Capes and Cuisines: Regirth (NEW CHAPTER ADDED 1/17/2022)

[Batman76]

Part of me had wondered if it was your version of rais al ghul. But that's mostly the one Batman episode set in the old west 

[Cyril Figgis]

1 minute ago, Batman76 said:

Part of me had wondered if it was your version of rais al ghul. But that's mostly the one Batman episode set in the old west 

Tempting, but I'm saving Not Ra's (Na's?) for future screwing around with the Wolf Pack, like 'curing' Not-ssandra Cain of her aggressive tendencies by making her into a docile fatty with legs too fat to lift into a high kick.

[Batman76]

12 minutes ago, Cyril Figgis said:

Tempting, but I'm saving Not Ra's (Na's?) for future screwing around with the Wolf Pack, like 'curing' Not-ssandra Cain of her aggressive tendencies by making her into a docile fatty with legs too fat to lift into a high kick.

Eagerly awaiting that

[Cyril Figgis]

WIDE, WIDE WEST, PART 4

Beatrice and Evelyn were led back to the house at gunpoint, with the former’s trigger finger itching and the latter shaking like a leaf in a twister.  The huntress might have tried fighting back, but she knew better than to trying taking someone that had the jump on her—especially when her sister was at risk.  The best thing she could do was bide her time and wait to see how this would play out; only then could she truly cut loose on Higgins and his goons.

When they marched into the house, Evelyn was given a robe and sat in a large armchair while Beatrice was frisked, stripped of her weapons, and forced onto her knees.  Several more watchmen had been summoned at this point, and the scarred woman now had half a dozen guns trained on her.  It was not the worst spot she had ever been in, but even Beatrice had to admit that things looked bleak.  Seeing her sister cower in her seat stoked the flames of resistance though, and she made a silent promise to herself that she would get them both out or die trying.

“What in the Sam Hill is going on?” asked a groggy, indignant Higgins as he stormed into the room, still in his pajamas.  A hairnet kept his greasy black hair in place, though he did not have time to prepare his mustache.

“These two were fixing to run off before they decided to snoop around in your stable,” one of the guards explained to Higgins, “Your private stable, sir.”

That helped wake the devious doctor faster than any coffee could, and his eyes went wide as a dragonfly’s.  He ground his teeth together, his nostrils flared like an angry bull, and he clenched his fists so tight that Beatrice swore she heard them creak.  Evelyn shrank back in her seat at the sight of him, as if she could possibly hide from him, but her sister simply glared at him with enough fire to melt iron.  Just as it looked like the doctor would lunge across the room and strangle his kidnapped bride, he let out a long sigh and relaxed his posture, though Beatrice could still see pure hate in his eyes.

“Evelyn,” Higgins mumbled like a disappointed parent.  “Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn…this is so very upsetting.  Not only did you try to run away with this gruesome vagabond, but you also disobeyed my orders to never go into my stable?  I am not a violent man, but I’ve half a mind to give you a lashing with my belt, you ungrateful sow!”

“Watch how you speak to her, Higgins,” Beatrice growled at her captor.  “You touch so much as a hair on her head, and I’ll feed you to your mutts!”

A reply came in the form of a fist to her jaw, which sent the huntress crashing to the floor and elicited a shriek from Evelyn.  Beatrice was yanked up by the scruff of her neck, but the heat in her eye had not subsided—if anything, it only intensified.  She spat, “You’ve got some nerve, considering what you’ve got stored in there.  What in God’s name have you done to those people?”

The doctor glowered down at the intruder and answered, “They are no longer ‘people’ in the strictest sense of the word—they are my test subjects.”

“T-T-Test subjects?” Evelyn meekly echoed from her chair.

“Precisely, dearest Evelyn,” Higgins replied before asking, “Have either of you heard of these radical theories from Mr. Charles Darwin?  He has posited that mankind developed from primates—a fascinating, if bold statement to make.  I hold a theory that if we came from animals, then perhaps it is possible to return a human to that primordial state, at least in some capacity.”

Beatrice could only gawk in shock and disgust as the demented doctor continued.  “I have found that the simplest method is to have the subject ingest a steady diet of hallucinogens and opioids that dull the brain until even a genius is as dimwitted as a cow.  You could always tamper with the brain with the tools of a surgeon, of course, but it’s far too easy to permanently damage the subject.  We are trying to create animals, not vegetables.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Evelyn muttered to herself as bile rose in the back of her throat.

Her sister was similarly sickened, but after the years she had spent out in the wilds, she had a sterner constitution.  Beatrice merely asked, “And how did they get so fat?  I’ve seen bears ready for hibernation that are slimmer than those folk.”

“That’s the interesting part,” Higgins replied with a twisted sort of pride.  “You see, I don’t get my money from selling hair tonics and diet pills; those are just little tricks that I use to get attention in towns.  No, I specialize in feed that will enhance animals: they can turn a piglet from the runt of the litter to a blue ribbon prize, make a chicken full and capable of popping out golden eggs, and cause a dried up cow to produce rivers of milk.  They work wonders, but by a stroke of genius, I discovered that they are especially effective on humans.

“One of my former lovers was a curious little thing—not unlike yourself, Evelyn—and none too bright; she got into a sack of my pig feed and, without a second thought, gave it a try.  I knew that it was safe for human consumption, of course, but I had no idea that it would be quite so addictive.  By the time I’d gotten to her, she’d eaten half the bag and couldn’t move for the rest of the day!  After that, I watched as she fattened up almost by the day, turning from a spritely little thing to a whale in one month’s time.  It was her stark transformation that inspired my experiment, and she was one of the first occupants of that stable.”

Each new sentence was madder than the last, and Beatrice wondered where it possibly ended.  She probed further and asked, “So that’s all?  You just plump them up and keep them around like pets?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Higgins replied with a shake of his head.  “No, that would be a terrible waste of money.  You would be surprised just what the elite are willing to pay for a plaything too fat and stupid to know what’s going on.  Why, just last week, I sold an older couple a pretty little redhead who had birthing hips so wide, she had trouble squeezing out her stall door!  On top of that, the breast milk of a human cow is such an exotic, acquired taste that folks are willing to spend top dollar on it.”

