hear a voice talking as you pass the library.  You creep up the door and peek round to see who it is.<br/>
<br/>
Disappointingly, it’s Monique, Straussler’s girlfriend.<br/>
<br/>
She is sat with her back to you, talking quietly on a cell phone.  You regard her with a certain disgust, as she essentially stopped you from completing the task Patterson set.  You were <i>this </i>close to getting Straussler alone and using the blank mask in your purse on him.  Now you are going to have to go back to Westside and explain to Patterson why you failed.<br/>
<br/>
And yet…<br/>
<br/>
Monique is Strassler’s girlfriend.  If anyone would be able to get him alone it would be her.  If you used the blank mask on her…  Well, you might not be able to get an Eastman ball player today, but as Monique it would be a simple task next time.  That might be enough to keep Patterson happy.  If it ended up damaging the bitch’s relationship with Straussler, well that would be a bonus too.<br/>
<br/>
You reach inside the lime green purse Patterson gave you earlier, feeling for the mask.  It is cold to your fingertips.  Grasping it, you slide it out and double check you have picked the right one.  Though Monique would probably make a good addition to the girl you are building for Chelsea’s benefit, you’d prefer not to spend the extra time you’d need to make a second copy.  It’s the blank mask though, so you sneak inside the library.<br/>
<br/>
You stalk up behind Monique, the blank mask gripped firmly in one hand.  She has enough time for an abrupt yelp of surprise.  Her struggles only last for a few brief moments before you place the mask on Monique’s face.  Then her body goes slack and lifeless as the mask sinks within.  You walk round to the front of Monique’s seat, picking up her cell phone from where it has dropped to the floor.  A tinny little voice can be heard from the phone, but you end the call and drop the phone on the seat beside Monique.<br/>
<br/>
You smirk as you stare at her unconscious face.  It’s no less than she deserves.  Still, you have to wait as the mask does its work.  You walk back to the door out and check the corridor outside, not wanting to be interrupted.  There’s no one there, so you close the door and return to beside Monique to wait for the mask.<br/>
<br/>
As you stand beside her, a treacherous thought forms in your mind.  Just how much did Kendra’s personality influence you here?  You felt her anger when first Carpenter and then Straussler rejected her.  Is Monique’s face really going to be useful in getting close to one of the basketball players later, or did you just convince yourself that was the case to satisfy Kendra’s need for cheap revenge.<br/>
<br/>
You gulp nervously as the mask emerges from behind Monique’s features, momentarily twisting them impossibly.  It rolls from her face and you grab it quickly before it falls to the floor.  She moans, and her eyelids flutter.  It won’t be long before she wakes.  You shove the mask into your purse and half run out the room.<br/>
<br/>
No one gives a second glance as your walk rapidly down the stairs and out the front door.  In truth they are more than happy to see you leave.  Your own thoughts are consumed by having to report back to Patterson.  He isn’t going to be happy when he discovers you have wasted a mask on the Kendra’s whims.  Then again, it might be better to be upfront about it, go and tell him right away.  Alternately you could return to the elementary school basement and test out the mask that combines Tina with Andrea and Maria.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221
author_id: imaj
title: The Cost of Failure
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Patterson leans back against one of the crates in the Fuck Room as you arrive, a half empty beer bottle in one hand.  He acknowledges your presence with a brief nod.  You stand there for a minute, still done up as Kendra, waiting for him to say something.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson takes a swig from the bottle.<br/>
<br/>
“Uh…  I’m back,” you say hesitantly after a little while.  The part of you that is still channelling Kendra bridles at your meekness.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson sets his bottle down on top of a crate and stands up straight.  He looms over you.  “You got five minutes to get out of that shit,” he tells you, glancing at his watch as he does.  “I don’t wanna see your scrawny ass naked when I get back.”  With that he brushes past you and leaves you alone in the loft.<br/>
<br/>
You take Patterson’s warning at face value and fling the purse you’ve carried since this morning to the side, quickly divesting yourself of the clothes you are wearing:  The dress, the boots, the underwear and even the hair band quickly end up in a rough pile on the floor.  Then you reach up to your face and say the words that let you pull away the mask.  You summon every ounce of your willpower to try and stay awake as it reluctantly parts from your face.<br/>
<br/>
The room swims and your vision fades and blurs, but you manage it:  You take the mask off without falling unconscious.<br/>
<br/>
Your triumph quickly spoils though – Your own clothes are nowhere in sight.  “Shit, Shit, <i>Shit</i>,” you mutter to yourself as you hunt desperately through the loft looking for them.  Eventually you find them rammed down the back of a rolled up old gym mat.  You look around.  No sign of Patterson yet, but he could be back any second.  So you start pulling your clothes back on as quickly as you can.  You stumble a little as you slip your shorts back into place, then you fumble with the buttons of your shirt, managing to match them up to the wrong holes.  The mistake costs you precious seconds as you redo them.<br/>
<br/>
“You better be fuckin’ dressed,” hollers Patterson from just outside the Fuck Room.  In fact, you’re still in the act of pulling your pants back up.  The sudden distraction knocks you of balance and you fall to the floor with them at half mast.  “You’re a fuck up Prescott,” says Patterson from somewhere in side the room now.  You tilt your head.  He’s right above you.  “What are you?”<br/>
<br/>
“A fuck up,” you say weakly.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t fuckin’ forget it,” he adds, turning away from you as you struggle up from the floor.  You finally pull up your pants, tucking your shirt inside the waistband.  “Tell me you got the stuff at the party.”<br/>
<br/>
You hurry back over to where you dropped the purse and pick it back up.  Looking inside, you find the mind the mind band of Chris Yves first.  Anxiously, you pull it out and give it to Patterson.  He grins ferally as he snatches it from you.<br/>
<br/>
“Christine Yves, huh,” he says as he reads the mind band.  “Don’t know the name.  You sure she’s right for our girl?”<br/>
<br/>
“I saw her making out with another girl,” you stammer.<br/>
<br/>
“You sure they weren’t just doing that for the attention,” smirks Patterson.  “It happens sometimes.”<br/>
<br/>
“No,” you manage to reply, forcing out the words.  “They were in a room by themselves when I walked in.”  Patterson snorts a gruff laugh.  “She’ll do.  What else you got for me?”<br/>
<br/>
The next item out of the purse is the mask that combines Andrea, Maria and Tina.  You manage to get your hands to stop shaking long enough to hand it over to Patterson.  He looks at it critically, tilting it this way and that as he inspects the face caught within.  “Not bad,” he says.  “At least our girl’s goin’ to look the part.  You know Prescott, give me that last mask and I might actually start thinking you’re not a total loser.”<br/>
<br/>
“I… Uh…” is all you can manage.<br/>
<br/>
“You got the mask of the ball player,” asks Patterson.  “Right?”<br/>
<br/>
You just stand there, frozen like an animal caught in the headlights of an approaching car.  Patterson throws the mask of Andrea, Maria and Tina to one side snatches the purse from your unresting hands.  He digs inside, looking for the last mask.  The purse drops to the floor as he pulls it out.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at the mask, the one of Monique, his lips curling in contempt.  “What the fuck is this Prescott,” he shouts.  “Who the fuck is Monique Travers?”<br/>
<br/>
“I couldn’t get a hold of one of the basketball team,” you stutter.  The words tumble out too fast, barely making any sense at all.  Patterson stares at you, his contempt obvious.  “She’s Jon Straussler’s girlfriend.  I though I could use her later to get close to him and get a mask then.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson moves lightning fast, bundling you up against a pile of crates.  “I didn’t ask you to think,” he shouts loudly right in your ear as he pushes your faces against the rough wood of the crate.  “I asked you to get a fucking mask of one of their team.”<br/>
<br/>
He grabs you by the hair and pulls your face clear of the crate before slamming it right back against it.  You yell out in pain.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cry.<br/>
<br/>
“What fuckin’ good does that do me,” shouts back Patterson.  He slams your head against the crate again for good measure.  “Now I gotta waste another fuckin’ mask on that bunch of pussies because you <i>thought</i>…”  He hits your head off the crate for a third time.  This time, at least, he doesn’t hit you too hard.<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry,” you wail again.  “I’ll get it for you next time, I swear…”<br/>
<br/>
He lets go and you fall to the floor, rolling over before you come to rest.  Patterson just shakes his head in disgust.  “Get the <i>fuck </i>out of my sight you useless piece of shit.”<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t need to tell you twice.  You scramble to your feet and run out of the Fuck Room.  You don’t stop running till you reach home.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You Mom wanted to know about the marks on your face.  You’d told her that you had fallen.  She didn’t believe you, you could tell that much, but she didn’t press the issue.  You’d taken your dinner up the stairs and eaten in cold isolation, unwilling to face whatever inquisition your dad would have started over the rapidly forming bruises on your cheek.<br/>
<br/>
You stare at your maths homework.  The questions aren’t going to answer themselves anytime soon, but you just can’t muster the effort to solve them yourself.  You’re on the verge of giving up on it and going to bed early when your cell phone rings.  You don’t recognise the number, so you speak hesitantly when you answer the call.<br/>
<br/>
“Hello?”<br/>
<br/>
“Prescott,” comes a terse voice over the line.  It’s Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“Look,” you sigh.  “If you called to shout at me again, I get it,” you say with resignation.  “Just tell me what you want, I’ll do it, ok?”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson snorts derisively.  “So you do have a little backbone, shame it only shows when you’re miles away.  Get your ass back over to the loft.”<br/>
<br/>
“What,” you say, your voice sounding strangled.<br/>
<br/>
“I said, get your <i>fuckin</i>’ ass back over to the loft,” repeats Patterson.  “Don’t make me say it again.  I’ve changed my mind about that mask you got,” he adds ominously.<br/>
<br/>
You shiver involuntarily, wondering exactly what he means.  Do you do as he asks, hoping to get back on his good side, or do you make your excuses and go to bed?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122211
author_id: imaj
title: Pretty Little Things
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It isn’t Patterson waiting for you in the Fuck Room when you arrive but Kendra Saunders.  She’s wearing the same clothes – the lime green minidress and boots – that you wore this afternoon when you were pretending to be her.  Her stance is all wrong though.  When you were Kendra you were languid and sleek.  The girl in front of you bristles with pent up aggression.  The sight is so weird that you visibly double take at it.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t know how you do it Prescott,” says Kendra.  “Let yourself be like the cunt so easily.”<br/>
<br/>
The statement only serves to addle your brain further.  You stare in stupefaction for a few moments until your mind finally catches up.  Is it Patterson?  The words must have slipped out your mouth without you realising it, as Kendra nods and replies.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah it’s me.”<br/>
<br/>
“But you’ve been people before,” you mutter without thinking.  “You fooled Caleb that you were me…”<br/>
<br/>
“Being you is easy,” replies Patterson, his hands on his hips.  “You’re too much of coward to be a problem.  This cunt’s mind wants to take over.  I remember you trying to sink your claws into that pussy Carpenter earlier now,” he says, tilting his Kendra head to the side quizzically.  Not sure if I think you’re a total faggot or if you get a little respect for being willing to go that far…”  He grimaces, but it looks unnatural on Kendra’s face.  “The thought of touching Carpenter makes me want to throw up…” <br/>
<br/>
You shrug as you think about it.  All you do is just gently steer the personalities in the direction you want to go, you hadn’t realised there was any skill to it.  “Not that I’m complaining or anything, not having my face shoved into crate is neat and all, but what did you want?”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson steps forward, taking your head in delicate brown fingers.  He turns it to the side and inspects your cheek.  “It’s just a bruise,” he says dismissively.  “Quit complaining.”  He steps back and folds his arms, almost pushing his boobs out of the dress he is wearing.  “I decided your idea wasn’t that bad at all.”<br/>
<br/>
You give him a puzzled look.  “What idea?”<br/>
<br/>
“Straussler’s girl,” he explains.  “Monique.  Use her to get close to him.  Fucker’s loaded, might be useful later.”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay,” you say slowly, still not getting it.  “So why do you need me here now, and why uh…”  You finish the question by pointing vaguely in his direction.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a permanent position,” he grins wolfishly.  You don’t get it, not at first anyway.  He pulls a mask from off the top of a crate and gives it to you.  It’s the one you made earlier, with Monique Travers’ name clear on the inside.  “Go on back and get changed.<br/>
<br/>
“Wait, what,” you stutter.  “But there aren’t any clothes.”<br/>
<br/>
“There will be when she gets here,” adds Patterson, still grinning in a way that looks out of place on Kendra’s face.  “Get changed and hide in the back till I call you out.  You’ll know what to do,” he explains ominously.  You stand stunned.  “Fuck’s sake,” mutters Patterson.  “I called Monique as this cunt, told her I was sorry for fucking about with Straussler at the party and asked her to come over here so we could talk about it.”<br/>
<br/>
It’s crazy but the only thought that occurs to you is whether or not Patterson used those exact words when he spoke to Monique as Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
“…she’ll be here soon.  I’m going to bring her up here,” he continues.  “And you need to get <i>fuckin’ change</i>d.”  He stomps out, leaving you alone in the Fuck Room again.<br/>
<br/>
You slip past an old gym horse and into a recess at the back of loft.  It’s cold back here, so you don’t take your clothes off.  Instead you jut slip the mask onto your face.  Monique is so much smaller than you that it shouldn’t be a problem.  You stomach turns over and spots wobble in front of your eyes, but you manage to remain upright as the room seems to grow round you.<br/>
<br/>
Monique is <i>small</i>.<br/>
<br/>
Your pants pool at your feet and you have to reach down and pull them back up, tightening your belt a few notches.  Even then, they still bunch up at your ankles.  You shirt is much the same, it hangs loosely round your shoulders and your hands are only three quarters up the length of the sleeves.  You hold one hand up and watch as the last part of the fabric of the sleeve hangs loosely.<br/>
<br/>
You lower yourself to the floor, sitting cross-legged.  You lean back and wait for Patterson to return with his victim.<br/>
<br/>
It isn’t too long before you hear people enter the Fuck Room.  A couple of voices carry through the loft and you begin to make out their conversation.  “…is great, but why’d I have to come out here for you to say it.”  You recognise the voice from earlier – Monique.<br/>
<br/>
“Well there’s someone I want you to meet,” you hear Patterson say in Kendra’s voice.  It certainly sounds like Kendra, but there’s just some nagging little quality to it that hints otherwise.  Of course, since Monique barely knows Kendra or Patterson, you doubt she’d spot it.  “I said, <i>there’s someone here I want you to meet</i>.”<br/>
<br/>
You figure that to be your cue, and stumble to your feet before walking towards the voices.  Your outsized clothes trail badly in your wake as you push your way past all the abandoned gym equipment.<br/>
<br/>
“Who…  who…  who…” stammers Monique as you approach.  Though it isn’t the first time you have seen her, the last time you looked at Monique your view was tinged by Kendra’s personality and her venomous envy.  Now you can view Monique without that baggage, though Monique’s own feelings about her appearance teeter on the edge of your mind.<br/>
<br/>
She is pretty, <i>very </i>pretty – a budding beauty ready to bloom.  Now that her memories fizzle within your reach, you see that she is only a freshman.  It makes your stomach twist a little, the idea of suddenly losing a couple of years, but the body might be compensation.  Monique is petite and slim, though the sight of her twin has robbed her of her normally sunny countenance.  You admire the delicate features of her face and the shiny brown hair drawn into a loose ponytail.  It’s all yours now, or will be once you help Patterson deal with the original.<br/>
<br/>
“Hiya,” you say to her.  It is much easier for you to maintain Monique’s innocent enthusiasm.<br/>
<br/>
“Isn’t it obvious,” drawls Patterson, totally abandoning any pretence of Kendra’s persona.  “This is Monique Travers.”<br/>
<br/>
“But… but… but…” stutters the other Monique.<br/>
<br/>
“But she can’t be,” suggests Patterson.  “Because you’re Monique?  Not any more.  Monique needs her clothes.  <i>Take them off</i>.”<br/>
<br/>
You smile wanly.  Patterson seems to want to play this cruelly, something that doesn’t sit well with you.  You have no choice but to play along though.  “Please,” you say, using the pleading tone of voice that Monique sometimes falls back on.  “Do as she says, for both our sakes.  I’m you, really, I am.”  You feel a little guilty lying to her, she’s such a sweet girl.  “Remember that time when you were four, and you got separated from Mom in the park.  I hid under that tree when it started to rain.  I was so scared.”<br/>
<br/>
Monique swallows and nods slowly, the memory you dredged up managing to convince her.  She starts to unbutton her blouse, slowly peeling it away to reveal a taut stomach and small boobs encased in a simple pink bra.  You push down the sense of rising excitement.  <i>It’s my body</i>, you think, <i>I see it in the mirror every day</i>.  Memories of showering and getting dressed as Monique surface.<br/>
<br/>
You mirror her movements, taking of your own clothes in turn.  Two piles form on the floor and soon you are both standing naked.  “Thank you,” you tell your twin.  “I really am so sorry about this.”<br/>
<br/>
The other Monique’s eyes go wide.  “About what?”<br/>
<br/>
“About lying to you,” laughs Patterson.  Monique doesn’t have time to react.  Patterson slams another mask onto her face.  The girl’s body simply melts away to be replaced with your own.  “Fuck,” grimaces Patterson.  “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want to see your scrawny ass?  Take your shit back there and put some clothes on.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes boss,” says the replacement you glumly.  It picks up the pile of clothes you’ve just discarded and disappears into the back of the loft.<br/>
<br/>
“He’s under your control,” you ask worriedly, looking in the direction the golem has gone.<br/>
<br/>
“Less likely to fuck up that way,” sneers Patterson.  “You need to get your clothes on to.  You can stay here though.”  He laughs an ugly laugh.  “Or don’t put them on.  Maybe we could have some fun,” he adds, giving you an appraising look.<br/>
<br/>
An urgent Monique thought pushes to the front of your thoughts.  It’s a simple no.  She isn’t ready to go that far with a guy.  Not yet.  You blush, mostly on Monique’s instincts, though inside you are relieved that you won’t have to sleep with Straussler.<br/>
<br/>
“I should go,” you say meekly, though it is more Monique’s shyness than your own.  You pick up your underwear and slip it on, holding to the Monique thoughts that tell you it is comfortable and familiar.<br/>
<br/>
“Suit yourself,” says Patterson with a shrug.  He pulls out another mask from behind a crate as you pull Monique’s jeans up.  They’re a tight fit, but they show off your new legs so well.  “This is for Straussler,” he tells you before dropping it to the floor beside Monique’s sneakers.  “Get a copy as soon as you can.”<br/>
<br/>
“Okay,” you say, trying to hide the mortified sensation coming from Monique’s personality.  The idea of betraying Jon revolts her.<br/>
<br/>
But you don’t have a choice, do you?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222111
author_id: imaj
title: At Home With The Strausslers
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You sit in Monique’s pajamas at the little desk in her bedroom, humming a light tune that she has had in her head for a few days now.  You twiddle the pencil in your hand as you look over the last of the maths homework.  It’s easy, way below your capability.  Hardly surprising since Monique is only a freshman.  You mastered this simple part of geometry long ago.  For Monique, it was a frightening and formidable obstacle.  That’s why you are taking you time.  You don’t want Monique’s parents to question their daughter’s sudden ability in what had been her weakest subject.<br/>