Of all the cockamamie schemes that Beatrice had come across in her travels, this was the most disturbing and twisted one.  She could hear Evelyn retching behind her, but all she could focus on was fighting the urge to leap across the room and drive Higgins’s head through a wall.  Though her experiences had stripped the huntress of her empathy, she still held enough faith in humanity to despair for the poor souls that fell into this madman’s clutches.  If she made it through this, she was going to find a way to save them, just as Evelyn wanted.

“Forgive me if I ramble: it’s not too often that I get the chance to talk about my hobbies,” Higgins hummed contentedly.  “Now, onto a more important matter—what do I do to the two of you?  As angry as I am, Evelyn, I am disappointed even more, but both shall pass in time; all we need is the proper punishment for you.  Your companion, on the other hand, will not fare so much better, for I have no place for a scoundrel that would dare run off with my beloved.”

It was then that Evelyn found the courage to speak up and cry out, “Don’t you hurt her, Archie!  Do whatever you want to me, but leave my sister out of this!”

The doctor did a double-take between Beatrice and Evelyn, asking, “Sister?  What, this gruesome ghoul is your sister?”

“You’re no prize yourself, Higgins,” the huntress grimaced at her tormentor.

The doctor stooped down and leaned in so close that Beatrice gagged on his pomade.  He studied her for a moment or two before he snapped his fingers in realization and proclaimed, “Hell’s bells, boys—that’s Beatrice Thorne!  Evelyn, you told me that your sister was famous, but I never would have imagined she was the Pale Rider!”

“And I’m going to show you how I got that name unless you let me and my sister walk out of here,” Beatrice warned Higgins.  “I’ve killed for far less than this.”

“I’m sure you have, but I’m sure we can take that fight out of you,” the snide man retorted as he stood back up and sauntered over to Evelyn.  He sat down on the arm of the chair, snaked his arm around her soft shoulders, and pulled his plump captive close in a vise-like grip.  “The only question is what to do with you when that happens.”

Evelyn struggled in Higgins’s grasp but, failing to free herself, settled for looking up to him with tearful eyes.  She pleaded, “Archie, I beg of you to leave her be!  I’ll be whatever you want me to be—a cow, a pig, a damned chicken—but just let Bea go!”

Higgins chuckled grimly and squeezed Evelyn’s cheeks until her lips were forced into a pucker.  “Oh, Evelyn dear, your fate is a foregone conclusion; you’ll join your sister one way or another.  I could fetch a pretty penny if I were to auction off someone as notorious as the Pale Rider—and if you think I am cruel-spirited, just imagine what someone with a thirst for revenge might do to the dumb, fat cow your sister will become.”

That remark earned him a slap across the cheek that left a bright red print and a ringing in his ear.  Hot tears streaked down Evelyn’s face as she scowled to match her sister and growled, “If you do anything to hurt my sister, Archie Higgins, I will swallow my tongue!”

The doctor gingerly touched the burning mark on his cheek and gritted his teeth through the sting as he replied, “All right then, dear—but just for that, I’m going to make you my masterpiece.  Gentlemen, please take Ms. Thorne out to the stables and get her set up for the evening—I shall see to her in the morning.”

Evelyn shrieked and sobbed as Beatrice was dragged away, but the grim huntress kept silent as she was hauled away.  The reveal of her identity meant the guards were taking extra precautions with her, which, between the gun at her back and the thugs pinning her arms, made escape nigh impossible.  Normally, her captors might act cocky and think they had won, but these goons were smarter than that; they had heard enough stories about Beatrice Thorne to know not to rile her up.  Instead, they dragged her to the stables and chained her to the wall—and even then, they neither said a word nor raised a hand against her, lest she lash out like a tiger backed into a corner.

“Better get use to this pen, Thorne,” one dared to say, “’cause you ain’t going anywhere else.”

Let them laugh—let them say whatever they want.  Beatrice Thorne had developed a thick skin and boundless patience in her time, and she knew that one way or another, she would find a way out of this.  Once she did, this indignity would be paid back a hundredfold…

***

It was a long month and a half that Beatrice spent in that pen, one of the longest times she had ever spent locked up and only beaten by a summer spent in a Mexican prison.  To say that the conditions were inhospitable would be an understatement: she was kept shackled to the wall the entire time, with the gate just out of reach; she was made to do her business in the corner of the pen just a few feet from where she slept; and her clothes were not changed a single time, though that was more from how leery everyone was around her.

At least she was kept well-fed.  After years of living off rations on the trail, Beatrice was almost happy to have three meals a day, though she was well aware of the effects such eating had on her body.  The enhanced pig feed that Higgins had her scarfing down was not half bad, but it was hard to tell how good it truly was with the drugs in her system.  She had been starved the first few days before they left a trough of the mix in front of her, and at that point, she would have eaten anything.  It took a couple more days before the effects began to take hold, but when they did, they intensified by the day.

All it took was a few weeks to undo years of hard living and fighting.  Beatrice had no idea how much she weighed exactly and could only use her own clothes as a gauge for her gain.  Her trousers and drawers underneath had torn down the seat, exposing her pale rump more and more with each day.  Little holes had opened along the seams, bringing with them little globules of blubber that grew bigger as her body soaked up calories like a cactus and rain.  Likewise, her shirt had holes under the arms and at her sides, and the two seemed to be in a race to see when they would meet.  Most discouraging of all was how little of her stomach was covered, as it only reached halfway down her torso and left a thick ball of jelly belly on display.

That was all she could do: laze around all day and sit on display for Higgins, his goons, and occasionally, her sister.  The former two scoffed at the blubbery bounty hunter, jeering at how unimposing she had grown in so short a time, while poor Evelyn could only watch in despair as the toughest gunslinger she ever knew grew softer than butter.  Beatrice wished that she could tell her baby sister that all was well, but she had to keep up the ruse that Higgins had won, so she stuffed her face with pig feed and feigned sleep whenever anyone was around.

Yes, a ruse.  While the pounds piling on her lean frame were very real, the drugged stupor Higgins claimed to have her in was nonexistent.  Perhaps the drugs he had were potent to the uninitiated, but Beatrice had done too much in her life for the meager doses he used to be effective; at best, it left her with a warm feeling in her chest and took the sting off her current predicament.  With her captors in a false sense of security, this gave Beatrice the chance to weaken her binds any way she could.  It had taken nearly two months, but there was finally some give to them—just what she needed.

“Feeding time, freaks,” one of the thugs announced as he strode through the stable with buckets of the fattening feed.  The brainwashed captives crowed happily for their slop, but Beatrice lay quietly in her bed of straw, just waiting for him to approach.  Soon enough, he arrived at her pen and said, “Up and at ‘em, Thorne.  Don’t make me have to come in there with a funnel.”

Despite the threat, Beatrice remained perfectly still, as if she was truly asleep.  The goon grunted in frustration and opened the pen door to check on the captive huntress, the first to dare getting close to her in weeks.  As soon as he was within reach, Beatrice shot up in her bed and tackled the man to the ground, pinning him underneath her newly gained bulk.  She gave a herculean tug on her chains and wrenched them from the wall before slamming her fists down onto the thug’s head until it was mush on the floor.

She wasted no time in stealing his gun before wrapping the chains around her arms and storming her way out of the stables.  Walking with so much useless fat was an alien feeling to her, but the fury pumping through her veins drove her forward like a locomotive driven by a madman.  Even as the tears in her trousers grew deeper and wider with each step, Beatrice kept moving forward, her eyes dead-set on the main house.

Stealth was not an option; the dozens of pounds of blubber deprived her of that.  Beatrice marched on with grim determination, either shooting down or chain-whipping anyone that she came across and stealing their gun.  The guards she came across were not ready for her, but even if they had time to prepare for the fattened fiend, they could never have stopped her.  She cut through them like a scythe to a grass and left a trail of bodies in her wake before she reached the house and kicked the door down with a mighty kick.

“Higgins!” Beatrice roared like a mountain lion.  “Show yourself, you coward!”

A moment later, the doctor appeared at the top of the stairs, but he did not come alone.  He had Evelyn with him—one hand sinking into her doughy waist and the other holding a pistol to her head.  There was a crazed look in the doctor’s eyes as he stared in rage and disbelief at the vengeful woman at the foot of the stairs, and he was frothing at the lips when he asked, “How are you doing this?  You should be too dazed to even stand!”

“With that baby formula you were feeding me?  Hardly,” Beatrice scoffed.  “Best you let my sister go, or else I’ll send you to Hell in pieces!”

“You won’t dare,” Higgins sneered as he prodded Evelyn’s temple with his pistol.  “I am going to take Evelyn to my cart and we are going to ride out of here; if you take even a single step towards us, I’ll blow her brains out!”

Beatrice paused to shoot down a goon that came around the corner, but her eye never left Evelyn.  She called up to her sister, “Evie, you’re going to be just fine, okay?  I just need you to do what you did when Bart Polchlopek got handsy with you at that gala.”

The words were lost on Higgins, but Evelyn remembered the incident clear as day.  She slammed her foot down atop her captor’s with enough force to break bone, and Archie released her as he howled in pain.  The second Evelyn was clear, Beatrice put a bullet between his eyes, followed by three more in the chest for good measure.  Higgins’s body tumbled down the stairs before landing in front of his killer like a limp rag doll, who, just for good measure, crushed his neck under her foot.

Beatrice was immediately tackled by Evelyn, who was a blubbering, blubbery mess and wept uncontrollably as she held tight to her sister.  The huntress simply hummed and returned the hug, her heart at ease for the first time in months.

((And with that, we bid happy trails to Beatrice and Evelyn!  I hope you've enjoyed this look into the past for this trip to the Weird West--and if you haven't, don't worry, because we're returning to the present next Wednesday!  Stay tuned for the misadventures of Lady Liberty!))

[Batman76]

Absolutely loved this whole section. The gun fight was great, as was the sister just boredom eating into obesity and out of her corsets, as well as the drugs failing to work on her. We need more fat westerns.

[Cyril Figgis]

1 hour ago, Batman76 said:

Absolutely loved this whole section. The gun fight was great, as was the sister just boredom eating into obesity and out of her corsets, as well as the drugs failing to work on her. We need more fat westerns.

This arc was a lot of fun to write from start to finish.  Beatrice and Evelyn have quickly become some of my favorite characters in C&C, and there'll definitely be more from them in the future.

[Cyril Figgis]

((Well, it may not be Wednesday anymore, but given that time and the calendar are just human concepts, it's Wednesday if you really want it to be.  We're back with the next entry in the C&C Universe, and our next subject is the very patriotic Lady Liberty!  What's going to happen to make this super-soldier soften up?  Read on and find out!))

LADY LIBERTY, PART 1

Among the many decorated heroes on Earth-11, few had as storied and long-lived a career as Lady Liberty.  Born Libertas nu Eleutheria, she hailed from the alien world of Edinnu, a planet long under siege from its neighbor, Helkur.  Libertas was the child of freedom fighters who died in a rebellion against Helkurrian forces, which stoked the fire of insurrection inside her and drove her to become a soldier in service to Edinnu.  In time, she became a super-soldier capable of fighting the monsters of Helkur, inspired her people to defy their tyrannical oppressors, and, armed only with a torch and shield, crushed the lords of Helkur.

Libertas’s first venture to Earth came in 1870, when she pursued a renegade Helkurrian to the planet and became briefly entangled in the Franco-Prussian War.  It was there that she met and inspired a sculptor Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, who recalled the alien warrior when designing the Statue of Liberty.  She did not return for nearly 70 years, at which point the world had become embroiled in the Second World War and served alongside several others in the first major coalition between superheroes as the Justice Alliance.

Though she remained for several years after, the growing paranoia in the Cold War and unrest on Edinnu caused Libertas to return to her homeworld for decades after.  Only when she learned that her enemies on Helkur had spread their influence to Earth did she deign to return, at which point she became a member of the Protectors.  Since then, she had maintained a healthy balance of guarding both Earth and Edinnu and become a worlds-renowned heroine—a symbol of hope in the face of despair, who never backed down from any threat.

Until the day one of her partners was kidnapped, that is.  Libertas had worked with a number of partners and aides over the decades, from a plucky young cadet in the French National Guard to a former member of the Air Force to an agent of F.E.E.D.  In this instance, it was Lya Bartholdi, alias Agent 75 in F.E.E.D., a descendant of Frédéric and one of Libertas’s closest allies.  Lya and she had been through thick and thin, fought in battles that spanned the cosmos, and always seemed to find their way back to each other.  That was why the heroine felt like a knife went through her heart when she found out that Lya had been abducted while in the field.