<br/>
There’s only so long you can spin it out though.  You jot down the last answer and place the pencil down.  The phone handset on the edge of the desk catches your eye.  Monique’s family are comfortably off, well enough off that Monique has her own phone line.  You lift it up and tap out Jon’s number from memory.<br/>
<br/>
He answers quickly.  “Hey songbird,” you hear him say through the phone.  Monique’s persona demand that you giggle at his use of the pet name.  You comply, the light, sweet tones of girlish laughter seem almost like music to you.<br/>
<br/>
“Hiya Jon,” you reply to him brightly.  “I had a good time today at the Carlson’s.”<br/>
<br/>
“Mmmm,” rumbles Jon on the other end monosyllabically.  You giggle again.  Monique enjoys simply being close to Jon, and hearing his voice brings up memories of the time the two have spent together.<br/>
<br/>
“I was thinking we could maybe hang out for a little while tomorrow,” you ask him hopefully.<br/>
<br/>
“Having trouble with your homework again,” he asks you with a gentle chuckle.<br/>
<br/>
“No,” you protest hotly.  “I managed it myself tonight.  It just clicked for me.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s good,” he replies, and with Monique’s mind you can easily picture him on the other end of the line grinning.  “We’ll have the day to ourselves.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” you agree dreamily.  The thought is appealing to Monique.  “Can I come round after lunch?”  He murmurs his agreement and the call comes to an end with mutual professions of love.  A more cynical part of you is relieved that they haven’t gotten to the ‘no you put he phone down first’ stage.<br/>
<br/>
You briefly wonder if that really happens.<br/>
<br/>
Monique’s persona demands your attention.  You should be glowing with happiness, it tells you, so you let a wide smile cover your face as you slide back out of the chair and pad across the floor barefoot.  You make your way downstairs to the lounge.  Monique’s mother is there, sitting on a sofa watching the television.  Angelique, Monique’s younger sister, lies beside her snoring gently.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m going to go to bed Mom,” you tell her, faking a yawn.<br/>
<br/>
“Did you get your homework down dear,” asks Monique’s mother, looking round at you.  It’s clear that she is the source of Monique’s looks.  She is as petite and pretty as her daughters.<br/>
<br/>
“Not all of it,” you lie.  You clasp your hands and hunch your shoulders forward a touch.  “I was going to go to Jonathan’s to get help tomorrow.  That’s ok?”<br/>
<br/>
She purses her lips a little.  Monique is a little too naïve to realise the way her parent’s feel about her relationship with Jon Straussler, you suspect.  The disapproval is obvious to you though.  “Of course honey,” says Monique’s mother after a moment.<br/>
<br/>
The Straussler’s wealth must make up for a lot of things, you think.<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks Mom,” you beam.  “Goodnight,” you add before half-skipping out of the room and up the stairs.  When you reach Monique’s bedroom you lock it quietly behind you.  The part of you that is channelling Monique’s personality expresses its puzzlement.  Monique wouldn’t lock the door to her room.  You push it to the side, banishing the sense of being her from your thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
The grin on your face probably looks a lot more wicked now.<br/>
<br/>
You pull aside the bed sheets and sit atop the bed cross-legged.  Then you slip your right hand under the pink pajama top you are wearing.  It creeps up your smooth stomach before coming to rest on one of your smallish boobs.<br/>
<br/>
“Ohhhh,” you moan quietly as you squeeze gently.  It feels so very good, and your other hand snakes downwards to the waistband of your pajama bottoms.  You let yourself fall back onto the bed and pull the covers tightly around you before switching off the bedside light.<br/>
<br/>
Your tender explorations keep you awake for some time.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
“There's my snookie-wookums," you dimple as you pull off the helmet and hang it on the handlebars of the moped.  Though Monique lives on the same side of town as Jonathan, his house is a little bit distant, so using some form of transport is preferable.  The moped isn’t ideal – and certainly not your idea of a good set of wheels - but Monique is too young to use a normal car.  <br/>
<br/>
A little stray Monique thought reminds you that she loves the moped:  To her it means the freedom to go anywhere in Saratoga Falls.  You dismiss the impulse, instead focusing on Jon.  You just need to get him alone somewhere to put the mask on him.<br/>
<br/>
Jonathan's eyes narrow. "I don't like 'snookie-wookums'," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't talking to you," you retort, and bed over to rub the head of his dog, who pants happily back and wags his tail.  You hug him, crooking your neck to look up and smile.<br/>
<br/>
“So what do you wanna do,” he grins back at you.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know,” you say airily.  “Maybe watch a movie or something?”  From Monique’s memories, you know that there is an elaborate home movie theater set up in part of the basement in the Straussler house.  It has a proper surround sound set up, and so is soundproofed from the rest of the building.  Dark and quiet:  Just perfect for getting that mask that Patterson wants.<br/>
<br/>
“Cool,” says Jon.  He slips an arm round your waist and guides you towards the house.  As you approach the door, Jon’s parents come out.<br/>
<br/>
Jon’s mother reacts to your presence first.  “Monique,” she beams, slipping away from her husband’s arm and coming over to you.  Like Monique’s mother, she is beautiful, but while your newly adopted mother is a natural beauty, Jon’s Mom has a sense of the manufactured to her.  Her skin seems just a little to tight, her lips seem just a little to plump and her breasts seem to ride just a little to high.  “Darling, how are you,” she says, reaching out with both hands.  You break away from Jon to great her, taking her hands with your own.  She leans down to air kiss you on each cheek.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m fine Mrs Straussler, thanks,” you say, letting Monique’s natural enthusiasm and kindness bubble forward.<br/>
<br/>
“Call me Natalie, please,” she adds before ruffling Jon’s hair.  He reacts a little sullenly.  “You take good care of Monique Jon, you hear that,” she tells her son, winking at you surreptitiously.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes Mom,” says Jon, rolling his eyes.  You nudge him cheekily and smile at him when he looks down at you.<br/>
<br/>
“And you still have that <i>darling </i>moped,” she continues, casting her gaze to where you parked Monique’s vehicle.<br/>
<br/>
“I’d really rather have a car Mrs Straussler,” you reply.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, I thought you went everywhere on it,” she tells you.<br/>
<br/>
“Um…  I do,” you answer, pulling Monique’s memories to you quickly.  “It’s really good and I enjoy the freedom.  I just don’t want to get so wet when it rains.”  You smile innocently at her.<br/>
<br/>
Natalie Straussler brays loudly at your response  “I’m sure you can always ask Jon for a lift,” she explains.  “Has he shown you his graduation present?”  You nod.  The Strausslers gave Jon a silver Porsche as an early graduation present.  “Come on Curt,” she calls behind her.  “We must get going.”<br/>
<br/>
Jon’s dad, Curt Straussler, turns his gaze on you.  If anything he’s taller than his son, and more heavily built.  Some of it is fat, but much more of it seems to be hard muscle.  You don’t know much about him, but Jon’s name for his father – the beast – seems more than appropriate.  His eyes bore through you for a moment and you shiver.<br/>
<br/>
Then he passes you and hooks his wife’s arm in his own.  You watch as a uniformed chauffeur drives an expensive looking car from round the back of the house.  It stops in front of the Strausslers, the chauffeur opens the doors for them and you and Jon wave them off as they leave.<br/>
<br/>
“Your dad gives me the creeps,” you tell Jon, pulling him close you.<br/>
<br/>
He rubs your back soothingly.  “Me too,” he admits.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221111
author_id: imaj
title: The Secrets of The Strausslers
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The little movie theater is  exactly what you were hoping for.  It really is like a proper one, with a wide screen taking up one side of the small room.  There are three rows of five seats, each of which is far plusher and more comfortable that the real ones would be.  You slip into the middle of the back row, sinking into the seat cushions and giggle girlishly.<br/>
<br/>
“Come here you,” you smirk at Jon in the half-dark of the room.<br/>
<br/>
“I have to put a film on first,” he tells you.  “What do you want to see?”<br/>
<br/>
“Put on something I’d like,” you reply opaquely.  Not that Monique’s taste in films appeals to you, but you know that light romantic comedies she favours bore Jon even more.  There is an angle there for you to utilise<br/>
<br/>
“Huh,” shrugs Jon.  He goes into the little side room that houses the projector nonetheless.  Lights flicker inside and after a few minutes a film starts on the screen.  Loudspeakers fill the room with music.<br/>
<br/>
Jon comes back out from the projection room, sitting himself next to you.  You gently sigh Monique’s content when he wraps and arm over your shoulders.  “I could get Consuela to make us some popcorn if you want.”<br/>
<br/>
You definitely don’t want.  The last thing you need is someone interrupting you in the middle of getting a mask of Jon.  However, you need a plausible enough lie…  “No,” you tell Jon.  “I don’t like people making noise when I’m watching a film,” you explain, wrinkling your nose.<br/>
<br/>
“”Like talking,” asks Jon wryly.<br/>
<br/>
“Like talking,” you confirm with a giggle.<br/>
<br/>
“Like you’re doing now,” he adds with mock seriousness.<br/>
<br/>
“I was gonna stop,” you protest.  “There’s something else I want to do.”  Jon makes a noncommittal grunting sound and you pull his face close to yours.  The kiss is slow and wary, as Monique is still hesitant about such things.  It warms you up though, sending pleasant tingles through your body.<br/>
<br/>
“That is better,” admits Jon as the kiss ends.  He puts and arm around you again and you lay your head on his broad chest as the film starts up.<br/>
<br/>
You sink into Monique’s personality, letting it rule your reactions.  The film is dull, but with Monique’s thoughts running through your head you laugh and cry as the melodrama plays out.  Every so often another gentle squeeze from Jon attracts you attention and you gaze up at him and dimple.<br/>
<br/>
About an hour in, you look up and note that Jon’s attention is finally flagging.  You have your purse in your lap, of course.  A blank mask lies within, and you slide the hand furthest from Jon inside to find it.  He doesn’t seem to notice the movement as you gently pull the mask free.<br/>
<br/>
You need a distraction first.  That’s easy though.  Holding the mask hidden at your side, you climb over your seat and on top of Jon.  His sleepy eyes brighten as you lean forward and kiss him.  But the kiss hides the movement of your hand, the one holding the mask.  It takes less than a second to place the mirrored concave oval on Jon’s face as your lips part.  His body slackens beneath you.<br/>
<br/>
With the deed done, you climb off Jon’s sleeping body and settle back into your seat.  Now all you need to do is wait.  Several minutes later, the mask pops back out of Jon’s face, the tell-tale glow of the lettering within alerting you to its presence.  You snatch the mask before it can fall to the floor, slipping it back inside your purse to conceal it.<br/>
<br/>
It takes a few minutes more before Jon shows signs of waking up.  You shake him gently by the shoulder.  “Jon,” you say softly.  “Jon.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thifsigle,” he moans.  “Mo...nique?”<br/>
<br/>
“I can’t believe you fell asleep,” you say, feigning schock.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m…  I’m sorry songbird,” he says, wakefulness slowly coming to him, his eyes narrowing warily.  “I guess this isn’t my kind of film.”  You pout at him.  It must look adorable, for his expression melts in an instant.  “It doesn’t matter though, not as long as I’m watching it with you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Aw Jon,” you dimple.  “You say the sweetest things.”<br/>
<br/>
His arm falls around you one more time and you snuggle in close to him.  You keep all traces of what you have just done from the Monique persona within you and concentrate on how he makes her feel.  It is almost as if you purr as he rubs at your shoulder.  You climb back on top of him again, but this time you make the kiss last longer.  Monique’s feelings are like a cloak:  Something to wrap yourself and hide in.  You let Monique guide your reaction as his touch wanders your body.  He never doubts your identity for a second.<br/>
<br/>
You don’t really see much of the second half of the film.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
It is dark outside when you re-emerge from the theater in the basement.  One movie segued into another, although in truth you did not watch that one much either.  The afternoon make out session didn’t progress much beyond kissing and touching.  That was more than enough for Monique though, and certainly more than enough for you.  You let her glowing happiness shine through as Jon guides you up the stair, a comforting hand holding your waist.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh no,” you wail as you look out the windows and into the darkness.  “Mom and Dad are going to be mad.”<br/>
<br/>
“You could stay for dinner,” says Jon hopefully.  “Phone your folks and say you’re going to eat with us.”<br/>
<br/>
You bite your lip nervously.  Monique’s mind tells you that it is a very tempting offer, one that she would be sorely pressed to refuse.  On the other hand though, you have what you came for.  The mask could be in Patterson’s hands by this evening.  Surely that would impress him?  “I really should go,” you tell Jon.<br/>
<br/>
“Are you sure,” he pleads.  You nod though, and he continues guiding you through the vastness of the Straussler home until you reach the hall at the entrance.  You aren’t alone when you arrive.<br/>
<br/>
Jon’s parents are back from wherever they have been.  Jon hesitates as he sees them, pulling you back a little till you both stand in one of the doorways of the hall.  You look at him in puzzlement.  His expression seems sad, but he says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
There is shouting from the hall and you look back inside.  Natalie Straussler pulls herself away from her husband, stumbling as she does so.  There is a crack as one of her stiletto heels breaks and she falls to one knee.  Her dress rides up and she yelps in pain.  Only then do you see that her makeup has run, as if she has been crying.  She struggles to loosen her shoes, taking them off awkwardly before lifting herself to her feet, all while Curt Straussler does nothing but stare impassively.<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck you Curt,” shouts Jon’s mom shrilly.  She throws one shoe at Curt Straussler.  He doesn’t flinch as it bounces of his chest.  “Fuck you,” she adds as she launches the second shoe half-heartedly.  It falls short of Curt.  Then she turns about and flounces up the stairs.  The effect is ruined as she stumbles on the stairs and ends up clinging to the banister to help stay upright.<br/>
<br/>
You look up to Jon, opening your mouth to ask what is going on.  He places one finger over your lips to shush you.<br/>
<br/>
“Come on out Jonathan,” calls Curt Straussler from within the hall.  Jon grimaces.  You feel his grasp on your waist tighten as you walk into the Hall together.  “I’m sorry you had to see that Monique,” he tells you, his voice tinged with only the barest of hints of sadness.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry too Mr Straussler,” you reply, not really sure what to say.  Monique’s own family isn’t like this at all and the scene has left her personality confused.<br/>
<br/>
“Perhaps it’s best if you go home,” adds Jon’s dad, his eyes seem cold and dead.  You nod meekly.  “It’s dark out, you’ll be able to manage home in your car?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes Mr Straussler,” you answer quickly, keen to get out of the house as fast as possible.  “I mean, on my moped,” you say after a moments thought.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, of course, sorry,” says Curt Straussler.  He smiles at you, but it is an odd smile:  Like someone who had seen a picture of a smile once and tried to copy it without understanding the intent behind it.  He walks over to you, still smiling that non-smile.<br/>
<br/>
Jon’s grasp weakens as his father approaches, until you feel his hand slip away entirely.  You feel for Jon’s hand as Curt Straussler closes, clasping it in your own.  It feels cold and clammy.<br/>
<br/>
“Well,” says Curt.  He’s standing in front of you now.  He places one hand firmly on your shoulder.  “Well…”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re hurting me,” you whine, suddenly very, very afraid.<br/>
<br/>
Curt Straussler moves quickly, his other hand pulling something metallic from his pocket.  He presses the foreign object against your forehead.  An odd, reverberating sound fills the room, leaving you feeling strangely dizzy.  <br/>
<br/>
The room seems to shrink, but it isn’t shrinking you realise.  It is you that is growing.  Monique’s clothes rip and tear as your own lanky body seems to emerge from them somehow.  Too late you realise that the mask of Monique Travers is falling away from your face, the glow of the inside of the mask disappearing out of reach.<br/>
<br/>
“What the…” you begin to say.  It is your own voice that you hear, not the girlish one that you have used for the last day or so.  The dizziness increases.  The room slowly starts to wobble and then spin.<br/>
<br/>
Everything fades into darkness.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122211111
author_id: imaj
title: The Technician
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You wake up.<br/>
<br/>
You think you wake up.  It’s impossible to tell, your surrounding are entirely dark and you cannot see a thing.  Your other senses feed you details:  A low constant buzzing sound is on the edge of your hearing.  The floor feels cold and hard and you have  cricks in your neck and back.  You can smell nothing but your own stale sweat.<br/>
<br/>
Time passes, impossible to measure.  You have nothing but your own thoughts for company and they make for dull companions.  <i>You’ve really fucked this up.  How are you going to get out?  Patterson is going to be pissed</i>.  They circle through your head until you close your eyes – again, you think you close your eyes, but how can you tell – and try to sleep again.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The door to the room cracks open with a hiss and light floods in.  You draw your knees to your chest and try to shield your eyes with a rags clad arm.  They seem to be all that remains of Monique’s clothes.<br/>
<br/>
Two figures enter, little more than shapes outlined against the door.  They say nothing, giving you a chance to acclimatise to the sudden brightness.  It take maybe a minute or so, but eventually you are able to withdraw your arm and focus on the two in front of you.<br/>
<br/>
The first is Curt Strassler, now dressed in a sharp business suit.  He doesn’t really look at you, but instead fixes on a spot just above your head.  You don’t recognise the other man though, a fat Asian clad in clad in cheap jeans and a ratty tee that pronounces ‘Han shot first’.  They make for an odder pair, and odder still is that the Asian seems to recognise you.<br/>
<br/>
“You come to my shop sometimes, don’t you,” he asks, suddenly grinning.  “Hang out with Christian and his friends sometimes.”  He cocks his head quizzically.  “Don’t tell me, I’ll get it.”  He chews on his lip thoughtfully.  “Ah, I can’t.  You know <i>me </i>though, don’t you?”  You don’t reply, partially because you can’t remember who this man is, but mostly because the sheer oddity of the situation has left you speechless.  “Eric,” he says, sounding a little hurt now.  “From King Kong Comics?”<br/>
<br/>
You do know the shop: a dilapidated little comic and gaming place in Saratoga Falls, and now that you remember that, you remember Eric as well – the hopeless proprietor that wants to be friends with his customers.  You went a lot when you were younger, less so as you reached your senior year.  Eric always left you wondering how he could stay in business.<br/>
<br/>
He keeps looking at you expectantly.  You guess he wants your name now.  “Will,” you say huskily through dry lips.  “Will Prescott.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s it,” grins Eric. To your surprise he stretches out his hand towards you.  You grasp it numbly and he shakes your hand vigorously.  He grins a bit more before finally letting you go, leaving you to blink in stupefaction.  “Curt,” he says cheerfully, turning back to Straussler Senior and holding out his hand.<br/>
<br/>
Curt Straussler passes something to Eric.  The flash of silvery metal as it changes hands makes it instantly identifiable:  It’s a mask.  Eric makes a show of examining it though.  The glow it gives off pools on his features, somehow making them more sinister.<br/>
<br/>
“Monique, huh,” he says, grinning at you.<br/>
<br/>