Libertas had received an anonymous message instructing her to meet at an old radio station just outside New York City and arrived promptly at 3:00 pm without her weapons, per the instructions.  It was a classic set-up for a trap, but anyone who truly knew her knew that Lady Liberty was hardly defenseless when unarmed.  That was why the guards that escorted her into the station maintained a healthy distance from her, lest they end up blood splatters on the wall.  Instead, they eyeballed her warily, failed to keep their knees from clicking, and led her into one of the recording booths.

“Greetings, Lady Liberty!  It has been far too long,” remarked her hostile host.

Seated at the soundboard was an amalgamation of man and machine known as Doctor Spyn—Minister of Propaganda on Helkur.  He had the lean, sickly, and vascular body of a rock star, though the limbs were of sleek metal, and his head had been replaced by a television set.  Though it could depict whatever he so desired, Spyn had the default set to his face pre-transmogrification, which was that of a bloated puffer fish of a man.  A salesman-like grin spread across his simulated lips as he gave a polite wave to Libertas, who did not return the sentiment.

“Where is Agent 75, Spyn?” the heroine asked, icy venom dripping in every word.

Though she was not dressed in her warrior’s garb, Libertas was no less imposing.  She was a towering woman at six foot-two and built with lean muscles that could shred paper, the only bulk she had was in her thighs, which could crush an entire watermelon patch without breaking a sweat.  The day found her in casual clothes made for comfort and combat: a green tank top, camouflage tights, and black boots, all of which made her look like a visitor from boot camp.  Her amber hair was kept shorter these days, though nowhere near as short as the buzz-cut she sported during World War 2.  In all, she cut a menacing picture, and the only one unintimidated was Doctor Spyn.

“To the point, as always,” the television man sighed.  “Agent Bartholdi is fine for now, madam; we would never dare to harm her while you still live.  However, her safe return depends entirely on your next few words, Lady Liberty.”

Libertas gritted her teeth and glared daggers through Spyn as she growled, “Show me.”

The minister rolled his digital eyes and tapped the side of his screen, changing the image each time until settling on footage of Lya restrained in what looked like a dentist’s chair.  Though she was surrounded by terrifying devices and instruments of torture, there was not a hair out of place on the agent.  Lya remained stoic in the face of capture and glowered around at forces just off-screen, and one look was all Libertas needed to confirm it was her friend.

“And no, she’s not a hologram, shapeshifter, clone, or any combination of the above,” Doctor Spyn assured the heroine.  “Satisfied?”

“For now,” Libertas grunted.  “What are you after this time?”

The digitized man turned the picture back to his face before answering, “The same thing I’m always after, Lady Liberty—to crush you and the rebellion that you have inspired.  Your talk of freedom, justice, and compassion has spread to even the darkest depths of Helkur, and we simply cannot have that.  Therefore, I have devised a brilliant plan to discredit you like never before and turn you from a paragon to a pariah!”

Libertas rolled her eyes at the threat and counted the times that Doctor Spyn had made such a declaration to her.  He had a talent for manipulating the truth and twisting facts to get his way, as was befitting of a Minister of Propaganda, and he often went to great lengths in his war against Lady Liberty.  During his time in office, Spyn had framed her for presidential assassination twice, blowing up the United Nations headquarters, and plotting to conquer Edinnu, but all his plots inevitably blew up in his face—literally in one case, hence the modifications to his body.  He had made so many bold claims in the past, Libertas found it nigh impossible to take him seriously.

“Spyn, let me stop you right there,” the heroine told the minister.  “Think about everything we’ve been through, you and I, and how I’ve always come out on top no matter what you do.  Surely you realize by now that you cannot bury me alive in your lies—or must I remind you of the myriad times you’ve failed to stifle me?”

The synthetic man clenched his fists tight as he answered, “You are not wrong, but I see now that my plans were faulty before.  I was so fixated on making you look like a criminal that I never considered how people would never believe you to be a traitor; of course you would never suddenly join our unholy alliance to the dissatisfaction of thousands.”

“Yes, your plan to create a secret empire on Earth was not your finest work,” Libertas reminded the propagandist with a cocky smirk.

“Be that as it may, you have never faced a plot quite like this, for you shall be active in your own demise,” Doctor Spyn insisted.  “If you wish to see Agent 75 returned safely, you will take part in a television show we are producing—as the star!”

The digital man changed the channels on his television head once more, flipping from show to show and painting a clear picture of what he had in mind.  Each program was a reality show, from housewives to celebrities to pageants, and it made Libertas sick to her stomach.  Some of her friends in the modern world had tried to introduce her to the shows, but she had no idea how anyone could find them entertaining.  No matter the program, the cast always came off as arrogant simpletons, whether they were Hollywood elite or backwoods royalty, and they always complained about the slightest problems.  Such was her disdain that she had not spoken to Brutess for three days after the strongwoman made her sit through a marathon of Real Housewives of Tir na nOg.

“So, you want to give me a reality show?” asked Libertas, who could not hide the disgust in her eyes.  “You might have fallen off your rocker, Spyn, because I don’t see how that’s going to help you.”

“Oh, you shall see soon enough,” Doctor Spyn chortled devilishly.  “You are to meet myself and the producers tomorrow so we may begin preparations for your big debut.  Why don’t you go take the rest of the day off—we’ve a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.”

The heroine narrowed her eyes into slits before slamming a fist through the control panel beside the propagandist.  She pulled her fist out and pointed it at Doctor Spyn as she warned him, “I’ll go along with this cockamamie scheme of yours, Spyn, but as soon as Agent 75 is safe, I’m going to send you back to your Helkurrian masters in pieces.”

“We shall see, Lady Liberty,” the propagandist replied snidely, though his avatar was clearly sweating bullets.  He had received one too many beatings from the super-soldier, and hoped against hope that this would be the plot to do her in.

With her threat delivered, Lady Liberty stormed out of the recording studio, shoving aside any guards that dared to get in her way.  Doctor Spyn waited until she was out of hearing range before letting out a sigh and collapsing back in his chair.  Of all the super-beings he had faced since he was drafted to the Helkur Army, Lady Liberty was the one that terrified him the most—and for good reason.  He had seen her tear through an entire starship of stormtroopers to get at him, and that particular battle ended with him being jettisoned into the vacuum of space.  Though his peers still maintained some measure of denial about her capabilities, Spyn knew better than to underestimate her.

“Somebody get Professor Theophilus on the phone,” the digital man ordered one of his guards.  “I want to be sure that everything is ready for what’s to come.”