“He looked just like her,” scowls Curt, intent on making his unhappiness clear.  It leaves you wondering just what the relationship between these two is that Eric can be so cheeky with Curt.  “Sounded just like her.  Knew everything she did.  If he hadn’t slipped up about driving…”  Curt tails of and glowers at you again.  “He had a mask of my son in her purse.  <i>My son</i> Kim!”<br/>
<br/>
Eric Kim’s eyes flicker in Curt’s direction, but he says nothing.  Instead he fixes them back on you.  “So tell me Will,” he asks, still sounding friendly.  “How does this work.”<br/>
<br/>
You say nothing.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s not one of your Fane toys is it,” Curt interrupts demandingly.  “Like the… uh…”<br/>
<br/>
“Like the <i>dissuo</i>,” laughs Eric.  “No, not at all.  I’m surprised the <i>dissuo </i>even worked on something like this,” he continues, lifting the mask up to indicate it.  “No, this looks something <i>special</i>.  I’m pretty sure this isn’t one of ours at all.  I have to wonder where <i>you </i>got it Will.”  He cocks his head to the side quizzically again.  “Cat got your tongue.”  Still you say nothing.  “The real question though,” he continues, all trace of bonhomie disappearing from his voice suddenly.  “The real question is, if you were pretending to be Monique who was pretending to be you?”<br/>
<br/>
You look down at the floor, unwilling to say a thing.  “Get him some clothes Curt,” you hear Eric saying.<br/>
<br/>
However impossible it seems, your situation has gotten worse…<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Your new prison has lights at least, that’s the only point you can say in its favour.<br/>
<br/>
It was an uncomfortable ride over.  Curt returned to the little room that you had been locked up in with a pair of jeans and a shirt.  They were too big for you, and you suspect they might have belonged to Jon, but you were grateful at least for the chance to finally cover up.  Curt had also returned with a pair of heavy set goons, bigger and wider than himself.  They’d watched you impassively through dark glasses, their faces betraying nothing.<br/>
<br/>
They’d taken you by the arms once you’d dressed, one on each side of you with a massive slab of a hand gripping your upper arm.  You’d almost yelped in pain at the tightness of the grip.  They hadn’t relented, not whilst they had you pinned between them in the back of Curt Straussler’s BMW, not whilst they had dragged you in through the back door of King Kong Comics.<br/>
<br/>
When you were younger, you’d have given anything to get in the stockroom there.  You’d always supposed it was full of rare comic editions and special splatbooks that you hadn’t seen – a treasure trove for your younger and geekish self.  It turned out to be a room full of dusty cardboard boxes.<br/>
<br/>
Eric had pushed a bunch of them aside to reveal a hidden door set into one wall.  “Essentials,” he had told you.  “No one wants to buy that shit.”  Then you had been pushed inside the room.<br/>
<br/>
Your new prison has lights, it’s true, but that just means you can see inside it.  Every surface, the floor, the walls and the roof are sheaved in metal.  You don’t understand why, but the reddish brown stains that gather at the cracks between the plates hint at horrors you do not want to learn about.  More obvious are the electrodes that hang loosely from an odd looking machine in one corner.  You <i>definitely </i>don’t want to know about that.<br/>
<br/>
The door to the room opens again and a slim figure is pushed in by one of Straussler’s goons.  It’s you, Will Prescott, or rather the golem left in your place by Patterson.  “Whoa, dude,” he exclaims as he sees you.<br/>
<br/>
Eric follows in behind him, with Straussler’s goon squad taking up position on either side of him.  “I take it you two know each other,” he says, grinning again.  That friendliness is back again, but now you’ve seen this room you believe it is entirely faked.  He snaps his fingers as the two goons withdraw  “Let’s have a little fun,” he says with an evil looking grin as they leave him alone with you.  You glance at those electrodes again, suddenly aware that the goons are, if anything, less dangerous than Eric.<br/>
<br/>
However, a bell rings in the distance, from the front of the shop.  “Fuck,” he says sourly.  “I’ll be right back.  You two…”  He hesitates for a moment.  “You two get your stories straight.  It’ll be more fun tearing them apart that way.”  His last grin is the most unpleasant of all.<br/>
<br/>
Then you are alone in the cell with your doppelganger.  It eyes you awkwardly.  The golem is under Patterson’s control, you remember.  You doubt it will help you here.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222111111
author_id: imaj
title: Methods of Torture
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“What’s going on,” whines your double.<br/>
<br/>
“Just…” you say with resignation.  “Just shut up.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re not the boss of me,” whines the golem.  “Patterson says…”  But you ignore it, putting your hands on your ears to muffle the tide of complaints.  <i>Do I really sound like that</i>, you wonder.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens several minutes later and Eric returns.  He chuckles unpleasantly as his gaze roves between you and your duplicate.  “You didn’t switch clothes on me did you?”<br/>
<br/>
“No,” says the golem, the words bursting out.  You put your head in your hands.<br/>
<br/>
Eric shakes his head.  “Pity,” he sighs.  “Would have been a classic move.  More fun for us all round,” he explains, grinning psychotically.  “That’s the problem with young people today, no appreciation for style.  Oh well.”  He paces about the room before squatting in front of the golem.  “So you're another Will Prescott. This one here…" He cocks his head at you. "He was wearing a mask that made him look like a girl. I don't think he's one of a set of twins, so if that's his real face, you must also be wearing a mask, one that makes you look like--"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know what you're talking about," your twin says bluntly.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, ho ho,” laughs Eric.  He puts one hand on your double’s shoulder, resting the other on the side of its stomach  “I'm so glad you said that. Say it again."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know… Gyaahhhh!" The golem convulses in agony, its face twisted up so far as to be almost unrecognisable.  You watch in horror as it collapses against on of the metal walls with a ringing sound.  Eric follows him, a gloating smile on his face. "I don't… Aaaiiigghhhh! Yes, okay, I'm wearing a mask!"<br/>
<br/>
“Take it off for me,” grins Eric, hauling the golem back to its feet with surprising ease.  He positions his hands on the golem, ready to go again.  You duplicate freezes, its face white, straw like hair matted to its brow.  “Take it off…”<br/>
<br/>
The golem rolls away screaming again, but Eric doesn’t seem interested.  He’s looking at you, grinning again.  That maddening, crazy grin.  He walks back to where the golem has fallen, never taking his eyes off you.<br/>
<br/>
You can’t take it, watching someone that looks just like yourself having pain inflicted on them in such a way.  Eric can tell it too, you’re sure.  He pauses long enough to grin at you one more time and…<br/>
<br/>
“He can’t,” you shout.  “He can’t take it off, it’s only a golem.  Monique’s under there,” you add desperately.  “Straussler won’t want her hurt.”<br/>
<br/>
Eric pulls his hands away from the golem and laughs.  “I think you’d be surprised at what Curt Straussler wants and doesn’t want.  So <i>this </i>Will can’t take his mask off,” says Eric, getting up and walking towards you.  “But I bet <i>you </i>can.”  He kneels beside you and places his hands on your shoulder and side, just like he did with the golem.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll do it,” you yell at him.  “I’ll  gyaaaahhhh!”  Every nerve in your body screams. You do too. And he doesn't let up until you've gasped out everything you know: About masks, Arnholm's Used Bookstore and the <i>Libra</i>.   And everything about Patterson and the little team he has formed too.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You dimly struggle back into consciousness, roused by the sound of the door opening.  Your bones feel as if they have been pounded into jelly.  It is only small, almost flopping, movements that you are able to make as Eric returns to the room.  You have no idea how long it has been seen he left you here, after extracting every last piece of knowledge from you.<br/>
<br/>
It is the golem that attracts his attention though.  It seems in a similar state to you, and lies loosely propped up against the wall opposite.  He kneels beside it and takes hold of it by the chin.  Then Eric whispers something in its ear.  You are too numb to muster any shock as the mask comes away from the golem.  He must have learnt the word to remove a mask when he was interrogating you, though your memories of exactly what happened are fuzzy.<br/>
<br/>
Monique now lies where the golem did, her eyes fluttering.  You wonder if she felt the effects of Eric’s torture of the golem, or if the mask protected her from it.  Either way, you’ll find out in a minute.  Eric stands back up, fiddling in his pocket for something.  He pulls out something that looks like a flashlight, adjusting a few dials on it as he waits.<br/>
<br/>
After a minute or so, Monique wakes up.  “Wh…Where am I,” she stutters in a frightened voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Hush,” says Eric in a surprisingly gentle voice.  “You’re safe now.  I’m a friend of Jon’s dad.  What’s the last thing you remember?”<br/>
<br/>
Monique’s eyes flicker round the room, taking in the details.  It’s clear that she doesn’t believe him.  “How did I get here,” she asks in a small voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Somewhere safe.  What’s the last thing you remember,” he asks again, this time more insistently.<br/>
<br/>
“I was…” she licks her lips nervously.  “I was at Westside High School, talking to Kendra Saunders.”  Her eyes go wide and her voice rises in pitch.  “There was someone there who looked just like me!”<br/>
<br/>
“It all sorted now,” says Eric.  He makes a couple of adjustments to the flashlight like thing before offering Monique his hand to help her up.  She hesitates for a moment before accepting.  Your outsized pants almost fall off her as she stands up with Eric’s assistance and she has to grasp the waistband in one hand.  “Tell me Monique,” asks Eric with a grin.  “Have you ever seen <i>Men in Black</i>?”<br/>
<br/>
Monique looks puzzled for a second.  You were inside her head before, you remember what kinds of films she likes, and that wouldn’t be one of them.  “No,” she says quietly.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” says Eric, he turns to face you for a moment.  “Well I bet Will has, haven’t you.”  He winks theatrically at you.  He holds up the flashlight like device and grins again.  “Come with me.  I’ll get you home.”<br/>
<br/>
He guides a stumbling Monique through the doorway and it closes behind them.  You hear a whirring noise, and then see the ghost of a flash through the crack in the bottom of the doorway.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Maybe an hour passes before Eric returns.  In that time you have done little more than stare at the walls, able to little more than twitch your arms and legs.  Feeling is slowly returning to them as Eric walks in, carrying a tray in both hands.  He sets it down beside you, revealing a sandwich and a bottle of soda.<br/>
<br/>
“I flensed her, erased her memories of what you did to her” he explains to you, sitting down on the floor.  “Monique is such a sweet kid, she doesn’t deserve to be mixed up in all this.  She’s missing a day though, and I don’t think her folks are the kind to roll over when Curt Straussler comes brandishing his chequebook.”<br/>
<br/>
You moan incoherently, it’s all you can manage.<br/>
<br/>
Eric grins at you.  “Still, what do you think is going to happen when they work out whose clothes she’s been found in?”  You blink in confusion.  Monique was wearing your clothes, she’d been put under a golem mask of you.  “Sucks to be you,” he grins.  “Enjoy your meal.”  With that he gets up and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
You take a look at what he’s left for you.  It’s wrapped up in cardboard packaging.  The expiration date reads two months ago.   You wonder if eating it will kill you.  It’s certainly a better way out than any of the other options.  With Monique in your clothes, you are going to be the one catches the blame for her mysterious disappearance for a day.<br/>
<br/>
You roll over onto one side, your limbs finally showing signs of wanting to respond.  As you crawl slowly to a corner of the room to curl up in, something attracts you attention:  Eric hasn’t closed the door properly.  A slim crack at the side reveals a slice of the stockroom beyond.<br/>
<br/>
You change direction, heading towards the door.  You aren’t moving fast, but if you get lucky, if Eric doesn’t check on you for a few hours, you might be able to make good your escape.<br/>
<br/>
But then what?  Eric’s made clear that the cops are going to be looking for you sooner rather than later.  Sure you could escape the comic book store, but how long would you last outside.  It might be easier to just give up and let whatever Eric has planned for you happen to you.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221111112
author_id: imaj
title: Dead Man Walking
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You are woken by a faint nudging under your ribs.  You moan in protest, reaching dumbly for the bedcovers to wrap yourself up and go back to sleep.<br/>
<br/>
There aren’t any, only the cold hard floor.<br/>
<br/>
You remember where you are, the little prison cell in the back of the comic shop.  As your eyes flicker open you see a pair of grubby sneakers attached to some worn looking jeans.  You glance upwards – it’s Eric.  He nudges you again gently with his foot.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m awake,” you mumble<br/>
<br/>
“I’m surprised you didn’t make a break for it,” he says beaming back down at you.  “You know I left the door open last night.”<br/>
<br/>
“Would it have made a difference,” you reply sourly.  “You made it pretty clear that I’m going to be framed for Monique’s disappearance.”<br/>
<br/>
Eric grins at you again.  “I know, it’s all pretty neat huh.  Well, maybe not for you.”  You flinch as he kneels down beside you and places his hands on you.  “Relax dude,” he says, lifting the hands away again.  “I’m not going to hurt you this time.”<br/>
<br/>
You eye him warily.  His words don’t match up with what he did to you yesterday.<br/>
<br/>
“It only felt like it hurt,” says Eric reproachfully.  “That’s my training, you see.  I can make you hurt, really <i>hurt</i>, but it doesn’t do any lasting damage.”<br/>
<br/>
“I can barely move,” you say venomously.<br/>
<br/>
“Dude, too harsh,” he answers, holding his hands up.  “That’ll fade within hours.  Quicker if you let me help you.”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t think I’d be able to stop you,” you tell him.  He grins a little at that and places his hands back on you.  The sensation that passes through is similar to the one from yesterday, just not as intense.  Instead of feeling like you are on fire, you merely feel a soothing warmth.  You sigh contentedly as it suffuses deep into your body.  “Why are you doing this,” you ask once Eric withdraws his hands and the warmth starts to fade.  “Hurting me one day and healing me the next?”<br/>
<br/>
“Could be to make torturing you again later on more effective,” grins Eric maniacally.  Your face drains of blood and Eric bursts out into laughter.  “Nah, I’m fucking with you Will.  Still waiting on word about what to do with you, got to keep you in good condition till then.”<br/>
<br/>
“From Curt Straussler,” you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Eric laughs.  “He’s not my boss.”<br/>
<br/>
No, he wouldn’t be.  You remember the way Eric talked to Curt when the pair met you in your first prison.  It wasn’t the way someone talks to their boss.  You also remember one of the words Curt used then.  “Is it Fane,” you ask.  “Straussler said something about your Fane toys.”<br/>
<br/>
Eric looks genuinely impressed for a moment.  “You were listening closely, weren’t you,” he asks.  “I can’t say who I work for, not without a little coercion at least.”  That grin again.  “It would be unprofessional.”  Eric stands back up and massages his hands together.<br/>
<br/>
“What now then,” you ask, sitting upright.  The last traces of the numbness are gone and you can move easily now.<br/>
<br/>
“Well now I’m going to leave you here for a couple of days while I roll up the little team you’re part of,” explains Eric.  “You’ve made a big mess and I’m going to clear it up.  Going to be quite a lot of flensings by the time I’m done,” he sighs.  “I’m going to have to blame it on those douches at Fort Suffolk.”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re just telling me this,” you ask, slightly incredulously.<br/>
<br/>
“I know,” he grins.  “I’m spending too much time with Christian and his friends.  It’s like one of the first evil overlord rules: don’t explain the plan.  Ah I can flense you too if I need to.”  He walks to the door.<br/>
<br/>
“Can you at least get me some food that I can eat,” you ask his retreating back.<br/>
<br/>
He stops for a second, but doesn’t turn around.  “I’ll see what I can do.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You don’t see much of Eric again for a while and you assume he’s busy tracking down Patterson, Black and Lynch, as well as Caleb and Keith.  He knows all about them, or at least as much as you do thanks to his interrogation of you.  Patterson won’t be pleased if he learns what you told Eric.  You doubt he could resist any better.  He’ll probably find that out the hard way for himself soon enough.<br/>
<br/>
You can’t really measure the passage of time properly in the little cell.  There’s no window to see the cycle of night and day, and the only sense of rhythm is the couple of times Eric brings you food.  It’s edible this time at least, and you wolf it down.  Maybe two days have passed since you were brought to King Kong Comics when Eric returns again.<br/>
<br/>
This time is different though, as one of the sunglass wearing heavies comes in with him.  “Up you get,” Eric tells you.  You don’t move though, just slouch in your corner of the room.  <br/>
<br/>
Eric nods at the goon, who steps forward and hoists you over his shoulder.  You are in no condition to resist, and the goon’s grip is crushingly strong.  He carries you out through the back door of the shop and bundles you into the back seat of a large black SUV with tinted windows.  Eric jumps in the driver’s seat as the goon climbs in beside you.<br/>
<br/>
“Where are we going,” you ask through dry lips.<br/>
<br/>
“Just for a little drive,” answers Eric.  You see him grin in the rear view mirror.  Panic creeps over you.  This is it, they’re going to kill you and dump your body in the backwoods somewhere.  You make a strangulated little yelping sound.  “Keep it down back there,” says Eric.  “I’m trying to drive.”<br/>
<br/>
The SUV doesn’t leave town though, it winds its way back to one of the richer neighbourhoods.  That’s almost worse, because you soon realise that Eric is heading over to the Straussler house.  Sure enough, Eric eventually turns the SUV into the drive leading up through the grounds of the Straussler’s.<br/>
<br/>
Curt Straussler is waiting for you there.<br/>
<br/>
He’s standing outside the entrance to the hours, his arms folded.  Two more goons are near him, flanking a guy kneeling on the ground.  Only when the SUV pulls up in front of the house do you see who it is:  Patterson.  You feel a moment of sympathy for him.  As badly as you’ve been treated over the last couple of days, it looks like he’s had it worse.  His face is a map of bruises and cuts.  One eye is swollen and painful looking.  The heavy in backseat with you steps out of the SUV as it stops.  Eric, though, merely rolls down the window.<br/>
<br/>
“Kim,” says Curt Straussler brusquely.  He stares daggers at you through the open door.  “These are the last two of them then?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” replies Eric airly.  “I’ve…  uh… removed the memories of the rest of them.  Same for some of the victims.  One of our media sources is going to pin the blame for the sudden outbreak of amnesia onto the research base at Fort Suffolk.  Play your cards right and it could mean another fat contract for Protean.”<br/>
<br/>
“That’s something, I suppose,” replies Straussler unhappily.  “These two are the ringleaders though,” he adds venomously.  “The ones that came after my family directly.”<br/>
<br/>
“I guess,” nods Eric.<br/>
<br/>
“Forgetting about what they’ve done is too good for them,” snarls Straussler.  “I want them to answer for what they’ve done.  I want them dealt with appropriately, that’s my condition for handing over the book.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you sure about this Curt,” asks answers Eric, his voice suddenly very serious.  “This is your big chance for us to owe <i>you </i>a favour.  Do you want to throw it away to get some petty revenge on a couple of worthless kids?”<br/>
<br/>
Straussler sticks his jaw out.  “I do.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ok, deal,” says Eric, his voice suddenly all smiles and happiness again.  “You give us the book, we’ll deal with these two <i>appropriately</i>.”  The emphasis on the last word makes you shudder in your seat.  You watch helplessly as Eric climbs out of the SUV and takes a large black briefcase from Straussler.  Large enough to hold the book, you note.  <br/>
<br/>