***

Libertas wished that Spyn and his lackeys had tried something while she was at the studio, as she was filled with anger and had nowhere to vent it.  After driving back into the city, she retreated to Dunphy’s Gym, which had equipment especially made for superhumans—even ones as powerful as she.  Of course, when she was in a mood, not even the most durable equipment in the universe could stand up to her, as the staff at Dunphy’s was about to find out.  Sandbags popped like balloons, jump-ropes twirled so fast that they melted under the friction, and medicine balls made of titadnium crumpled like paper, but Libertas’s mind was a thousand miles away.

Damn her for letting someone get so close to her!  Time and again, she would let people into her life, only to lose them at the hands of the diabolical forces of Helkur.  Faces from her past drifted through her mind as stark reminders of all she had doomed to death: the soldiers under Frédéric’s command; Rosie, her young ward in World War 2; Osprey, a criminal that she managed to bring to the light; and now, Lya Bartholdi.  She should have known better, fighting as she had for so very long, but she could not help herself; a soldier’s life was a lonely life, and she relished any opportunity to serve with others.  It was a vicious cycle that seemed to repeat forever, and Libertas often wondered if it would ever end.  Surely she deserved peacetime, right?

After paying for the hundreds of dollars in destroyed equipment, Libertas sulked back to her apartment for a shower to take her mind off Lya and stick to some semblance of a routine.  A scalding hot shower normally helped wash away her worries, but even as she stood under the cascade until it ran cold, she could not shake the dread that gnawed at her.  If neither heavy exercise nor a prolonged shower could help her, there was only one trick Libertas had left up her sleeve—Operation Comfy.

The super-soldier who had liberated countless people across two worlds and tore apart the shackles of tyranny slumped down on her couch as she turned on a movie for background noise.  She had slipped into a pair of sweatpants that were more like capris on her and a t-shirt that covered little more than her chest, both items borrowed from Lya.  In her hands were a soup spoon and a tub of rocky road ice cream, which she shoveled down her mouth without fear of brain freeze; perhaps not the most elegant way to recover, but it made do in a pinch.

***

The following day, after consuming two tubs of ice cream and passing out on her sofa, Libertas made her way out to the recording studio again.  She had gone without breakfast due to her stomach acting up, and the growling in her empty belly was only matched by the growl she gave when she saw Doctor Spyn and his cadre of producers.  The propagandist had a massive grin on his digital face, and it was all Libertas could do to not put her fist through the screen.

“Good morning, Lady Liberty!  I hope you slept well,” Spyn greeted her in his own, smarmy way.  “My men and I are going to iron out some of the details about your new hit show; you’re going to be a star before the day is done!”

Libertas looked over the producers with no small amount of disdain.  They were earthworms mutated into something resembling a human, though they lacked some of the finer features that would have completed the picture, like noses and lifeful eyes.  Besides being unsettling to look at, they were glorified yes men who did whatever their master told them; if Spyn told them to jump, they would jump as high as they could, no questions asked.  A producer was only a step up from being a lackey, as they often found themselves saddled with the tasks that Spyn did not want to do.  Libertas had squashed a good many of them in her time, and she might have felt sorry for them if they were not mindless drones.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Libertas huffed.  “The sooner we get this charade done, the sooner I can give you the beating you so richly deserve.”

“Patience, my lady.  There is much we have to discuss,” Doctor Spyn reminded the heroine.  “Now, the first thing we’ll need to do is change your living arrangements.  I’m sure you’re quite cozy in that little two-bedroom of yours, but we’ve secured a penthouse in SoHo that will work perfectly.  Next, we must get you a wardrobe update; your current ‘military brat’ look simply won’t go with what we have in mind.  Gentlemen, measurements.”

Two of the worm men approached Libertas with tape measures, and it was all she could do to not punch their shriveled heads off.  They were clumsy, gibbering fools, but at least she did not have to worry about any advances; the mutants were simply not programmed with a sex drive.  She just shut her eyes, clenched her fists, and counted down from 100 to keep from lashing out.

After taking her measurements, they chittered to Doctor Spyn, who remarked, “28-24-32…not bad, but we could certainly boost those numbers.  I shall forward your measurements to a few designers, and we’ll have you some new outfits by the end of the week!”

“I can’t wait,” Libertas grunted.  “What else?  You going to dye my hair blonde?  Want me to talk like a Valley Girl?”

The propagandist scoffed at the notion, which was followed by his producers imitating him.  Spyn rebutted, “Please, this isn’t the mid-2000s anymore; blondes don’t get to have all the fun anymore.  We’ll keep your hair the same color, though you’ll want to grow it out, style it, maybe add a little volume—our stylist can help with that.”

If Libertas was not sick to her stomach before this, she was absolutely nauseated now.  She knew she would have to make sacrifices to keep Lya safe, but hearing how much of her identity would be stripped away disgusted her.  In a way, this was worse than the other times she had been blackmailed into working for Helkur; at least when she pretended to be a villain, she got to look and live the way she wanted.  Lya’s safety was her only concern though, and she pushed her thoughts of her personal comfort aside yet again.

“Now, this is the most important part,” Doctor Spyn explained to Libertas.  “You will need to take a sabbatical from The Protectors: not only are you going to be far too busy with filming, but we’re going to set you up with a brand that you’re trying to launch.”

“And how do you expect me to do that, Spyn?” Libertas questioned.  “I am a soldier and I’ve been fighting for the last two hundred-fifty years; I don’t know the first thing about business.”

“We’ll give you the briefing on it, but you won’t be heavily involved with it at first—just enough to keep things interesting for the viewers,” answered the digital man.

She doubted if she would ever have a personal stake in this brand they were launching around her, but Libertas was too frustrated to ask or care.  The frustrated super-soldier rubbed the bridge of her nose to quell the headache building up and asked, “All right…when do we begin filming?”

“In a couple days, once we’ve lined everything up and gotten you into your new home,” said Spyn, who looked pleased as punch that she was being so agreeable.  He gestured for her to follow him back into the halls of the studio, which felt more like a rabbit hole for Libertas than anything else.  “For now, let’s take a look at some wardrobe and décor choices—we’ll want to make a good first impression when ‘Life with Libby’ goes live!”

[Batman76]

Interesting, but I'm not sure what the expy is of. I see some captain america, some america Chavez, anyone else?

[Cyril Figgis]

1 minute ago, Batman76 said:

Interesting, but I'm not sure what the expy is of. I see some captain america, some america Chavez, anyone else?

Mostly Captain America with a few shots of New Gods mixed in.  Kind of what I imagine Cap would have been like if Simon and Kirby created him in the late 60s/early 70s, when they were going heavy on the sci-fi weirdness.

[Cyril Figgis]

LADY LIBERTY, PART 2

Thanks to Doctor Spyn’s media connections, word traveled fast about Lady Liberty’s transition from superhero to reality star and, within hours, it was all anyone could talk about.  More than an impending invasion from Ganymede, more than a corrupt governor poisoning his political rivals, even more than the return of Super Laika, everyone wanted to know why a champion of justice and freedom would suddenly drop everything.  She remained silent in the days ahead, dropping off the face of the world at the behest of her enemies and allowing an agent to speak for her, though the answers were all the same.  If people wanted to know, they had to tune in for her new show—hence, the premiere of ‘Life with Libby’ was the most watched premiere of all time on both Earth and Edinnu.

Millions were glued to their screens as a montage of Libertas’s greatest battles played out: leading the charge against the forces of Helkur with Rosie at her side and The Merlin flying overhead; standing tall amidst the rubble that was the Protectors Homestead; fending off a frenzied, hallucinogen-fueled mob in New York City.  Interspersed throughout were shots of the patriotic heroine hanging up her fabled torch, shield, and crown while her back was turned to the camera, and her familiar, captivating voice played over the footage.

“My name is Libertas nu Eleutheria, but you know me better as ‘Lady Liberty’.  I hail from a war-torn world called Edinnu, the fourth planet of the Rykib System, where I have been fighting since I was old enough to hold a weapon.  I have fought battles across entire galaxies and defended Earth and Edinnu for close to three hundred years, and I’ve done it all with pride and honor.  But there comes a time when every soldier needs to retire, when they cannot take the strain of war any longer.  For me, that time is now, but it raises an even bigger question—who is Libertas without a war to fight?”

The bronzed warrior finally turned, and it was the audience’s first glimpse at the new and ‘improved’ Libertas.  For the first time in what felt like decades, she was wearing make-up, and not just a light layer for formal affairs.  Libertas looked like a movie star or model: eye shadow and mascara bringing out her piercing green eyes, concealer adding a sensual sharpness to her face, and rosy lipstick that gave her lips a fullness that was never there before.  Her amber locks had been straightened and given extensions, which fell to her shoulder blades—another first for the once spartan heroine.  No one would have ever called Libertas ugly, but the vision that appeared before them was on another level.

“I want you to come along with me as I find out,” Libertas told the audience with a stunning grin that showed her teeth had been straightened and bleached pearly white.  “But please, don’t call me Libertas anymore—call me Libby!  Welcome to the first day of my new life!”

The backlash on social media was swift and savage, with thousands denigrating the show and Libertas for selling out her principles for a swift buck.  A slim few were positive and cautiously optimistic about her new direction, but the vast majority could not believe that their hero would do this.  Despite the vehement response, the viewers could not turn off their TVs as the episode played on, detailing the patriotic heroine’s ‘trials and tribulations’ that made her seem like a clueless imbecile.  It was like watching a disaster in progress; no one could look away.

If only her naysayers could see her behind the scenes, they might not have been so swift to judge her.  Libertas had done a good many things she regretted in her life, but having to pretend to be something she was not was one of the worst.  Though she plastered on a starlet grin every time the cameras were facing her, it turned to a sour scowl the second she was off the screen.  After all, Doctor Spyn could force her to star in this farce of a show, but he could not make her enjoy it.

It started with the penthouse that he had arranged for her.  While some people would have been ecstatic at getting to live in such a luxurious space, Libertas found the whole setup to be tacky and hollow.  She was used to living a spartan style, not surrounded by glitz and glamour; having something like an indoor fountain went completely against her usual taste in decorum.  Not a single item from her old apartment made its way to the penthouse, as Spyn insisted that her old aesthetic did not fit with the new look he had in mind for her.  Instead, his production team filled the loft with opulent decorations that were more fitting for Beverly Hills than Brooklyn.

Then came her wardrobe, which had been swapped out from top to bottom.  Libertas owned few dresses, mostly formal wear, but the propagandists were able to line up sponsorships with the top designers, who leapt at the chance to have a superhero wear their brand.  As such, her jeans and t-shirt style was swapped out in favor of fashionable skirts, blouses, and dresses that cost more than her old apartment.  She was given shoes that were more expensive than the average car, jackets that would make even the Black Turtle faint at the price, and jewelry that would be more fitting on a princess.

The worst part was how isolated she felt from her usual circles.  Per Spyn’s instructions, she had taken a leave from the Protectors and could not explain her actions to anyone, lest any harm be brought to Lya.  The move across town had also denied Libertas the pleasure of her friends and neighbors in her community, from the old lady two floors below to the delicatessen owner down the street.  Cut off from her comrades in arms and her old social circle, the brunette was instead shaking hands and mingling with corporate types and sleazy producers—the sort she used to rally against.  It was enough to make her sick, and she had to fight the urge to punch her way out of every meeting Spyn arranged for her.

Without her usual outlets for venting her frustrations, Libertas turned to the one source of comfort that Doctor Spyn could not deprive her of—food.  She had taken to eating a cheat meal whenever she had a frustrating day of filming, and since that was every day, the super-soldier found herself gorging aplenty.  The penthouse was kept stocked with all sorts of goodies she could indulge in, which was quite possibly the only positive to the place; she could have the pantry and fridge stocked with whatever she desired.  If she ate at one of the upscale restaurants for an episode, she could have whatever she wanted—it was all on Spyn’s dime anyway.  Libertas was fast becoming a foodie with how much she consumed, but as with every overindulgence, there were consequences…

“Oh, give me a break,” the brunette hissed at her capris one morning.  “Don’t you dare do this to me, or I will tear you like a sheet.”

The soldier that had fought through literal Hell and back was currently waging a losing battle against an enemy she had never encountered before—the button snap on her pants.  Try as she might to join the two ends together, the material simply would not give; she would have an easier time getting a camel through the eye of a needle.  The problem was that a good layer of soft adipose had formed at her hips, and it ate up so much space in the designer pants that there was no way she could squeeze them shut.  She gritted her teeth and tried with all her might, but that only resulted in her tearing them apart as though they were held on with Velcro.