Eric’s goon – and now that he’s standing beside Straussler’s goons you can notice there are some subtle differences in the cuts of their suits and the shapes of their glasses – hauls Patterson roughly to his feet and shoves him in the backseat of the SUV beside you.  Patterson turns stiffly round to look at you with his one unhurt eye.  “Not a fuckin’ word Prescott,” he rasps hoarsely.  You spot that his hands and feet are bound together by loops of plastic.<br/>
<br/>
Eric pops the trunk open and stuffs the case in there.  “Pleasure doing business with you,” he says cheerily to Straussler as he closes the trunk again.  Straussler doesn’t reply.  He nods slightly, then he and his goons turn round and head back inside the house.  Eric and his guard climb inside the SUV and you are off again.<br/>
<br/>
You don’t say anything as the ride takes you out of Saratoga Falls and onto the highway.  Eric proceeds for about an hour or so at full speed before turning off onto a back road.  The twisting road slows the SUV right down.  A last desperate idea forms in your head.  Patterson’s hands might be tied, but yours aren’t.  You could jump out of the SUV.  It isn’t moving that fast, and a few broken bones are still an improvement on letting Eric deal with you appropriately.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever the hell that means…<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122211111122
author_id: imaj
title: In Which You Get What You Deserve
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You sigh.  You had your chance days ago, when Eric left the door to your cell open.  It’s too late now, all you can do is just wait patiently and face whatever fate awaits you with dignity.  You stare out the window as the SUV passes through a small copse of trees, then the road straightens out again and Eric picks up speed again.<br/>
<br/>
A short while after that, the SUV makes one final turn, passing through an open chain link gate.  A faded billboard to one side of the gate tells you that you have entered Reed Meadows Private Airfield.  You even see a rusty old hangar in the distance.  Eric slows down again, taking the SUV off the road and onto the dusty ground.  Above you, you can hear a droning sound and you press your face against the window to look.  A small private jet is coming in to land.<br/>
<br/>
The plane gets closer and closer as you approach the runway.  As it touches down, Eric steers the SUV to run parallel to it.  The bumpy ride of the last couple of minutes giving way to something smoother as he crosses onto the runway.  He keeps the SUV up with the plane, accelerating to match it speed, then slowly coasting down to a halt as it breaks.  The plane comes to a halt at the far end of the runway, only a handful of metres away from the SUV’s stopping place.<br/>
<br/>
Eric and the goon climb out of the SUV.  The sound of the turbine slowly winding down can be heard through the open doors.  While Eric heads to the plane, the goon opens the back door and hauls first you and then Patterson out.  He shoves the pair of you towards the plane, stopping only to pick up Patterson as he stumbles.  The door to the plane opens, but your attention is focussed solely on the goon.  He reaches inside his suit and pulls out a pocket knife, flicking it open and pointing it straight at Patterson.  Then he does something surprising.<br/>
<br/>
He cuts Patterson’s bonds.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson blinks a couple of times, he can’t quite believe it.  He opens his mouth, but then thinks better of it.  You follow his gaze, looking to see what has caught his attention.<br/>
<br/>
And elderly man is stepping down from the plane.  His face – no, his whole body – is thin to the point of gaunt and his hair silvery and sparse.  Despite that there is a studied neatness to him.  An expensive looking dark suit with very narrow silver stripes and a woollen coat that reaches to his knees give the impression of power and wealth, albeit an old world sort of power and wealth.  One that you’ve seen in the movies.<br/>
<br/>
“Good afternoon Mr Patterson, Mr Prescott,” he says.  His voice is clear over the slowly winding down engines on the plane.  It is very clear and distinct, and very, very British.  “My name is Hyde-White and I am so very pleased to finally make your acquaintances.”<br/>
<br/>
You glance at Patterson.  He glances back at you.  There’s something in his eye that you haven’t seen before:  Uncertainty.  “Yeah,” growls Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“Indeed,” replies Hyde-White, smiling thinly.  “I know this must seem like a kidnapping to all intents and purposes, and for that I must apologise.  However, let me assure you that this is not the case.  In fact, you are quite free to go gentlemen.”<br/>
<br/>
“That so,” says Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes.  Of course, there is the matter of Mr Straussler, who has in a rather roundabout way intimated that he wishes you dead.  And for Mr Prescott there are some officers of the law who would quite like you to help them with their inquiries.”  He pulls a cell phone from his pocket.  “As an upstanding visitor to your country I would be morally bound to inform them of your whereabouts.”  Your shoulders sink, defeated.<br/>
<br/>
“You done threatening us,” answers Patterson defiantly.  You stare at your feet.  A week ago, you would have been overjoyed for Patterson to describe you as ‘us’.  Today you feel as if he is teetering on the edge of a precipice. <br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White puts his cell phone away.  “My associate Mr Kim has informed me that Mr Straussler has been a little too cautious in expressing his desires for what we are to do with you.  That is understandable, I suppose, in that it means he can honestly say that he did not have you killed, but it does give us a little leeway here.”  He pauses briefly to smile at you.  This time his teeth show, gleaming and white.  “When we find people with your talents, the <i>appropriate </i>thing to do is to offer them a job, and a lucrative and well paid one at that.”<br/>
<br/>
That catches you attention.  You look back up, turning to see what Patterson’s reaction is.  He seems as shocked as you are.  “Our talents,” he echoes, disbelievingly.<br/>
<br/>
“Quite,” nods Hyde-White.  “Consider this Mr Patterson:  According to Mr Kim’s report, you welded together a team of somewhat disparate individuals.  In fact, I understand many of them despised each other, yet you still got them to work together.  Your motivational skills were very effective.”<br/>
<br/>
“I just leant on a couple of the losers,” says Patterson, his confusion evident.  “That’s all.”<br/>
<br/>
“What you have, Mr Patterson, is <i>potential</i>,” counters Hyde-White.  “Rough, and undeveloped, yet there is a gem under waiting to be cut and polished.  Fane is going to offer you that opportunity Mr Patterson:  A place in our junior management training program.  Is that of interest to you, Mr Patterson?”<br/>
<br/>
You look at Patterson again.  He is uncharacteristically thoughtful looking.  After a few moments he nods tersely.  “Yeah.”<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White takes a step to the side.  “Then all you need is step on board, and we shall whisk you away to your new life.”  Patterson nods once more.  He stumbles a little at first, then walks awkwardly inside the plane.<br/>
<br/>
“What about me,” you say in a quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
“Your talent, Mr Prescott, is something quite singular,” says Hyde-White, turning his smile on you.  “You have a knack for being other people.  You infiltrated other lives and made them your own, leaving none any the wiser.”<br/>
<br/>
You shrug.  “It was easy with the book,” you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
“Hmmm, I shall come to the book in a second,” he answers, waving his hand at Eric.  Eric scurries back to the trunk of the SUV.  “Mr Kim’s report makes it clear you were by far the most effective of your colleagues in emulating another individual.  You might have had access to their memories thanks to the <i>Libra Personae</i>, but it takes skill to ride their personality so flawlessly.  That is a skill Fane can put to good use, perhaps in a way that no one else can.”<br/>
<br/>
“Who are Fane,” you ask.  “I keep hearing the name.”<br/>
<br/>
“What is Fane, you mean,” Hyde-White answers.  “It is rather a complicated subject, for it is rather a complicated object, or set of objects. It is an interlocking group of cooperative enterprises, some of a public nature, some of a private; some corporate and economic, others charitable or educational. We call it, collectively, 'Fane', for they all share the same general purpose, interest and intent…" A shadow of amusement briefly passes over his face. "But you will find a wide variety of enterprises that share the Fane name, though little else. At least, nothing apparent to the cursory, curious eye."<br/>
<br/>
You frown, for the answer tells you nothing.<br/>
<br/>
“And who are Fane,” he continues.  “Well Fane is me,” he explains pointing to himself, he gestures at Eric, who is returning from the SUV with the case that contains the book.  “Fane is Mr Kim, and Fane is your friend Mr Patterson too.  It is my dearest hope that you join us as well.”  <br/>
<br/>
“I don’t have a choice do I,” you sigh with resignation.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White looks offended by the question.  “You always have a choice Mr Prescott.”  He takes the case and beams at Eric.  “But you have a chance to be part of something historic here.”  He flips open the case and his eyes gleam as he peers inside.  “The <i>Libra </i>is quite priceless, and the things that it can <i>teach </i>us.”  He sighs, and the odd contentment to his voice is possibly the creepiest thing you have ever heard.  “Take the offer Mr Prescott, and you will take part in events that make the last week look nothing more than childish fripperies.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson pops his head round the door.  “Yo Prescott,” he shouts.  “You coming inside this thing.  It’s fuckin’ sweet.”  He ducks back inside the plane.  <br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White smiles at you.  It isn’t the gleaming smile of earlier, but something wry and subtle.  He gestures one last time at plane entrance.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222111111221
author_id: imaj
title: The Boys In The Tower
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You hesitate for a moment, but only a brief one.  Then you step towards the plane.  Hyde-White stops you as you pass, and offers you his hand.  Now that you’re close, you see that his fingers seem bony and fleshless.  Almost colourless skin is pulled tightly about his face, so much so that you would swear you could see the outline of his skull.  Sunken eyes regard you dully.<br/>
<br/>
You hesitate again.  Hyde-White seems like a lifeless thing, and for all his protestations of you having choices, you have been forced into the course of action.  But then you catch sigh of the case containing the book again.  It’s been fun, and Hyde-White has all but said you will be using it secrets again soon enough.<br/>
<br/>
So you take his hand.  It is cold, but his grip is firm.  He pumps your hand enthusiastically and smiles again.  Even this close, his teeth are still perfect.  “Welcome to Fane Mr Prescott,” he tells you.<br/>
<br/>
You step onto the plane.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Dawn is breaking over London as you step up to the window.  It’s plate glass and runs the entire length of one of the walls in the apartment Hyde-White has lodged you in for the past couple of days.  The apartment itself is part of a small complex in an office tower held by a Fane subsidiary.  Supposedly it’s for high ranking guests and VIPs when they visit, but the exit has remained firmly locked except for when you’ve ordered food.<br/>
<br/>
That the view is magnificent is a small consolation.  You are right at the top of the tower here, and your apartment faces west towards the city centre.  A good number of landmarks are clearly visible, or would be if it wasn’t raining heavily.  You pad away from the window, clad only in the linen pajamas that Fane have left for you.<br/>
<br/>
Absentmindedly, you flip on the large flat panel television on one wall.  It’s on a news channel.  The lead story is about three missing young women from a college town to the west – not particularly interesting so you flip through the channels.  Finding nothing that attracts your attention, you turn it back off and ponder ordering some breakfast.<br/>
<br/>
A door at the side of the room opens.  The apartment connects to adjacent ones on either side, and that door leads to where Hyde-White stationed Steve Patterson.  Your so called teammate comes through the door, the faint smell of fresh pancakes, bacon and syrup wafting in behind him.<br/>
<br/>
He’s recovered quickly, aided by a nurse Fane have sent to help.  The cuts and bruises given to him by Curt Straussler’s interrogation have gone.  The remnants of the black eye he had are barely visible anymore.  Patterson cuts his usual imposing figure in a simple jeans and button down shirt combo, but he grins at you.  He’s been a lot friendlier to you since he accepted Hyde-White’s offer of a job.<br/>
<br/>
“Mornin’ Prescott,” he grins, walking over to the window.  “Isn’t this fuckin’ fantastic?”<br/>
<br/>
You sigh and throw the television remote onto a plush sofa.  “It’s still a prison.”<br/>
<br/>
“You think?”<br/>
<br/>
“We haven’t been allowed to leave since we arrived,” you explain.  “We left home on Wednesday, it’s Saturday now.”<br/>
<br/>
“Nah,” opines Patterson.  “You heard the Brit faggot.  He’s just looking for places to put us.”<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head.  “They’re probably got these rooms bugged,” you say quietly to Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs his shoulders.  “Who cares?  Fuckers aren’t going to go to the expense of flying us over here only to whack us now.”  He turns back from the window to grin confidently at you.  “They want us to work for them.”<br/>
<br/>
“They flew over to get the book,” you say.  “Not us.”<br/>
<br/>
Patterson shrugs and walks over to the sofa, throwing himself down on the cushions.  He picks up the remote and flicks the television back on.  You are at the point of thinking you’ll be stuck with Patterson for the morning when the door out opens.<br/>
<br/>
The door makes a low hissing sound and it swings slowly open.  It’s thick and solid, almost like a bank vault door.  Your earlier comment about the apartment being like a prison wasn’t unfounded.  Hyde-White walks in through the door with another, much younger, man following him.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the pair.  Hyde-White is dressed much the same as every other time you’ve seen him over the last two days, in the expensive, old fashioned and tailored suit.  The newcomer is a little different:  The suit is slicker, more modern.  He’s looking back at you too, assessing you.  Judging by the look on his face, he’s filed you under ‘unimpressive and forgettable’.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, you’re both here, excellent,” says Hyde-White, rubbing his hands together.  “Mr Patterson, may I introduce David Pendleton.  He’ll be taking you under his wing up in Manchester.  Junior management training.”<br/>
<br/>
“Finally,” grins Patterson.  He jumps up from the couch and walks over to Pendleton.  The two size each other up before shaking hands.  It looks like they’re trying to crunch each others bones.<br/>
<br/>
“Steve,” says Pendleton.  His accent is flat and nasal.  “Good to meet you.  Got your stuff?”<br/>
<br/>
“Only what you guys gave me,” answers Patterson.  “It’s next door.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well go pack, and I’ll tell you what we’ve got planned for your placement.”  Pendleton guides Patterson back through to the other apartment, leaving you alone.<br/>
<br/>
“Have I got to pack too,” you ask Hyde-White.<br/>
<br/>
He barks an unpleasant laugh.  “No, no dear boy.  I’m bringing your placement <i>here</i>, and you certainly won’t need anything here when you leave.”  He smiles again, his teeth gleaming, before looking at his watch.  “I’ll be back in, say, four hours.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You’re watching television when the door hisses open again.  You immediately switch it off, shoving your hands between your legs to stop them from shaking with the nerves.<br/>
<br/>
“Mr Prescott,” calls Hyde-White.  You turn round to look at him.  This time he’s brought a college age girl along.  “Good afternoon Mr Prescott, may I present Maira Niazi.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hi,” waves the college girl.  You stand up to wave back.  She’s a little shorter than you, with light brown skin and angular features.  Her makeup is perhaps a touch to strong, her eyebrows plucked perhaps a touch too much.  The effect is at odds with the clunky black plastic framed spectacles that sit on her nose.  Her clothes seem modest enough, a blouse covered by a sleeveless jumper and a pencil skirt and ankle boots.  Though they cover most of her body, they cling just tight enough to hint at a slim frame beneath.<br/>
<br/>
“Maira is a student at Wyndham College, Cambridge,” explains Hyde-White.  “Part of the biomedical program that Fane are sponsoring.  A real high achiever.”  <br/>
<br/>
Maira blushes a little at the comment.  “It’s no’ a big deal,” she says modestly.<br/>
<br/>
“What is that accent,” you ask.  “Where are you from?”<br/>
<br/>
“Uh…  Glasgow?”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s in Scotland Mr Prescott,” explains Hyde-White.  “Please excuse our American friend Maira, he is new around here.”  Maira glances to the side, looking as if she isn’t very happy with Hyde-White.  “However, I’m sure he’ll get to know everything about you very soon.  Will is joining the biomedical program too, you see.”<br/>
<br/>
“Aye, right Professor,” answers Maira.  “He disnae look old enough to go to uni.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, Mr Prescott is something of a prodigy, you see,” answers Hyde-White.  You aren’t paying attention to him, to be honest.  The fact that the door to the apartment is slowly being closed behind Hyde-Whyte has caught your eye.  “I don’t think it is going to be a problem in any case.  You see, Mr Prescott, Maira is the ideal candidate for the biomedical program.  Exceptionally intelligent, highly analytical, diligent and hard working.  But, alas, no one has told that the program also acts as part of the recruitment process for Fane and we have a very different set of qualities in mind.”<br/>
<br/>
Beside Hyde-White, Maira’s pretty face screws up as she listens to what he is saying.  There’s a sudden nervousness about her.  “What,” she mutters.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde white reaches inside his coat with a bony hand.  He pulls a silvery-blue oval:  A mask.  “Maira is not Fane material.  You see my intent now Mr Prescott?”  You nod.  It is horribly, brutally, obvious.<br/>
<br/>
Maira looks around, noticing that the door is closed for the first time.  Her nerves escalate to full blown panic and she looks poised on the brink of running.  Before she can act on the impulse, Hyde-White’s free hand snaps round her thin arm.  “What’re yeh doing,” she shouts shrilly.  “Fucking let me go!”<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White holds out the mask.  “Your placement, Mr Prescott.  If you would do the honours.”<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221111112211
author_id: imaj
title: Rubicon
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Hyde-White looks at you expectantly, the blank mask held in an outstretched hand.  That’s when you realise this is a test.<br/>
<br/>
It’s obvious, now that you think about it.  The whole set up is provocative.  Bringing Maira, a complete stranger, to you.  Talking about the masks directly in front of her.  Asking you to use it on her.  Hyde-White is looking to see what lines you’ll be willing to cross.<br/>
<br/>
But there’s a simple logic in your situation.  You are here, is a foreign country, entirely on Hyde-White and Fane’s whim.  You don’t have a passport, or any identification.  Back home the police want to talk to you about your role in the temporary disappearance of Monique Travers.  In other words, you have to keep Hyde-White and Fane happy, or you are truly fucked.  Stealing someone’s life?  You’ve been doing that since you found the book.  The fact that Maira is a stranger makes it easier.<br/>
<br/>
In truth, Patterson made you do worse.<br/>
<br/>
So you don’t hesitate as you take the mask from Hyde-White.  In one smooth motion you place it straight onto Maira’s face.  Though you’ve grown accustomed to the odd eye twisting way that masks slip under the skin, there is a gasp from Hyde-White.  You ignore it though, and instead catch Maira as she falls unconscious.  She is light, very light, and it is easy to haul her to the sofa.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White does nothing but watch as you strip her clothes methodically.  Each item you put neatly in a pile as it comes off:  The jumper, the blouse, the skirt.  Her underwear is plain and practical, and you don’t waste any time in gazing at what lies underneath as you take it off.<br/>
<br/>
Finally you pause and look up at Hyde-White.  “Don’t stop on my account,” he murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m going to need the sealant,” you explain.  “I can’t use the mask until it has been sealed.  And we used golem masks to keep people out of the way while we being them back home.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, I see,” replies Hyde-White, steepling his fingers.  “I think I have what you need, if you bear with me for one moment.”  He reaches inside his coat again, withdrawing a small tin about the sized of a pencil case.  He flips it open giving you first a tiny little plastic tub.  “This is the sealant you referred to?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” you say, looking at the gooey substance inside the tub.  You take the wooden spatula Hyde-White offers you from the tin as well.  “What about keeping her out of the way?”<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White unleashes that smile upon you again.  He takes one last item from the tin, a syringe filled with a dark blue liquid.  This gives you pause.  You have no idea what the liquid is.<br/>