“Damn it all,” Libertas growled as she held up the shreds of clothing.  “Is this how Brutess feels?”

Stripping out of the scraps that clung to her thighs and calves, the patriotic heroine took a long look in her dressing mirror to assess the damage.  Her recent caloric intake spike had done a number on her once hard, firm body, particularly below the belt, as evidenced by the remnants of her pants.  Libertas pinched at her hips and rolled an inch of pudge in her fingers, wincing when she realized that she had ‘saddlebags’, as Lya had once said.  Her quads, once hard and firm enough to crush cannonballs, had grown soft and spongy to the touch, and patting them sent a gelatinous ripple through them.  A quick glance behind her revealed that her toned backside was not spared, as soccer ball-sized cheeks gobbled up the Brazilian panties she had slipped into.

Though her hips had taken the brunt of her gain, that was not to say that the rest of Libertas’s body went unaffected.  Her rock solid abs had melted like butter and puffed into a cushioned stomach that she could actually sink a finger into, and her breasts had grown plump and full like ripe fruit.  If she flexed her arms, she could just make out her biceps, but those too were coated in a fine layer of fluff that made them appear untoned.  Even the sharp features of her face were filling out, decreasing the severity of her glare and stripping away some of the fierceness she had developed over the centuries.

“I need to get out and work some off some of this fluff,” Libertas remarked to herself as she turned from side to side and examined her form.  “Maybe I can sneak off and get a workout in before we have to roll out to the next shoot; nothing in my agreement with Spyn can keep me from exercising.”

The softening soldier squeezed herself into an olive green tracksuit and made her way to the front door, only to be stopped by one of her assistants.  The young woman shook her head and told her, “Sorry, Miss Eleutheria, but you’re not going to want to go out.”

“And why’s that?” Libertas asked with a furrowed brow.  “I’m no prisoner; I can leave if I want.”

The meek assistant withered under the harsh glare and whimpered, “W-Well, it’s just…the paparazzi are particularly bad today.”

A few taps on her tablet and the girl pulled up security footage of the building, revealing that not only was there a crowd of cameramen waiting outside—some were even hovering right outside her door.  Libertas gawked at the gathering before clapping a hand against her forehead, grunting, “Why can’t they just leave me alone for once?  All I want is to go for a jog!”

“If you want, I could order some exercise equipment for the penthouse,” the assistant offered in an effort to avoid the heroine’s ire.

“Would you please?” asked Libertas after she took a deep breath.  She needed something to take her mind off things besides eating, otherwise she would wind up as big as a house by the time this show was done filming.

With her chance of a brief escape dashed, the heroine sulked her way over to her luxury sofa and lay out on her stomach.  This was one of the few perks of the luxury lifestyle that Libertas enjoyed, even if she might not admit it to herself—quality furniture.  She had always said that she was comfiest with a cot and a sleeping bag, but the first time she had slept in her new bed, she wondered how she had ever lived without it.  All her worries and stress seemed to melt away in the soft cushions of her couch, and if she ever got out from Spyn’s thumb, she would be sure to swipe this for her apartment.

Just as she felt herself slipping into slumber, Libertas was roused by another assistant arriving with a large bag in hand.  The young man held it up and said, “Miss Eleutheria?  Your Chinese is here.  Should I set the table?”

“Yes, please,” Libertas replied as she rolled off the couch, fueled by the smell of moo goo gai pan and crab Rangoon.

***

As the former Lady Liberty tucked into her lunch, Doctor Spyn was busy providing an update on his latest scheme to his colleagues.  The digital man stood in front of a series of monitors that streamed several different members of the High Helkurrian Council: Count Stavro XIII, the latest in a long line of power-hungry conquerors; Blackbeard, a fearsome space pirate who commanded Helkur’s vast armada; Mother Meiai, who indoctrinated children into the Helkur regime; her partner, Professor Theophilus, whose mastery of psychology had brainwashed countless people; and the Black Death, a master assassin who was responsible for wiping out thousands upon thousands of Edinnusians.

“If you will review the information I’ve sent, you will see that my plan to denigrate Lady Liberty is working even better than expected,” Spyn informed his peers.  “‘Cancel Lady Liberty’, in one form or another, has been trending for the last several weeks, yet our ratings remain as high as ever.  People cannot get enough of seeing their hero becoming just another capitalist cog; it’s almost too easy!”

“Still think we should have lured her to the agent and jettisoned the both of them into space,” Blackbeard grunted.  “Why go through all this trouble if we’re just going to kill them in the end?”

“Because if we kill her now, her death will only serve to make her a martyr,” Theophilus explained, as he so often had, to his trigger-happy comrade.  “But if we strip away all that makes people idolize her, then the hope she has inspired will die with her.”

Mother Meiai added, “And the more we prolong this, the more her image is smeared.  Why, we could make it so people only ever remember her as some vain prima donna!”

“Hear, hear!” Stavro echoed.  “As my father always said, ‘An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again, but—‘”

“Cor, shut it with the dad quotes, Stavro,” Blackbeard grunted at the dictator.  “We’ve all heard it a million times, for the love of Satan!”

Before the two could bicker, the Black Death cleared his throat and silenced everyone.  The assassin, clad in plague doctor attire, asked, “What else have you done to cripple her image?  You cannot destroy a woman like her simply by making her live the life of a debutante; you must do something else to make sure no one will ever want to emulate her.”

Doctor Spyn answered, “I am glad you asked, sir.  You might have noticed that Libertas has softened up over the last few weeks of filming due to us cutting back on her exercise and keeping her kitchen stocked with all of her favorite foods.  This has been good at undoing some of her fighting image, but our next step is going to really ramp it up…”

***

“Another sponsorship?  I already do so much product placement that I’m starting to feel like a racecar,” Libertas contested to her insidious producer over the phone.

“But I think you’ll like this one, my lady,” the propagandist explained. “It’s about fitness!”

“Enlighten me,” the heroine replied, deciding to humor her captor.

“Well, some of the PAs have told me that you’ve talking about getting into shape, and as fate would have it, I have a sponsor who specializes in supplements to help with exercise!  All protein shakes, vitamin slushies, that sort of thing.  Plenty of influencers promote this sort of stuff on their channels and platforms, so why shouldn’t you?  This is a great opportunity for us and for you,” Doctor Spyn told his reluctant cash cow.