<br/>
“What is that,” you ask, you hand half reaching out to take the syringe.<br/>
<br/>
“Would you hesitate if I said it was poison, Mr Prescott,” Hyde-White tells you before barking an ugly laugh.<br/>
<br/>
“Is it poison?”<br/>
<br/>
“Or perhaps it is merely a sedative,” continues Hyde-White, ignoring your question.  “Why does it matter to you Mr Prescott?  Do you particularly care what happens to this girl as you live her life?”<br/>
<br/>
That’s a question with barbs, you realise.  If it comes down to being between her and you…  “No, it doesn’t matter,” you say, grabbing the syringe firmly.  “How do I…”<br/>
<br/>
“Use it,” interrupts Hyde-White, finishing your question.  “The substance is quite foolproof, simply push the needle into her neck and administer it.”<br/>
<br/>
“I see,” you reply with a nod.  You put the syringe to one side though, as the mask bubbles to the surface through Maira’s face.  You lift it from her and give it a cursory examination.  The copy seems to have worked fine, and Maira’s name floats on the inside surface of the mask.<br/>
<br/>
You can seal it in a moment though.  Maira moans a little and it won’t be long before she wakes up.  You set the mask down and reach for the syringe again.  You stare for a second as Maira starts to stir.<br/>
<br/>
No time left.<br/>
<br/>
You flick the plastic sleeve off the needle.  Then you slide the syringe into her neck.  Maira stiffens as it penetrates her skin, her back arching slightly.  You push the plunger down without thinking about it.  She spasms as the contents flow within, her eyelids fluttering madly.  Then she goes utterly, perfectly, still.<br/>
<br/>
Was it poison?  You glance up at Hyde-Whyte, who smiles encouragingly at you and you realise you don’t care any more.<br/>
<br/>
The next step is to seal the mask.  It doesn’t take long to use the wooden spatula Hyde-White gave you to spread the sealant over the mask.  Then the mask is ready.<br/>
<br/>
Oddly, its this part that gives you pause.  Are you ready to do this?  Permanently – or as near permanently as to make no difference – step out of your life and into someone else’s?   But then, it isn’t as if your life is worth much anymore.<br/>
<br/>
You place the mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
By now, you are so used to putting on masks, you barely notice the effects.  Your head swims a little, you feel dizzy and black spots pass before your eyes, but that’s it.  Then the world is subtly different.  You lift up your new hands.  They are slim and delicate, the colour of bronze.  Your nails are neatly manicured and polished.<br/>
<br/>
Experimentally you reach for Maira’s memories, and suddenly you are very conscious of the fact you are naked.  The Maira persona insists you blush and your hands dart to cover your privates.  Hyde-White’s presence impinges on your thoughts again, and a very Maira tinged thought wanders through your thoughts.  <i>He despises me, I see it every time he looks at me</i>, you think with Maira’s mind.  R<i>acist, bigoted, fuck</i>.<br/>
<br/>
You push the thought to one side, along with the almost all the rest of Maira’s persona.  Her memories of dressing you keep, to help you put on her clothes.  You slip them on quietly and without fuss.  Everything settles into place and your last act is to fluff out your hair.  You straighten up and turn to face Hyde-White.<br/>
<br/>
“Remarkable,” he says.  “Quite remarkable.  You look just like her.”  He gestures at Maira.  Her skin has paled and you are now sure that you have killed her.  The odd thing is that you feel nothing:  You had to do it.  Hyde-White forced you.<br/>
<br/>
“She isn’t coming back,” you say.  It isn’t a question.  “I am her now, aren’t I?”  Hyde-White nods ever so slightly.  So you let Maira’s personality settle round you like a cloak.  Your stance shifts ever so slightly, your expression changes.  You are aware that you are letting your lip curl a little because of Maira’s feelings about Hyde-White, but it’s in character.  From the look on Hyde-White’s face, though, he appreciates the detail.<br/>
<br/>
“Magnificent, absolutely magnificent Mr  Pres…” he stops mid sentence.  “Ah, Ms. Niazi.  Shall we get you back to Cambridge?”<br/>
<br/>
You take one last look over the apartment, your gaze lingering on the body of Maira Niazi.  “Yeah,  Ah’m done here,” you sniff.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Maira’s place in Cambridge turns out to be the in the dorms – or as her memories tell you ‘halls’ would be the term to use over here.  It didn’t take long for Hyde-White to drive you up from London.  It was almost as if the traffic parted in front of him as he drove.  Now you’re just taking the time to get used to the poky little room that you’ll be calling home.<br/>
<br/>
It’s tiny, barely a couple of metres across.  There is room for a bed, a long desk and a small en-suite bathroom.  You look through the wardrobe at one end of the room.  It houses Maira’s clothes – all the ones she brought down from home at the start of term.  There aren’t many.  The desk is covered in textbooks, mostly biology ones, and sheaves of notepaper covered in Maira’s looping handwriting.<br/>
<br/>
It isn’t an appealing life, not yet.  Maira has to work hard and try to eke out what little money she has as long as possible.  It’s all going to change soon though.  On Monday you’ll have your first tutorial group with the rest of the biomedical program.  You’ll have to add whatever training Fane have planned for you after that to Maira’s busy schedule, but soon everything is going to change for Maira Niazi.<br/>
<br/>
Your chain of thought is broken by a knock at the door.  You open it a fraction, finding yourself looking down at a short, if slightly plump girl your own – well Maira’s – age.  Memories instantly jump into your head, telling you she is Josie Morris.  One of Maira’s friends on campus.<br/>
<br/>
“You back now,” asks Josie, flicking a curtain of bright red hair out of her eyes.  Her accent is distinctive, and as Maira you now know it places her as from the north east of England.  Like Maira, she’s from a pooerr background.  A fact that marks both of you as outsiders in the mostly wealthy students at Cambridge.<br/>
<br/>
You shudder.  “Professor Hyde-White’s a creep,” you tell her, mimicking exactly what Maira’s response would have been.  “I’m stuck with the fucker on this biomedical program though.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hah,” snorts Josie.  “Good job prospects I hear.  What would I know though?”  You recall from Maira’s memories that Josie is a history major.  “You didn’t forget we were going to have a night on the town?”<br/>
<br/>
Actually, you <i>had </i>forgotten, or at least not examined Maira’s memories closely enough.  You shrug guiltily.<br/>
<br/>
“Typical,” moans Josie.  “I’ll go get Cath and come back.  That’s enough time to get your pretty face ready,” she says, sticking out her tongue at you.  You stifle a laugh.  It might be fun, getting to know Maira’s friend’s first hand.<br/>
<br/>
Or will you make your excuses and stay in to prepare for Monday?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122211111122111
author_id: imaj
title: A New Life, Pretty Much The Same As The Old One...
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You admire yourself in the mirror as you finish off drying your glossy hair.  Maira isn’t a natural beauty, but your new body has some things going for it.  The clunky glasses that Maira wore to London have been switched for green coloured contact lenses.  You’re showing a lot more skin now, wearing a pair of tight fake leather pants and a gold sequined halter top.  The outfit complements the bronze tones of your skin well.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe your arms are a little thin, and your newly acquired breasts are barely worthy of the name, but those are small complaints.  Your makeup probably is a little strong again, but that’s the way Maira wears it.  A guilty Maira thought reminds you that you are definitely prettier than your friends.  The brief sense of shame that follows is hers too.  You let it make you feel guilty.<br/>
<br/>
There is a sharp rapping at the door, though it’s difficult to hear it over the sound of your hairdryer.  “Come in,” you call.<br/>
<br/>
Josie and Cath come in the door.  Joise you’ve met already, although she’s since gotten changed into corset and puffball skirt.  It’s a little too tight for her and her boobs threaten to spill out of the cups.  Cath is a complete contrast though.  She’s a fair bit taller than Josie, but her body is hidden within a shapeless rollneck sweater and a pair of baggy jeans.  It’s hardly the kind of clothes that most students here would wear on a night out, but Cath is very shy and very nervous.  It’s odd that she’s friends with the outgoing Josie, but Maira’s memories tell you that Josie looks out for Cath.  Though they went to different schools, both are from the same city.<br/>
<br/>
“Hah, told you she wouldn’t be ready,” grins Josie.  Cath mumbles a reply. <br/>
<br/>
“Ah’m <i>almost </i>ready,” you say, looking at the shy girl.  She gives you a little smile.  Cath might be a little cute if she was able to ditch the shapeless clothes and do something about the terrible state of her sandy brown hair.<br/>
<br/>
“Great,” shouts Joise, pulling both you and Cath close.  “You girls ready for an epic night out?”<br/>
<br/>
“Always,” you grin back, breaking free of her long enough to finis your hair.  You look at yourself one last time in the mirror:  Not bad at all.  “Ready,” you ask, grabbing Maira’s jacket from atop her bed.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course we’re ready,” answers Josie with a roll of her eyes.  Cath giggles.  “It’s you that takes forever.”  You link your arm round Cath.  With you on one side and Josie on the other, you practically drag her out of your room.<br/>
<br/>
An hour later you find yourself in one of the student bars that surround the university campus.  It’s packed, full of heaving bodies, though you and the girls managed to find a small alcove and table tucked in at one side of the room to settle into.  You are making your way back there, clutching onto a round of drinks with your fingers.  You push your way through, taking great care not to spill anything.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s my seat,” you say pointedly to the guy who has sat himself next to Josie.  His face is half hidden behind a wave of dyed black hair and he has a scrubby little beard on his chin.  He freezes in place as you speak to him and Josie gives you a pointed look.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ah</i>, you realise.   You give Cath a gentle push and she moves in a little to let you sit next to her.  “Here you go,” you say handing her the frosted glass bottle that contains the sweet alcopop concoction that she favours.<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks,” says Cath, raising her voice to be heard over the buzz of the crowd.  At least she’s loosened up a little.  You push the rum and coke over the table to Josie, but she’s too engrossed in her new friend to notice.  The last of the drinks, the soda, you keep for yourself.  Maira doesn’t drink alcohol.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey Cam,” says a voice above you.  “Wondered where you’d gotten to.”  You look up to see the latest interloper.  He almost blots out the view of the rest of the bar.  Tall and broad at the shoulders, the guy is wearing a tight shirt that makes the trim body underneath obvious.  The wet sensation that stirs between your legs catches you off guard.  You have to check Maira’s persona closely to make sure:  She thinks this guy is cute.<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry Geoff,” says the reedy guy beside Josie.  “I was just talking to Josie and her friends here.<br/>
<br/>
Geoff looks down at you, his eyes twinkling.  “Room for one more,” he asks.<br/>
<br/>
You are budging round he table before he even finishes speaking.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
He pushes inside you, moving with a relaxed rhythm that only serves to make you want him even more.  Your hands roam all over his naked torso, feeling out the well defined muscles.  You scratch at him, willing him to push harder and further.  He responds by rolling over until he is on top, and pins you in place with two strong hands as he ravishes you.<br/>
<br/>
You let yourself swim in Maira’s feelings.  It’s the easiest way to get through.  She wants this in the worst possible way, but at the same time lingering feelings of guilt hem her in.  What would her parents think if they knew she was having sex with near strangers?  They think she’s still a good religious girl.  The worst of it is, it isn’t the first time Maira’s slept with someone since moving to Cambridge.<br/>
<br/>
It isn’t the first time you’ve had sex as a girl either:  Patterson forced you to fuck Geoff Mansfield whilst pretending to be Lisa back home.  You don’t take the time to ponder the irony that you’ve only slept with guys called Geoff – This Geoff is making you feel far too good to think about anything.<br/>
<br/>
So you don’t think, you just let yourself be Maira and go with the flow.  You wrap your legs round Geoff’s body and squeeze as hard as you can.  He keeps pounding away at you.  It feels good and it feels right.<br/>
<br/>
It feels like you are Maira Niazi.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You roll onto your side in bed as the light falling in through the window finally starts to penetrate your consciousness.  It takes a minute to blink the sleep out of your eyes and you aren’t really awake as your hands stretch out and feel around the bedclothes.  There is nothing there except rumpled sheets.<br/>
<br/>
You open your eyes fully.  You are alone in Maira’s dorm, lying naked on the bed.  Of your companion from last night, there is no sign.  Almost no sign, for you start to become aware of a stickiness to the sheets beneath you.  Apart from that there is nothing.  Geoff has stolen way without so much as a goodbye.<br/>
<br/>
You shiver uncomfortably and haul the sheets around you as you sit up in bed.  The last of your happiness evaporates in the cold light of the morning.  Maira’s guilt and self loathing both come to the fore.  You let yourself experience them for a moment before shoving them aside.<br/>
<br/>
Not that being entirely yourself again is much better.  The memories of what you did last night suddenly seem more alien and wrong.  The sticky patch on the bedsheets leaves you feeling ill now.<br/>
<br/>
You get up, and the sheets fall away from you as you leave the bed and head for the tiny bathroom that forms part of Maira’s room.  The warm water of the shower reinvigorates you and washes away the unpleasant stains on your thighs.  You emerge some twenty minutes later, feeling much better and ready to be Maira again.<br/>
<br/>
Her personality slides into place around you and you take stock.  Better to simply forget about what happened last night, like all the other times is the Maira-like realisation you come to.  You sit down at the desk and turn on her laptop.  Tomorrow is Maira’s first session with the biomedical program, and she would want to be properly prepared.<br/>
<br/>
Still you can’t help but check Maira’s Facebook first.  You click through the messages and posts.  It’s just the usual – Cath posting about how drunk she was last night, Maira’s parents wanting to know how she is.  Then you find your way to Josie’s profile and your stomach twists.<br/>
<br/>
She’s just posted a selfie of her and Cam, the guy she was with last night.  You remember them going off together, just as you pulled Geoff back to your dorm last night.  Only for Josie it seems to have lasted a little longer.  You read the post, yes, she and Cam are an item now.  She’s even changed her relationship status.<br/>
<br/>
A little knot of jealousy hardens within you.  It is made all the worse when moments later Josie texts your cell phone and asks if you want to meet her for coffee.  You turn the cell phone off and throw yourself into your studies.  Fuck her.  You don’t need her anymore.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222111111221111
author_id: imaj
title: The First Day of The Rest of Your New Life
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You slot into a seat in the second row of the tiny little classroom, just behind and to the side of a pair of big blonde guys in rugby shirts.  There aren’t many students in here, maybe no more than ten, but there are only twenty seats in the class.  It’s an eclectic mix, from the guys in rugby shirts, through a couple of geeks in bad tees to overseas students who look to be from China, or somewhere similar.  <br/>
<br/>
A girl a few seats along from you catches your eye:  Thick black waves of hair cover the side of her face, reaching far enough obscure her sleeve tattoo.  She turns to face you, and you continue looking long enough to spot that one half of her head is shaven close, right down to a thick and dark stubble.  You blush for a fraction of a second before reaching down to pull your notepad out of your backpack.<br/>
<br/>
As you rummage around in your bag for a pen, you can’t help but overhear the two guys in rugby shirts talking to each other in whispers.<br/>
<br/>
“…bit of a rabble,” says the first.  His accent isn’t dissimilar to Hyde-White’s.<br/>
<br/>
“Good news for us then,” replies the second.<br/>
<br/>
“You say?”<br/>
<br/>
“Hmmm.  Supposed to be a big city firm behind all this,” explains the second.  “So it has to be a recruitment front.  Find the right people, bring them in.”<br/>
<br/>
“Really?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” answers the second guy.  “And like you said, bit of a rabble.  Who do you think the right people are?”  The pair dissolve into braying laughter as you pull the pen from your bag and sit back up.<br/>
<br/>
They quickly fall silent as Hyde White enters the room and gives them a pointed glare.  As he sets up the computer and projector to begin his lecture, you settle yourself into the chair, balancing your notepad on the arm rest.<br/>
<br/>
The lecture lasts an hour.  It’s mostly administrative:  The details of the program, points of contact and essay and exam requirements.  You let Maira’s aptitude here work for you, studiously weeding out the important fact from the airy drivel.  By the time the lecture finishes you have filled a couple of pages of your notebook in Maira’s tidy handwriting.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White drifts off at the finish.  He doesn’t announce the end of the lecture but rather simply coughs a couple of time and sits down at the desk.  The other students look at him expectantly for a minute or two, then at each other. The two guys in rugby shirts are the first to decide to pack away their things away.  The others quickly follow their lead.<br/>
<br/>
At this point Hyde-White decides to speak again.  “Ms Niazi, Ms Knotts,” he says, raising his voice to be head over the clamour of the students.  “If you would be as so kind as to wait behind for a few moments.”<br/>
<br/>
You’d halfway stood up by that point, so you get back into the seat and wait.  Everyone else files out of the class.  Everyone except the girl with the sleeve tattoo and half shaven head.  You can’t help but stare at her in surprise.  She’s really the last person you’d expect Hyde-White to want to talk to.  Unless Hyde-White’s replaced her too…<br/>
<br/>
In fact, she seems as surprised as you are.  She raises an eyebrow before hesitantly smiling at you.  You smile back weakly.  Hyde-White pays no attention though.  He walks to the door, checking briefly that no one is outside before locking it and returning to the centre of the room.<br/>
<br/>
“Allow me to introduce you to each other.  Paige Knotts,” he says, gesturing at the shaven headed girl.  “Who shows much promise.  And Paige, may I introduce Will Prescott.  A man who has already shown he has what it takes to be part of our organisation.”  If she is shocked by the revelation, she doesn’t show it.  Paige simply looks at you curiously, as if she is trying to work out where the trick is.<br/>
<br/>
“My name is Maira Niazi now,” you tell Hyde-White, mimicking the dead girl’s diction perfectly.<br/>
<br/>
“Just so,” nods Hyde-White.  “As you can see Paige,   Mr Prescott is possessed of a certain talent when it comes to being someone else.  One I suspect you may share.”  You look at Paige again, trying to gauge her reaction.  Nothing shows.  “The two fools in the front row were correct of course.  The biomedical program is very much a recruitment program for Fane.  Alas they do not possess the qualities we are seeking, and we have netted you both instead.  I have intimated this both to you individually already, of course, but consider today to be the formal beginning of your training.”<br/>
<br/>
“What happens now then” you ask, tearing your eyes away from Paige.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve arranged for a flat for both of you to move into,” explains Hyde-White.  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys.  “This will make it easier for us to train you.”<br/>
<br/>
“How big,” asks Paige, her eyes afire.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White chuckles unpleasantly.  “Alas, appearances have to be kept up Ms Knotts.  The apartment is typical of the other student dwellings in the vicinity, though you will find it comfortably appointed.  A step up from your current accommodation, certainly.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige folds her arms.  “I’ll take a look at it,” she sniffs<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a sudden move for me,” you say doubtfully, picking through Maira’s memories.  “I’d promised to move in with my friends next year.”<br/>
<br/>
“Is it a problem,” asks Hyde-White.<br/>
<br/>
You think for a second.  “No, I can think of a way round it.”<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White smiles his gleaming smile again and claps his hands together.  “Then I shall see you both there this evening.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
It takes a few minutes of digging to find Maira’s suitcase.  The bottom of the wardrobe in the little dorm is piled with older clothes and you have to root through them to find what you are looking for.  The suitcase is a huge thing, simply because Maira needed something that large to bring her belongings down with her when he came to Cambridge at the start of term.<br/>
<br/>
You lift it up onto your bed.  When you open it, there is another smaller suitcase inside.  Inside that is a laptop carry case.  You set the three cases next to each other before returning to the wardrobe and starting to pick up piles of clothes.  They go into the suitcases in a mess.  Neither you nor the Maira-persona particularly care to fold them up neatly.<br/>
<br/>
You’re almost finished packing when you are interrupted by a knock at the door.  Josie doesn’t wait for you to reply, she opens the door and walks in.  She’s followed by Cam, the reedy guy she went home with on Saturday night.<br/>
<br/>
“You aint been answering your phone Maira,” says Josie accusingly.  You stand up and stare back at her.  She looks past you and spots the suitcases.  “You’re packing?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” you say flatly.<br/>
<br/>
“Well where are you going,” she blusters.  “Home?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m moving in with someone I met in the biomedical program,” you explain, folding your arms.<br/>
<br/>
“I though us and Cath were going to get a flat next year,” replies Josie, a little surprised sounding.<br/>
<br/>
You pause for a second.  There is a lot of bitterness from Maira’s persona about what happened on Saturday with Geoff, and the fact that Josie now dating his best friend does not help.  Usually Maira would bottle it all up, act polite and try to ignore it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Usually.</i><br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” you say, unfolding your arms and putting your hands on your hips.  “Well maybe I don’t want to move in with someone who’s dating a guy who’s best friend snuck out on me without saying goodbye.”<br/>
<br/>
Josie stands there, stunned into silence.  Maira’s memories tell you this is almost unique.  Josie is normally too much of a motor mouth to ever be quiet.<br/>
<br/>
“This is my fault,” says Cam quietly.  “I should have warned you about Geoff.”<br/>
<br/>
You ignore him though, and shove the last of your clothes into the suitcases and wedge them shut.  Then you strap the laptop carry case over your shoulder and lift the two suitcases.  Josie stands between you and the door.<br/>
<br/>
She rests one hand on your forearm.  “You aren’t doing this, are you?”<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221111112211111
author_id: imaj
title: The Odd Couple
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The taxi driver hauls the last of your suitcases out of the trunk of the taxi.  You shove him a handful of notes and coins.  It was an expense that you couldn’t really afford, but since the alternative was walking halfway across Cambridge trailing two heavy suitcases you just had to bear it.  You check the piece of paper that Hyde-White gave you with the address of your new home on it.  This is the place.  You lean down to pick up the cases and then start to walk over to the flat.<br/>
<br/>
Unfortunately you bump straight into someone as you are pulling the suitcases up.  She trips and falls to the ground.  You drop your cases again and help the girl back to her feet, her dreadlocks swaying everywhere.  “Sorry,” you say.  “I wisnae watching where I was going.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s my fault,” she squeaks in a high pitched voice.  She’s an American, but that shouldn’t surprise you.  Cambridge attracts students from all over the world.   “I should have seen you weren’t looking,” she adds nervously before walking off.<br/>
<br/>
You watch her go, shaking your head.  What a ditz.  You pick up your suitcases and head inside the flat.  It’s actually a converted house that has been split into three apartments, one on each floor, with the one given to you and Paige on the top floor.  You use the key that Hyde-White gave you and haul the cases up the stairs.  By the time you reach the top, you are panting for breath.  <br/>
<br/>
You set down the cases just inside the door.  They can be unpacked later.  There’s a smell of something freshly cooked wafting through the flat and you follow the scent, looking for its source.  When you enter the living room, you find Paige sitting cross legged on a sofa wearing little more than a tank top and some shorts.  She places the fork she is holding inside the little bowl on her lap and smiles at you.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey,” says Paige.  “I just made some pasta.  There’s some left in the kitchen if you want.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks,” you reply before going to check it out for yourself.  You find it in a pot on top of the cooker, the oven ring still on low to keep it warm.  It’s long ribbons of pasta in a creamy sauce with the odd bit of a white meat that might be chicken poking out here and there.  You scoop it into a bowl and return to the living room, sitting down on the sofa beside Paige.  “This is pretty good,” you tell her after taking a mouthful.<br/>
<br/>
“Thank you,” she answers.  You both sit there for a few minutes, forking the food into your mouths.  “So what do I call you,” asks Paige.<br/>
<br/>
“Mpffm,” you mumble in reply, your mouth still full of food.  “What do you mean?”<br/>
<br/>
“What do I call you,” repeats Paige.  “Will or Maira?  You used to be a man, right?”<br/>
<br/>
You’re lucky you finished swallowing that last bit of pasta, otherwise you would have sent it spraying across the room.  It takes a couple of seconds to regain your composure.  “I still am a man, underneath anyway.”<br/>
<br/>
“Underneath,” she repeats, processing the information.  “So Will then?”<br/>
<br/>
“When I’m wearing this mask you should really call me Maira,” you explain.<br/>
<br/>
“So it’s a mask then,” she asks, placing her bowl of food onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.  “Prosthetics?”  She leans towards you and brushes your hair past you ear.  She grabs you by the chin gently and turns your head this way and that.  “I don’t see a seam.”<br/>
<br/>
You hesitate for a second.  How much has Hyde-White told her?  “It’s not that kind of mask,” you explain.<br/>
<br/>
Paige frowns.  “So what is it?  It’s very realistic.  If you hadn’t told me I would never have guessed that you weren’t really a woman.”  She moves her hand down towards your boobs.  You swat it away, leaving Paige looking puzzled again.<br/>
<br/>
“I am a woman with the mask on," you tell her.  You blush a little as you consider what to say next.  “I…  I slept with this guy on Saturday night.  We went all the way.”  Paige frowns again, and you continue before she can formulate her next question.  “Would you believe magic?”<br/>
<br/>
Paige’s mouth hangs open for a few moments.  Her expression hardens.  “I’m open minded.  Tell me more.”<br/>
<br/>
You tell her your story, starting with finding the book in Arnholm’s running through your initial experiment with the spells within and your eventually suborning into Patterson’s ‘team’.  You finish by explaining how you were captured and handed over to Fane, explaining to Paige how you thought they were going to kill you and your surprise when they offered you a job instead.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s sounds pretty cool,” says Paige thoughtfully when you are done.<br/>
<br/>
“Apart from the whole thought they were going to kill me bit.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, but being someone else,” she adds.  “Imagine the fun you could have.  Well I guess you don’t have to.  I can’t believe that Patterson shit though:  Picking up masks of girls so he could fuck them.  Typical guy – thinking with his pants.  What a waste.”<br/>
<br/>
You frown.  “Why, what would you do?”<br/>
<br/>
“That Monique girl you mentioned,” answers Paige.  “Or maybe someone else that wouldn’t get me caught.  Someone that would get me an easy trip through uni and a plush job at the end.”  She sighs.  “I’m sick of having to wade through all this shit to get what I want.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well I can assure you Ms Knotts,” comes a voice from the doorway.  “That the job awaiting you at the end of this training program will more than meet your expectations.”  Hyde-White steals into the room, walking round in front of you and setting a briefcase down on the coffee table.  “I’m pleased that you two are bonding by exchanging life stories, but I am sure I do not need to caution you further about discussing certain artefacts that may have been in your possession.  Needless to say, we do not want to unduly worry a number of parties about what we may or may not have in our possession.”<br/>
<br/>
“Not even with other Fane people,” you ask without thinking.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White smiles tightly.  “Especially not with other Fane employees Ms Niazi.  You will be meeting many over the next month and half, but you should content yourself with accepting the training they will offer you.  Loose lips and all that.”<br/>
<br/>
“Will we get to use those masks that Wi…  Maira found,” asks Paige keenly.<br/>
<br/>
“I imagine the opportunity will present itself to suitably industrious individuals Ms Knotts,” answers Hyde-White, turning the smile back up.  “Now, if you will excuse me for a moment I have your schedules within my briefcase.”  He pops the case open and pulls out two thick bundles of paper.  Hyde-White hands one to each of you.  Paige grabs her copy and starts studying it intently.  You leaf through yours, scanning it for anything that stands out.<br/>
<br/>
“CQC training,” you say, the letters sounding vaguely familiar.  “Wait…  Close quarters combat,” you ask, incredulous.  “Why do we need that?”<br/>
<br/>
“A formality,” replies Hyde-White with a dismissive wave.  “A prerequisite for any of our employees that work in the field.  Your Mr Kim would have received training, for example.”<br/>
<br/>
“But…” you begin.<br/>
<br/>
“But he didn’t look like a fighter,” interrupts Hyde-White.  “Fane expects its employees to have at least some ability to defend themselves, even if they are never called upon to use it.”<br/>
<br/>
“And what about all these books,” you ask, skimming through the appended reading list.  They all have odd – and in some cases foreign – titles.<br/>
<br/>
“Many of them are within the university library,” explains Hyde-White.  “Though they will be held in the special collections section.  I have, of course, already arranged access for both you and Ms Knotts.”<br/>
<br/>
You put the schedule down on the coffee table and sigh.  It looks like you are going to be very busy between it and Maira’s other classes, with no real time for any kind of social life.  Not that Maira had much of one in the first place.<br/>
<br/>
“If you have no further questions, I must bid you both good evening,” continues Hyde-White.  He picks up his briefcase and stalks back out as quietly as he arrived.  You sit dumbfounded for a few moments before picking your bowl of pasta.  It has gone quite cold now, and you no longer feel like eating it.<br/>
<br/>
“Maira,” says Paige, one hand resting on your shoulder.  You turn to look at her.  She’s dropped the schedule and is looking at you earnestly.  “Can I ask a question?”  You nod silently.  “What do you look like under the mask?”<br/>
<br/>
It catches you by surprise, and you take a little while to frame your answer.  “I’m nothing special,” you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t,” she says softly, stroking your shoulder.  “Can you show me?”</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122211111122111111
author_id: imaj
title: A Paige of Backstory
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Paige leans back, her expression neutral, as you stand up from the sofa.  Hyde-White’s warning about talking about the masks is still fresh in your mind.  At the same time you find yourself wanting to show it to Paige.  “Give me a minute,” you tell her.  You walk round the room, shutting the doors and closing the blinds.  That leaves the room half in darkness, but still lit well enough by a single table lamp in one corner for you and Paige to see each other.<br/>
<br/>
“What are you doing,” asks Paige as you sit back on the sofa and start unbuttoning the blouse you are wearing.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m a little bit larger that Maira,” you explain.  “I don’t want to burst my clothes when I take the mask off.  I’ve…  She’s not got that many.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige nods in understanding as you remove the blouse, exposing Maira’s slim body and small chest.  You unbutton the top of your jeans and then reach round behind your back to unhook your bra.<br/>
<br/>
“They look so real,” says Paige as you drop the bra to the side.<br/>
<br/>
“They are real,” you reply.  “It’s a total transformation.  Give me a second to remove the mask.”  You reach up to your chin and murmur the words.  The mask peels away in your hand, leaving you dizzy.<br/>
<br/>
When your vision clears, and you turn back to look at Paige, her eyes are saucers.  “Wow,” she eventually manages to say.  “I mean, I didn’t really believe it until I saw it.  Can I look at it,” she asks, grasping at the mask in your hands.<br/>
<br/>
You hand it to her.   She spins it over and over in her hands, marvelling at it.  “You never said how you got caught up with Hyde-White,” you say gently.  The mask comes to an abrupt halt in Paige’s hands.<br/>
<br/>
“I didn’t,” she says stiffly.<br/>
<br/>
You pause.  Tact was never one of your strengths, but even you can sense Paige is clamming up.  “If you don’t want to…”<br/>
<br/>
“No,” interrupts Paige.  “I mean, we’re going to be working together.  And you told me your story.”  She leans back, resting her head on the sofa, and closes her eyes.  “You had a pretty good upbringing, didn’t you Will?”<br/>
<br/>
“Um…” you mumble, trying to think how to answer.  “I never got on well with my Dad and my…”<br/>
<br/>
“But you had a family,” interrupts Paige.  “Your dad had a good job, you always got what you need from him.  All that.”  You nod meekly.  “Yeah, well…  I just had my mum and whatever boytoy was keeping her supplied on stuff to keep her strung out.  I didn’t even have that after she knifed one of them.”<br/>
<br/>
You listen with mounting horror as Paige recants her tale.  It makes your own troubles with your dad and brother back home seem trivial.<br/>
<br/>
“So I bounced about foster parents and I bounced about schools.  Had to start afresh every few months.  The only thing I had,” she adds, tapping at the side of her head.  “Was my brains.  I remember my mum telling me that once, when she was lucid:  ‘Don’t you end up like this Paige.  You work hard at school and get out of this shit’.”  She sighs and sits upright.  “Do you know how hard it is to do well at school when you start a new one every few months?  When you have a new bunch of arseholes riding you hard for no other reason than they can?”<br/>
<br/>
You confess that you do not.<br/>
<br/>
“I worked hard, really hard, got good grades, applied for – and got – a scholarship here at Cambridge.  I thought that was it, you know.  I’ve made it:  I’ll get my degree, get a job and finally things go right for me.”  She turns and looks right into your eyes.  “Everyone here is the biggest arsehole yet.  They look down on me because I didn’t go to the right school.  I tried for the biomedical program because everyone said there were going to be jobs lined up after it.  Same fucking arseholes…”<br/>
<br/>
“So why are you here,” you ask.<br/>
<br/>
“Professor Hyde-White is the first person to give me a chance,” explains Paige.  “It’s about time I got what I deserved.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry,” you say.  You can’t think of anything.<br/>
<br/>
Paige laughs.  “Why should you be sorry,” she asks in a sing song voice.  She holds up the mask, not quite pressing it to her face.  “Think about where these things are going to take us.  Think about what we are going to <i>do</i>.”  She hands you the mask back again.<br/>
<br/>
You put the mask up to your face and…<br/>
<br/>
Paige’s hand shoots out and stop you.  She pull the mask down again, moving in closer to you as she does so.  Her other hand reaches to your straw like hair and brushes it tenderly.  “You were being hard on yourself earlier,” she says in a quiet voice.  “I think you are special.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige leans in until her face is just in front of yours.  Her breathing shallow, she leans just a little bit more until your foreheads are touching.  Your hands find hers and clasp them tight.  You sit there for what seems like an age, so very close.<br/>
<br/>
Then Paige closes the gap.  Your mouths meet and you kiss.  She is slow and gentle, almost vulnerable and you want to do nothing more than wrap around her and protect her.  At the same time you can sense the iron core within her, the tightly wound spring that has pushed her this far.<br/>
<br/>
It isn’t your first kiss, you’ve had plenty whilst under masks and even some as yourself before, but it is perhaps the first time that it has felt so right.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The light pooling at the edges of the curtain stirs you into consciousness.  The fuzzy shapes in your vision start to focus and wakefulness steals over you.  You are yourself, and very conscious of the fact after spending the last few days as Maira.  The flatness of your chest, the sensation of something hanging between your legs feel oddly alien.<br/>
<br/>
But neither feel as alien as the arm draped across your chest.  You peek under the covers and spot the bronze coloured arm holding loosely onto you.  It catches you by surprise briefly, until you can summon the memories of what happened last night.  Yes, you and Paige did it twice last night, but the second time she…<br/>
<br/>
You roll gently onto your side, careful not to disturb the owner of the arm.  Snoring gently beside you is Maira Niazi.  You shudder for a moment.  When you put that mask back on you are going to remember fucking yourself.  Even just thinking about it feels damn odd.<br/>
<br/>
But you can't just leave the mask there.  The flat needs a Paige Knotts to live in it, and it has a surplus of Will Prescott.  As gently and quietly as you are able, you pull the mask off of the fake Maira.  Her snoring changes in note as she becomes Paige again.  She should be knocked out for a few minutes, so you take advantage of it and crawl out from under her arm.<br/>
<br/>
You press the mask up against your face.  The room changes subtly as you start seeing it with Maira’s eyes rather than your own.  Despite yourself, you summon the masks most recent memories.  They are tinged with Maira’s personality – her thoughts an opinions on what it was like.  Of Paige’s own intuitions there are no sign.  <i>No’ bad</i>, comes the memory.  Not good, not special and definitely far short of Maira’s experience with Geoff, but Will Prescott made up for it as best he was able to with enthusiasm and a certain puppy like innocence.<br/>
<br/>
You can’t stand the thoughts any longer and banish them from your thoughts.  You walk silently through the flat till you reach the bathroom.  Again, you enjoy the simple warmth of a shower and cleans and refreshes you.  When you step out of the bathroom – clad in a thick and fluffy robe with your hair bound up in a towel – the smell of bacon wafts through the flat.<br/>
<br/>
Paige is in the kitchen, dressed in a ragged old jumper that is two or three sizes too large for her.  Paint stains are splattered over it and the tattered jeans she wears.  As you enter, she shovels a pile of bacon out of a frying pan and onto a couple of slices of bread.  Paige folds the bread over, handing one sandwich to you and keeping the other for herself.<br/>
<br/>
“You kept me awake last night with all that screaming Maira,” says Paige with a mischievous grin.  In truth you were both quiet.<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes goggle for a moment as the comment catches you off guard.  You regain just enough composure to reply.  “The guy was a sex god,” you reply. “Best fuck I ever had.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige laughs.  “I’m not sure if I should be thanking you or you should be thanking me.”  She takes a deep bite into her sandwich.<br/>
<br/>
“So what happens now,” you ask quietly.<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe we’ll see that Will guy around campus again Maira,” she answers.  “But you’re going to need to get dressed if we’re going to get to that first training session on time.”<br/>
<i><br/>
And that is that</i>, you think.  A few minutes ago you were Will Prescott, who Paige wanted to sleep with.  Now you are Maira Niazi again, Paige’s flatmate.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222111111221111111
author_id: imaj
title: The Nonviolent Glaswegian
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The low swipe catches you by surprise.  It sweeps your legs from under you and you tumble backwards onto the gym mat, landing awkwardly.  It hurts, and you yell in pain as you land.  That will probably cause another bruise, and you are tender all over already.<br/>
<br/>
You sit up.  Paige is staring at you intently, dressed in a tank top and loose jogging pants.  Her face is covered in sweat, but she looks confident and energetic.  Her hands are held up, ready for another bout.  She’s matched the pose taught to you both perfectly.<br/>
<br/>
You wish you were that good at it.<br/>
<br/>
Paige relaxes and offers you a hand.  You let her haul you to your feet.  “I’m no good at this,” you sigh, wiping your forehead.  “Four days now and I’m as still crap at it.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige shrugs and walks away, disinterested.  A heavy hand falls on your shoulder.  “You’re getting better,” comes the deep voice of your trainer from beside you.  You turn round to look at him.  He’s a big man, starting to run to fat now, but he still looks as if he could bend you over and break you in half if he wanted to.  You’re certain he’s ex-military – he has that same bearing you sometimes saw from the troops at Fort Suffolk back home – but he’s told you nothing, not even his name.<br/>
<br/>
“Paige is wiping the floor with me,” you whine, before feeling guilty about the comment.  It’s a Will thought, not a Maira thought.<br/>
<br/>
As you take the time to draw Maira’s personality, the trainer moves his hands to your shoulders.  “Paige is picking it up very quickly.  Most people take a little longer.  Here,” he explains.  He moves your arms with an unexpectedly gentle touch, helping you shift your stance.  “You are still a little out.  You aren’t strong at all Maira, which means your technique has to do all the work.”<br/>
<br/>
You sigh.  With the right mask you would be more than strong enough, and you could have perfect technique as well.  You just can’t tell the trainer that.  In fact, it makes the whole exercise seem pointless to you.  “Thanks,” you say unenthusiastically.<br/>
<br/>
“Keep your head up Maira,” says the trainer.  “One more try and we’ll call it a day.”  You sigh.  “One more <i>try </i>Maira.  If you don’t try we’ll keep going until you do.”  You stop your head from sinking.  You’ll give it a try.  Not that he’s giving you any option.<br/>
<br/>
Paige comes back round, dropping into a fighting stance with ease.  The trainer walks slowly by her, stopping to whisper in her ear.  Paige’s expression hardens.  The trainer walks away from her and she starts to move.<br/>
<br/>
Paige doesn’t waste any time, she comes in fast and from the left.  You jump back just in time and she fails to connect, flailing wildly.  “How come I have to try but she doesn’t,” you shout at the trainer.  Paige is clearly giving you an easy time of it.<br/>
<br/>
She hops back a couple of steps and glances at the trainer.  He nods ever so slightly.  When Paige comes at you a second time, she gives no quarter.  A flurry of quick blows force you backward, with you barely able to dodge them.  You stumble under the weight of the attack but manage to regain your footing before Paige can take advantage.<br/>
<br/>
Paige presses forward and grapples you, grabbing at your shoulders.  You try to break free.  Neither you nor Paige are particularly strong, but she has the advantage over you.  You don’t manage to slip free of her grasp and she twists you round, stretching out one leg to trip you up.<br/>
<br/>
You sprawl over the mat with a thud.<br/>
<br/>
“Much better,” says the trainer as you push yourself up.  You rub at your cheek where it hit the mat.  It doesn’t feel as if you did much better.<br/>
<br/>
“You are getting better Maira,” agrees Paige.  She hauls you to your feet and gives you a sisterly hug.<br/>
<br/>
“I guess,” you reply, still not agreeing with them.  At least that’s another tortuous session over.  Better still, you don’t have any training sessions scheduled over the weekend and won’t have to do it all again until Monday.<br/>
<br/>
You leave the gym, if not happy then at least relieved.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You walk along the street to the flat you share with Paige, a grocery bag in each hand.  It was your turn to get them, so you headed to the shops while Paige headed straight home.  The bags are full of fresh vegetables and spices.  You promised to make a big dinner tonight.  Of course, you are a terrible cook, but you’ll be using Maira’s skills rather than your own.<br/>
<br/>
The dreadlocked girl you bumped into on Monday passes by you, heading in the opposite direction.  You share a polite smile and a nod as you pass.  She must live somewhere around here too.<br/>
<br/>
A few minutes later you are in the flat kitchen, unloading the bags.  Paige drifts in.  She’s had a shower and is back in the old sweater she seems to like.  “Hi Maira,” says Paige, resting one hand gently on your shoulder.  “What are you going to make?”<br/>
<br/>
“Something my dad showed me,” you reply.  You mean Maira’s father instead of your own.  He owns and runs a takeaway restaurant up in Glasgow.  “You’ll love it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Mmmm, looking forward to it.”  She removes her hand from your shoulder and reaches into the back pocket of her jeans.  “You missed Professor Hyde-White while you were shopping,” she adds, pulling a small brown envelope out.  “He left train tickets to London for tomorrow.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s supposed to be our day off,” you complain.  The strenuous pace of all the training on top of your existing class commitments has left you very tired indeed.<br/>
<br/>
“He said he wanted to reward us for doing so well in our first week,” replies Paige.  It’s hard to gauge just how sincere she is being.  “To show us what we’re working towards.  You don’t think he means…”  She drifts off, her hand gently caressing your cheek.  It’s the masks.  She’s talking about the masks.  She just doesn’t want to mention them by name, like Hyde-White asked both you not to.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know,” you say numbly as Paige withdraws her hand.  “I don’t know what they did with…  I don’t know what they did with it.”<br/>
<br/>
“I hope it is,” she adds, leaning back on the kitchen worktop.  “Hey, you want a hand with dinner?”<br/>
<br/>
“You are just trying to steal my dad’s secret recipe,” you say, waggling your finger at her exaggeratedly.<br/>
<br/>
Paige laughs.  “Foiled again.  Some secret agent I’ll be.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You look out the window as the train draws into King’s Cross station.  The long platforms bustle with life as other trains arrive and leave.  Across the little table from you Paige grins.  She’s been excited from the moment you both stepped onto the train back in Cambridge this morning.<br/>
<br/>
It’s a little after ten now.  In theory, a driver from Fane should be waiting for you both on the station concourse.  You half stand up, waiting for the elderly couple in the seats next to you and Paige to move.  It takes a few minutes.  The train is busy and a long queue forms along the aisle as people slowly empty out.  As it finally starts to clear, you climb out from your seats and reach above the seat and grab your backpack from the baggage rack.<br/>
<br/>
Paige follows you as you tail along at the end of the line of passengers making their way off the train.  You saunter out onto the platform.  The air feels thick and smoggy.  You can catch the smell of the train engines hanging in the air.  Every so often the noise of a train pitching its engine into gear and pulling out of the station reverberates round the station.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” you say, almost to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” repeats Paige, inflecting it as a question.<br/>
<br/>
“I just keep seeing that girl around,” you explain.  “The one with the dreadlocks.  I think she lives somewhere near us.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ah,” replies Paige as you watch the dreadlocked girl as she walks over to a young man a little older than her.  They hug briefly.  It must be her boyfriend, you suppose, but there’s something that is more businesslike than affection to the way they talk to each other.  It leaves you with a nagging sense that something is wrong.  “We should find the guy from Fane,” adds Paige.<br/>
<br/>
But should you?  You are supposed to meet the driver, to go and see whatever Hyde-White has arranged for you.  But there’s something about this girl with the dreadlocks that makes you want to follow her instead.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221111112211111111
author_id: imaj
title: The Restless March of Mad Science
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The Fane driver ends up finding you first, calling out your and Paige’s name when he spots you on the station concourse.  He flashes an ID card when Paige questions him on it, though you can’t help but wonder just how easy it would be fake such a thing if someone put their mind to it.  He leads you out through the front of the station, to a dark Mercedes parked practically in the middle of the busy street.<br/>
<br/>
No one seems to pay any heed to it.  The traffic simply veers round the car without complaints.  Pedestrians carry on with their business without a care as the driver leads to the car and lets you in the back seats.  It is plush and comfortable inside and the dark windows seem to isolate you from the noisy London streets.<br/>
<br/>
You stare out the window quietly as the Mercedes accelerates into the traffic.  The streets are all unfamiliar to you and soon you are thoroughly lost.  The thick traffic starts to ease and the tall buildings give way to suburbs.  It maybe takes an hour to reach your destination:  A modern looking research park<br/>
<br/>
The security guard waves you quickly.  The driver parks the car in front of one a row of identical low buildings.  He opens the door for you and both you and Paige step out.  You take a moment to look around, your eyes picking out the waist high sign in front of the building.  “Huntress Research”, it reads.  The driver leads you inside.<br/>
<br/>
The reception is surprisingly small, a low ceilinged room with barely enough for a reception desk and small row of soft leather seats opposite it.  The receptionist, a bottle blonde with a tight face, stares at you blandly as you enter.  The driver walks over to the desks.  He speaks to the receptionist in low tones, but you are still able to make out what he says:  “Two of Hyde-White’s students, here to see Lillis.”  <br/>
<br/>
The receptionist simply nods.  “Take a seat please,” she informs you and Paige in nasal, estuary accented voice.  She dials a number on her phone, and when she whispers into it, you can’t hear what she says.  The driver drifts away, leaving you and Paige in the reception.  “Doctor Lillis will be with you in a moment.”<br/>
<br/>
You and Paige look at each other.  The name is unfamiliar, and from the look on Paige’s face, she has no idea who this Doctor Lillis is either.  You pick up a magazine from the little table and leaf through it, glancing at the pages.  Even with Maira’s mind, the contents don’t really seem to make any sense.<br/>
<br/>
The door leading further into the building bursts open and out comes what is quite possibly the ugliest little man you or Maira have ever seen.  He is very short, almost gnome like in stature.  Bizarrely, he seems to have taken it upon himself to correct this deficiency with his hair.  It is a wild mass of black that explodes from his head in almost every direction.  A thin strip of flesh peeks out from below his hair, with liquid brown eyes and a huge bulbous nose.  Below that is the moustache.<br/>
<br/>
It deserves mentioning solely by itself, simply because it seems to have decided to take over the rest of his face.  It spreads right out onto his cheeks and hangs so long that his mouth is obscured.  It must be under there somewhere you reason, how else could he eat, but the man puts you in mind of one of those cartoon characters that talks by waggling their moustache.<br/>
<br/>
“Velcome,” says the man in a mittel-European accent, his moustache waggling.  “I am Doctor Karol Lillis, and you must be Paige and Maira.”  He almost vibrates as he stretches out a hand.  You hesitate, but Paige is quick on her feet.  She pumps his hand enthusiastically and you feel you have to follow her.  When you take the doctor’s hand it feels cold and clammy, despite the energetic way he shakes it.  “Come inside,” he adds warmly, crinkling his eyes at you.  They seem warm and inquisitive.  “Dhis way,”  he adds, pulling his ID badge from his lab coat lapel and using to open the door back inside the building again.<br/>
<br/>
Paige steps quickly along behind the doctor and again, you feel you have to follow her.  The doctor takes small, bouncing steps and bustles energetically through the building.  The corridors are long and twisting, and sometimes it is hard to keep up with him as he works his way through the almost maze like architecture.  Every so often a looming security door blocks your progress, but each one falls to the doctors ID card.  Ramps lead up and down and soon you can no longer tell if you are above ground or below.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually, he reaches his destination, turning to a side door.  It’s locked too, but again the doctors ID card opens it.  He pulls it and holds it, allowing you an Paige to enter before him.  Inside is windowless laboratory with sterile white walls and harsh lighting.  The half dozen or so researchers in lab coats don’t look up as you enter, seemingly engrossed at their workstations.<br/>
<br/>
In the middle, on a steel lectern, is the book.<br/>
<br/>
Doctor Lillis scuttles in behind you, still moving with that old half-leaping motion.  He moves in front of the lectern and smiles broadly at you.  Or at least you imagine he is smiling at you.  In truth you cannot tell.  “Let me velcome you to dhe Dianna Project.”<br/>
<br/>
You make a show of looking around.  “It’s very impressive,” you reply uncertainly.<br/>
<br/>
“Is that the book,” asks Paige keenly.  She points to the lectern.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah yes,” answers the doctor.  “Dhe <i>Libra Personae</i>.  Vhich one of you is Vill?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m Vill,” you answer.  In your mind you want slam your head into the wall for the unintentional mimicking of the doctors curious accent.  He looks somewhat amused by it though.  “I mean Will.  I was Will anyway.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ve have a lot to thank you for then,” continues the doctor.  “You see, Fane sometimes looks at people and thinks ‘Ve vish dhey would do dhis, or dhat, or something else’.  For many, many years Fane used their power and influence to do dhis, dhen one day they came to me.”  He starts pacing in front of the lectern, gesturing animatedly with his arm.  “And I realised that rather than influence the person in the position of power, why not replace them with someone who vill do vhat ve vant.  Dhus vas dhe Dianna Project born.”<br/>
<br/>
You glance past the doctor at the book.  “When you say replace…”<br/>
<br/>
“I do mean replace.  Ve slip in an operative in place of the individual, and then they do vhat we need them to do.  No one is any the viser.”  The doctor beams with satisfaction at the idea.  “Ve…  I have been working on perfecting a disguise process for a number of years now.  Ve have finally been field testing the prototypes.”  He picks up the book, the <i>Libra</i>, and flicks it open.  “And dhen you overturned everything vhen you found dhis book.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m sorry,” you say.  You can’t read his expression, mostly because of all the hair in the way.<br/>
<br/>
The doctor laughs.  “Vhy be sorry?  My understanding has leaped forward in a single veek, and ve have <i>barely scratched the surface</i>.  Every time I unlock something new vithin dhis book, I await vith baited breath to see vhat it is.”  <br/>
<br/>
You shudder.  You know what some of the spells inside the Libra do.  The idea of turning someone into a stone statue does not excite you in the way it seems to excite the doctor.<br/>
<br/>
If the doctor notices your reaction, he does not respond to it.  “I cannot vait to see what the Dianna Project can do.  And you two vill be at the forefront, once you have finished your training.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige grabs your arm excitedly.  “We’re going to get to use the masks,” she asks.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course,” replies Doctor Lillis.  His eyes dance about excitedly.  “Ve can do it today, if you vant.  A little challenge shall ve say?  Something to prove your potential.”<br/>
<br/>
You feel you stomach stir uneasily.  Doctor Lillis has been nothing other than enthusiastic and friendly, but at the same time...  A vague memory surfaces of the first pages of the book – a warning not to undertake it light heartedly.  That and you can’t quite shake the feeling that the doctor isn’t really the slightly loopy uncle that he comes across as.<br/>
<br/>
“Dhey say that in order to understand someone, you must first valk a mile in dheir shoes,” continues Doctor Lillis.  “A veek in each others shoes vould be sufficient.  Paige as Maira, and Maira as Paige.  Your challenge is to ensure no-one spots the imposture, not even Professor Hyde-Vhite.”<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111121211122211111122111111111
author_id: imaj
title: A Mile In Her Shoes
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>For the first time since she arrived, Paige seems less than enthusiastic.  She shifts nervously in place, her eyes flicking from side to side.  “Each other,” she asks, licking her lips.  “With memories and everything?”<br/>
<br/>
“Vhat vould be the point otherwise,” answers Doctor Lillis.  That same cheery attitude suddenly seems more sinister.  “You vill have to do it sooner or later.  Vhy not now?”<br/>
<br/>
Paige bites her lip.  “It isn’t fair though,” she argues forcefully.  “If Will gives me the mask of Maira, I’ll get all Maira’s memories but none of his.  He get’s all of my memories though.  It’s an invasion of privacy.”<br/>
<br/>
The doctor seems to think about this.  “Dhen I vill make a mask of Vill too,” he answers.  “For you to vear vhen nobody else is looking, yes.”  Paige opens her mouth to argue again but seems to think better of it.  She quietly nods her assent.  “Excellent,” replies Doctor Lillis.  He claps his hands together.  “Watkins, Kenyon, fetch me two of the masks and bring our guests to a changing room.”<br/>
<br/>
Two of the labcoat wearing researchers look up from their tasks.  They scurry about the room before coming over.  The taller of the two, a bespectacled man in his early forties hands you a mask.  You examine it closely.  No image is captured and a mind band is already attached.<br/>
<br/>
“How far have you got,” you ask Doctor Lellis.<br/>
<br/>
“Vhat you see represents most of our progress,” he explains.  “The subsequent spell, the golem as it was described to us in the report we received from the agent that interviewed you...  The purification of the materials takes time.  I think given time we vill shorten that, but right now the book is locked to us until the golem is ready.”  He sighs.  “Ah I vish I could take the book apart, but it would be unwise to until we have drawn every secret we can gain from it conventionally.”<br/>
<br/>
“If you’ll come with me Miss,” says the researcher.<br/>
<br/>
“Go Ms Niazi,” urges the doctor.<br/>
<br/>
The researcher leads you a short distance down a corridor to a row of cubicle like rooms, where he tells you that he will return in fifteen minutes to collect the masks and clothes.  The only furniture is a short wooden bench running along one wall and a thick white bathrobe hangs from a hook on the door.  It briefly worries you, that they have rooms setup like this, ready for you to swap identities in.  You put that to the side though and disrobe.<br/>
<br/>
You lay Maira’s clothes out in a neat pile before pulling off the mask from your face.  It goes on top of the clothes after you steady yourself from the inevitable bout of dizziness as you remove it.  The bathrobe is thick and comfortable as you pull it on.  You sit down on the wooden bench before you put the blank mask to your face.  You know how it will affect you.  Then you breathe deeply and place the blank on yourself.  Everything fades into darkness.<br/>
<br/>
The researcher returns just as you are waking.  You struggle to sit on the bench, with your legs failing to respond to your commands.  As you massage life back into them, the researcher picks up the little pile of clothes and leaves you alone again.<br/>
<br/>
It feels like forever.<br/>
<br/>
In the little changing room, there is little to do but wait.  Time passes slowly with nothing to do.  In truth, it can’t take more than a few minutes for the Fane researchers to seal up the masks, but you find yourself maddeningly bored by the time the door opens again.<br/>
<br/>
It’s the one that went with Paige, a horse faced woman with a sour expression and her hair tied up in a tight bun.  She hands you another pile of clothes and a mask without saying a word.  You look at them as the researcher closes the door behind her:  The clothes are Paige’s and the mask has her name floating on the inside.<br/>
<br/>
What was it Doctor Lillis said?  Walk a mile in their shoes?<br/>
<br/>
You lift the mask to your face, steeling yourself against the waves of exhaustion hit you.  Though you have to lean heavily on the wooden bench, you keep the darkness at bay.  The bathrobe slips from your shoulders as you stand up and drops to the floor.  It isn’t the first time you’ve seen this body naked before, but that doesn’t stop you taking the time to examine it closely.<br/>
<br/>
The hair is what strikes you first, as it feels distinctly odd.  On one side you feel nothing, perhaps only a sense of coldness on your scalp.  On the other you an feel the raven tresses brush against your neck and shoulders.  You run a hand through your new hair.  It feels smooth and silky.  Your boobs catch your attention next.  They are bigger now than they were as Maira, but not by much.  A small handful, your muse.  The rest of your body is thin, and a stray Paige memory tell you this is the physique of someone who never has enough to eat, simply because she can’t afford it.  Her tattoo is the last feature that you consider.  It’s beautiful work, a patchwork of roses and skulls rendered in vivid hues.  A ghost of Paige’s pride at having it impinges on you conscious, but you brush it aside.  You don’t want to take on her personality yet.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the clothes.  First you pull on the plain panties and the ripped set of tights that are only in part a fashion statement.  Then you slip on the bra and pull on the paint splattered sweater.  It feels scratchy against your pale skin.  The short skirt that barely peeks out from beneath the sweater and the faded work boots complete the outfit.  It’s a distinctive style, but one that Paige wears well.  You too, now.<br/>
<br/>
The last thing you do is let Paige’s personality settle around you.  The scratchiness of the sweater fades and feels more comfortable.  The excitement of learning about the masks seeps into you.<br/>
<br/>
And Paige’s fears about what will happen once Will sees inside her head.<br/>
<br/>
That shocks you.  You prod at the memories, to get to the bottom of it all, to find out what she thinks of you.  Your encounter with Paige at the start of the week is the first thing to come to the fore, when you took off the mask of Maira and revealed yourself to Paige.  The scene replays in your mind, from Paige’s point of view.<br/>
<br/>
It’s odd to think of yourself through another’s eyes.  Paige sees you as…  well… you’re unimpressive, stick thin and ill kempt.  But at the same time, she’s heard stories:  What you have told her, what Hyde-White has told her.  Will Prescott might not look like much today, but tomorrow?  To Paige, Hyde-White has already made up his mind that he wants you, and Paige wants you to take her with you.<br/>
<br/>
You aren’t sure how you feel about that.  Paige isn’t sure how she feels herself.  It makes your head spin and the simplest way to deal with it is to ignore it.  You push the thoughts away and concentrate on Paige’s excitement.  Grinning Paige’s own smile, you step outside the room and return to Doctor Lillis.<br/>
<br/>
Paige, no you have to think of her as Maira now…  Maira is already there.  She smiles wanly at you as you walk over.  “Is it everything you hoped it would be Paige,” she asks.<br/>
<br/>
You suppress a smile.  Under Maira’s face, the real Paige is worrying about what you are going to do now that you’ve looked through her memories.  What <i>are </i>you going do?  At the moment, doing nothing about it seems the best course of action.  “This is so amazing Maira,” you gush, matching Paige’s earlier excitement.  “I can’t wait to use these things for real.”<br/>
<br/>
Doctor Lillis says nothing, but you notice him nodding slightly and his moustache turns upwards in a way that suggests there might be a smile underneath there somewhere.  Maira just looks puzzled though.  “That’s… good,” she says hesitantly.<br/>
<br/>
“Vell, vill you look at the time,” interrupt the doctor.  “Ve had better be getting you girls back to Cambridge.”  He looks at you.  “Ms Knotts” he says, stressing the name ever so slightly, before turning to Maira.  “And Ms Niazi.  It has been a pleasure to meet you.”<br/>
<br/>
The comment seems to get through to the real Paige under Maira’s mask.  “Oh, yeah, right,” she answers, a little more of Maira’s attitude coming through.  “Thanks for having us.”<br/>
<br/>
“I vill be seeing you in a veek then,” he adds.<br/>
<br/>
You are sure that he will.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111212111222111111221111111111
author_id: imaj
title: Go Fuck Yourself, Will Prescott
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Absentmindedly, you flick through the channels on the television.  Saturday night television here is shit, an opinion that Paige’s memories tell you she shares.  But you have no money to go out and spend, so you are stuck here in the flat.  You finally settle on a movie channel, showing some terrible blockbuster from the previous decade.<br/>
<br/>
You really should go back to the kitchen and clean up.  Two abandoned and empty bowls sit on the coffee table.  The pots and pans still wait for you in the kitchen.  Maira made dinner last night, so it was Paige’s turn tonight.  It doesn’t matter that yesterday you were Maira and today you are Paige.  Keeping everything running as it normally would is part of Doctor Lillis' challenge.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, you really should move, but a certain laziness in cleaning up is part of Paige’s character.  It’s a trait you are happy to let play out.  The real Paige, Maira now you remind yourself again, has disappeared into ‘her’ room.  She’d told you that she wanted to study in quiet.  You suspect she’s in the mask of you now, the Will Prescott one.  You wonder what she will think of you once she starts digging through your memories<br/>
<br/>
It would be simple enough to find out, you think.  After all, you are immersed in a copy of Paige’s personality right now and you should be able to filter your own memories from her perspective.  You pull her thoughts as tightly as you are able to around you and start thinking about what happened since you found the <i>Libra </i>in Arnholm’s Used Books.  Not just what you told her a week ago, but everything.<br/>
<br/>
Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft click from Maira’s room.  It isn’t Maira who passes through the door though, but Will Prescott.  He’s clad in a nothing save for a plain white tee and shorts.  They aren’t Maira’s clothes, perhaps Doctor Lillis supplied them.  He walks awkwardly, and a little stray thought wonders if that’s really what you are like, over and sits on the sofa beside you.  Paige’s personality insists that it is hard to believe that this guy is the perfect infiltrator with the masks.  Yet the evidence persists.<br/>
<br/>
Hesitantly, Will puts his hand on your knee.  His lips wobble.  It’s an authentically Will Prescott reaction, and you fight to conceal a smile.  It’s a statement about how far the real Paige wants to take this acting like each other thing.  You have to react in kind, just as Paige would.  It’s almost crazy, as if you are setting yourself up to use yourself, but Paige’s character is in control now.<br/>
<br/>
You lift your knees, twisting in place until you are kneel on the sofa facing Will.  His hands find their way nervously to your hips as you lift off your sweater.  It gets discarded carelessly, thrown to the floor as you clamber over him.  You sit on top of him, raising yourself slightly so your boobs are in Will’s face.  His hands move up your back gracelessly until he reaches the clasp of your bra.  He fumbles at it inexpertly.  You blush inwardly, for whilst under the mask the real Paige knows exactly how to undo it, she is insisting on playing your character to the full.<br/>
<br/>
“Let me help,” you say, reaching back an guiding his hands.  The bra falls away and Will starts suckling on your boobs.  He is a little too fast, too aggressive and his teeth scrape against you uncomfortably.  “Ow,” you complain and pull away from him.<br/>
<br/>
Will looks up at you, confusion written on his face.  “What,” he asks, though you suspect that under that mask he knows exactly what.  A growing suspicion suggests that is exactly what he meant to do as well.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re…  You’re going to fast, slow down or you’ll hurt me,” you instruct.  He nods solemnly and tries again.  This time he is much better.  His tongue flicks across your nipples and you moan in delight.  “That’s… oh… so much… better,” you sigh.  You let yourself sink downwards till your head is level with Wills.  You press your forehead against his, running your hand through his straw like hair.  His breathing is short and shallow, as is your own.  <br/>
<br/>
Will presses forward to kiss you but you turn your head to the side.  He hits your cheek and grunts in frustration.  “Slowly,” you remind him before turning back to his face.  He takes your admonishment to heart and when he kisses you he is tender and gentle.<br/>
<br/>
It’s going to be strange, teaching yourself to be a better lover like this.  A lone Paige thought tells you that it will be worth it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You wake before Will does, just as the sun is starting to come up outside.  Your bodies are still entwined.  His face is only inches from your own, his mouth gapes open and a little drool escapes from it.  The memories of last night are fresh.  Paige’s personality tells you he is getting better, though you wonder how much of that will carry over once you are yourself again.<br/>
<br/>
You wriggle out from Will’s arms, ignoring the snuffling, snoring sound her makes.  His hands wrap themselves round the duvet and hug it instead as you climb out from the bed.  Lying there in the bed, he almost looks cute to Paige’s eyes, in a dorky sort of way.  You push such thoughts out of your head and quickly get dressed, fishing a set of underwear, jeans and a baggy old shirt from inside a set of drawers.<br/>
<br/>
With your stomach rumbling, you head to the kitchen, where you look inside the fridge.  It’s pretty bare, it always is since neither you nor Maira can ever afford that much food.  There is a half empty pack of bacon in at the back.  You grab it and empty the contents into a frying pan.  Soon it is sizzling away and you are buttering a handful of slices of the plain bread that Maira always buys.<br/>
<br/>
The smell of the frying bacon permeates through the kitchen and into the rest of the flat beyond.  It must reach the bedroom too, for a few minutes later Will Prescott enters the kitchen, dressed in the same tee and shorts he wore last night.  His presence leaves you feeling irritable.  <i>Why hasn’t the real Paige changed back to Maira</i>¸ you think.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey,” says Will.  He sniffs at the air.  “Bacon sandwiches?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah,” you reply with a tight smile.  “They should be ready by the time you change back to Maira.”<br/>
<br/>
“I wasn’t going to,” replies Will.  “Not right away.”  He lays a hand on your shoulder and you flinch.  “Last night was pretty good.”<br/>
<br/>
You pull away from him and turn towards the cooker.  “You should change to Maira, you repeat.<br/>
<br/>
“I wanted to talk about last night,” says Will.<br/>
<br/>
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you almost shout, the words bubbling out from nowhere.  You push past him and leave the kitchen, stopping only to pull on a pair of sneakers.  You storm out the flat, slamming the door behind you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The late fall – autumn Paige’s mind insists – air is cool in Cambridge.  With just the shirt on, you feel cold as you walk through the town.  Soon you are hugging yourself to ward against the cold, but the red hot anger you feel is still to warm to consider returning to the flat.  Even if you don’t understand quite why you feel it.  <br/>
<br/>
You find yourself walking by the river.  The sidewalk is covered in fallen leaves, and the more of the red-gold foliage hangs down from the trees that line the path.  It’s a pretty enough scene and after a while you stop to sit on a bench as your temper fades.  You still can’t work out what caused your temper to flare against your duplicate.  Even probing at Paige’s memories can’t provide an explanation.  <br/>
<br/>
Eventually, you look at your watch.  To your surprise, you’ve been sitting here by the river for over an hour.  You stand up and look around.  The street is finally starting to get busy, so you turn and head for home.  You aren’t sure what you’ll find when you get there.<br/>
<div align="center"><br/>
*****</div><br/>
<br/>
It is a little before lunchtime when you push the door back into the flat open as quietly as you are able.  You take a peek inside before you enter.  There is no sign of life, so you tiptoe inside.  You kick off your sneakers and head back to your bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
You are just turning the door handle when a creak from behind you alerts you to someone else’s presence.  You spin round to see Maira emerging from her room.<br/>
<br/>
“There yeh are,” says Maira.  “I didnae see yeh when I got up.  I wondered where yeh’d gotten to.”<br/>
<br/>
You raise an eyebrow in surprise.  Is this how the real Paige wants to play it?  To pretend nothing happened?  But then again, she’s just acting in character.  As Maira, she doesn’t know what happened this morning.<br/>
<br/>
And if she’s willing to forget about it, shouldn’t you be too?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112121112221111112211111111112
author_id: imaj
title: An Education Consisting of The Two Fs
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“I needed some fresh air,” you tell Maira.  “I went for a walk.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, ok,” she answers.  You both stand there silently for a few seconds.  Then you push into your bedroom and close the door firmly behind you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
“That’s much better Maira,” shouts your CQC trainer.  “You’re really starting to improve.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeh think,” she replies, with more than a little sarcasm in her voice.  She’s sprawled on the floor where you left her.  <br/>
<br/>
You have to admit, that under the mask Paige is doing a convincing job of being the same poor fighter that you were as Maira.  Your job has been a little easier, as thanks to the mask granted body and skills, you flawlessly managed to keep up with everything your trainer has taught you today.  It’s good to be on the winning side for once, but you are a little worried about what will happen once you go back to being Maira and Paige is herself again.  You doubt you’ll be able to sustain even the small improvements she has made to her technique.<br/>
<br/>
“Let’s break there,” says the trainer as you help Maira back to her feet.  She scrabbles up and smiles at you.<br/>
<br/>
It’s been a few days since you stormed out of the flat, but in that time it’s never come up again.  Maira has just carried on as if nothing has happened.  In a sense, she’s right.  You still wonder if you are just storing up more trouble for later.<br/>
<br/>
“We’re going to drop the pace, now you’ve both got the basics down,” explains the trainer, walking over and patting both of you on the shoulder.  “Weekly sessions rather than daily ones.  I’ve told Professor Hyde-White I’m happy with your progress.”<br/>
<br/>
“Really,” asks Maira sounding dubious.<br/>
<br/>
The trainer shrugs.  “Sure.  You’ve got the basics as long as you keep practising in your own time you’ll continue to improve.”  Maira groans.  You do too, inwardly at least.  It’s you that will continue to struggle, not her.<br/>
<br/>
“What are we doing tomorrow then,” you ask, hands on hips.<br/>
<br/>
The trainer shrugs again.  “I think the professor has something lined up.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
He does, but he doesn’t expand on any detail beyond telling you both to be in the flat the next evening about eight in the evening.  You and Maira are sitting on the sofa watching the television when the knock at the door comes.  Maira switches the television off with the remote.  She looks at you, a little trepidation showing on her face.  You don’t doubt that your expression is similar.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ll get it,” you say, before padding over to the door in your bare feet.<br/>
<br/>
You swing the door open to reveal a woman in her late thirties, or perhaps a well preserved early forty something.  She’s dressed in an elegant and expensive looking skirt suit.  That said, there’s something odd about the cut of it.  The hemline is just a little too high.  The string of pearls round her neck hang just low enough to attract your attention to the little flash of cleavage exposed at the neckline of her blouse.  You gaze reaches her face, framed by wavy brunette bangs and immaculately made up.<br/>
<br/>
It’s clear she is examining you closely too though.  Her eyes move up and down and her lips are pursed.  There’s a calculated amount of distaste to her expression:  Enough to make you know how she feels about you, but not enough as to be insulting.<br/>
<br/>
“Miss Knotts, I assume,” she asks.  Her voice is low and throaty, with just a hint of an accent to it.  French is your guess.  “I am Madame Duplantier.”<br/>
<br/>
She brushes past you and into the flat.  “Come in,” you mutter under your breath before closing the door.  You follow her as she walks into the living room imperiously.  “Take a seat,” you say a little more loudly.<br/>
<br/>
Madame Duplanttier casts her gaze around the room, looking at the sofa and the other seats in the room.  She stands stationary, rolling her eyes.  “And you must be Miss Niazi,” she adds, cocking her head to the side.  “A little better,” she mutters to herself.<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks,” growls Maira.<br/>
<br/>
Madame Duplantier frowns.  “I suppose it is of no consequence,” she says quietly to herself.  She clears her throat.  “Professor Hyde-White has instructed me to assist with your tuition.  He has appraised me fully of the situation,” she adds, inspecting her nails.  They are very red.  “And this is the only reason I have not walked straight back out the door.”<br/>
<br/>
“The masks,” asks Maira hesitantly.<br/>
<br/>
“Exactly,” replies Madame Duplantier.  “Neither of you are the material I am used to working with,” she explains with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “But with these <i>masks</i>…  Well then you can suit anyone’s tastes no?”  She smiles for the first time, revealing what must be some very expensive dental work.  She sighs.  “I suppose I will have the knowledge flensed from me later, but for now the possibilities intrigue me.”<br/>
<br/>
You and Maira exchange a glance.  “What are yeh talking about,” asks Maira.<br/>
<br/>
Madame Duplantier slaps her forehead with an open palm.  “Mon Dieu,” she sighs.  “Professor Hyde-White, he did not tell you?”  She rolls her eyes.  “As I said, I am Madame Duplantier.  It is a title as well as a name.  I am here to teach you, how shall I put it, the ways of the bedroom.”<br/>
<br/>
You are vaguely aware that your mouth is hanging open.<br/>
<br/>
“And why not,” adds Madame Duplantier, a shade defensively.  “Men have always had a weakness for a pretty face.  The same is true of women too.  I have trained many agents to exploit such weaknesses.”<br/>
<br/>
Paige’s thoughts nudge you, analysing the possibilities in what Madame Duplantier is saying.  “It’s the perfect way to get someone alone,” you explain thoughtfully.  “You could make a copy of them without anyone else knowing.  Or make a switch.”<br/>
<br/>
“Exactly,” states Madam Duplantier, waving her hands again.  “And with these masks you need not worry about getting close to your targets.  You could be a loved one, or the perfect temptation to lead someone astray.”<br/>
<br/>
“I like it,” replies Maira, her eyes shining.  The copy of Paige’s personality in your own head tells you that she is being more Paige than Maira right now.<br/>
<br/>
“And you Miss Knotts,” says Madame Duplantier.  “What are your feelings?”<br/>
<br/>
If you want to speak for Paige, then the answer would be a resounding yes.  Your own feelings?  The idea of fucking doesn’t seem as alien as it might have a month ago.  Paige’s thoughts nip at you:  <i>This is how you influence people, make them do what you want.</i><br/>
<br/>
“I can see it being useful,” you say as evenly as possible.  You cannot manage to keep Paige’s smile off your face.<br/>
<br/>
“Excellent,” replies Madame Duplantier.  She reaches inside her suit jacket and pulls out a couple of small white cards.  As you take one from her, you realise that it is scented.  “This is the address of the house that I have rented in Cambridge.  You will both report there tomorrow evening and we will begin your training proper.”<br/>
<br/>
You pocket the card. This has got to be a lot better than training to fight, you reason.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
“This isn’t really what I was expecting,” you mumble to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Madame Duplantier’s house is a magnificent villa in its own grounds on the outskirts of Cambridge.  The living room, where you are now, is spacious, with a high ceiling and a wooden floor.  A thick Persian rug covers most of the middle of the room, providing at least some softness for your naked feet.<br/>
<br/>
Madame Duplantier walks slowly round both you and Maira, cupping her chin in one hand.  In the other she carries, well you aren’t sure what the word is.  Wand?  Perhaps, though it is seemingly unmagical, just a simple length of wood she can use to point at things with.<br/>
<br/>
“No, not good,” she says, lifting up the tip of Maira’s chin.  “Your poise is off.”  She makes minor adjustments to the way Maira is standing.  “Better,” she says before turning her attention on you.  “A little better Ms Knotts.  Now both of you, walk across the room for me.”<br/>
<br/>
You walk for her, slightly uncomfortably and awkwardly since, like Maira, you are entirely naked.  Madame Duplantier had insisted on conducting the lesson so, to better assess your body language she had said.  Mindful of her instructions, you put a swing into your step, letting your hips sway back and forth slowly.<br/>
<br/>
“No, no, no, no,” she says angrily as you return.  “Ms Knotts, you action is too exaggerated, too obvious.  You must be subtle.  Too overt and you risk your mark thinking the less of you.  Ms Niazi, you are the opposite.  You must at least make some motion.”<br/>
<br/>
“I thought we were supposed to be doing bedroom work,” says Maira indignantly.<br/>
<br/>
“You must first entice your mark into the bedroom,” replies Madam Duplantier.  “Enough.  No more.  We shall continue tomorrow.”<br/>
<br/>
You sigh and pick up your clothes.<br/>
</span></div></div>