Libertas was prepared to protest, but she was cut off by her tormentor reminding her, “Don’t forget—you need to go along with whatever we pitch for the series.  I’m going to have a shipment of supplement shakes sent to the penthouse, and I want you to start doing some quick videos for our Instachat page.  It’s going to do big numbers!”

The heroine did not have to wait long for the supply to arrive; a vending machine’s worth of bottles was carted into the penthouse that afternoon.  She inspected one of the bottles for any signs of foul play, yet could not see anything off in the ingredients.  Without any other way to test its quality, Libertas cracked open the drink and took a tentative sip of the smooth, creamy shake.  It had a very tropical taste to it—some citrus, a little banana, maybe a hint of coconut—but a little grit in there that hinted at extra protein mixed in.  She took longer sip, found it was even better than the first, and then downed half the bottle in one gulp.

“If it tastes this good, I almost don’t mind sponsoring it,” Libertas remarked as she looked over the bottle.  “I’ll need to be careful with it though—no telling what it’ll really do.”

Satisfied for the time being, Libertas returned to the couch with the shake in hand and grabbed her tablet to catch up on the latest news.  She tried to keep abreast of current events, but as of late, her thoughts were turned elsewhere for entertainment—anything to keep herself sane during this extended torture.  Though she had often turned her nose up at it, she found herself drifting to the latest news from the gossip columns, like who was dating who, how this singer had been arrested and that movie star had a wardrobe malfunction, and other assorted fluff pieces.  It might not have been highbrow, but with how agitated she was, she needed something to cool down with.

As she read, she finished up the rest of the shake, and it was not long before the effects began to take effect.  Libertas let out a long yawn and stretched her soft arms over her head, her tank top riding up to reveal a sliver of plush stomach.  She felt sluggish, like she had just finished running a 5k at full speed, and could not bear the thought of getting up.  The couch felt so nice, like she could just sink into the cushions and drift away, and only the call of an assistant kept her from drifting off.

“Miss Eleutheria?  Lunch is ready,” the young man told her.

Libertas blearily gazed up at the assistant and stifled another yawn as she asked, “Would you be a dear and bring it over here?  I’m feeling a little drained this afternoon.”

“Right away, ma’am,” the assistant replied before rushing off to gather up the heroine’s Italian lunch.  He returned shortly thereafter with shrimp scampi, a caprese salad, and garlic bread atop a TV tray, which he set up over Libertas’s lap.

“Thank you so much,” the soldier hummed as she turned on the TV and zoned out to a home improvement show, ignoring how she was eating her lunch faster than usual…

[Batman76]

Oh fuck this is good. Are those the same shakes from the first chapter?

[Cyril Figgis]

33 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Oh fuck this is good. Are those the same shakes from the first chapter?

Could be! Supervillains love to borrow/steal from each other, after all.

[Cyril Figgis]

LADY LIBERTY, PART 3

As the season ticked along and filming continued, Libertas developed a sort of tolerance to her current peril.  She would never willingly admit it, but she could be in a far worse place: the penthouse, despite being large and gaudy, was still the nicest place she had ever lived; she did not have to worry about fighting criminals and warmongers on a regular basis; most importantly of all, she finally had other people to wait on her.  Sometimes, she wondered how she had ever gotten by without personal assistants; they were simply indispensable, especially after a long day of filming.

“Good afternoon, Miss Eleutheria,” one of the helpers greeted the heroine as she sauntered in after one such day.  “How was production today?”

Libertas groaned as she allowed the assistant to take her coat off, “Terrible.  They had me sitting in business meetings all day long, which would be fine except that I don’t do anything once filming my scenes ends.  After the cameras turn off, they get down to brass tacks on their own, and I’m just sitting there on my phone with nothing to do.”

“That sounds rough,” the helper agreed politely.  “I hate to bother you in such a state, but you do still have a video you need to film for your Instachat.”

God, the Instachat.  Why did she ever let Doctor Spyn talk her into setting up a page on that accursed site?  It was just another way to make her a target for derision; every video of picture set she posted was met with hundreds of bile-filled comments.  If it was not people disappointed in and hateful of her, it was perverts talking about what they would do to her, and it never seemed to end.  The only way she could keep herself going was by telling herself that it was all for a very good cause—advertisers.

Wait.  No, she was doing this all for Lya.  Libertas gave herself a sharp slap across the face to clear her head and focus on what really mattered—the only reason she weathered this humiliation.  With how caught up she had become in this farce of a production, she found herself forgetting that sometimes, which brought the guilt bubbling up in her mind like crude oil and drove her to snacking.  Of course, she was snacking plenty anyways, with or without being reminded of Lya’s predicament; this was just one more cause for it.

“I’m going to get changed for the video,” the brunette told the confused assistant as she strode towards her bedroom.  “Could you have someone fix up a snack and a shake for me while I’m busy?”

“Of course, Miss Eleutheria, and I shall have a make-up artist come up to help cover up that mark,” the helper added, noting the red palm print that formed on Libertas’s cheek.

“I’ll take care of it myself, thank you,” she replied.  “I’m getting quite good at it.”

That was true.  Makeup had been a foreign concept to her for the longest time, but ever since she had been forced into this show, she found herself drawn to it much more as time went on.  She was amazed at what the artists on the crew could do and decided to try some at home so she would have something to do during the downtime between filming.  Now that she was putting it on all the time, Libertas wondered how anyone had ever let her go out without even a little foundation.  When she got out of this mess, she would need to invest in some supplies for home.

“I wonder what Lya would like,” Libertas mumbled to herself as she sat down at her vanity and cleaned off much of what she’d been wearing for shooting.  No sense in working out with her ‘business’ face on; she was in her home gym, not an office.

After doing a slight touchup job, the brunette sauntered to her walk-in closet, oblivious to the wobble that emanated from her hips.  Her demeanor was changing little by little as the days ticked by and she became more accustomed to this starlet lifestyle, a little more sultriness slipping into her poise and posture as the soldier lifestyle was left in the dust.  With a little more practice, Libertas would have the practiced walk of a model, if not the physique.

Living in the lap of luxury was slowly sapping the super-soldier of her iron will and body, replacing it with the plush form and mindset of a pampered housecat.  Her strong, pronounced jaw was now swaddled in a fine layer of fluff that gave her dimpled cheeks and a double chin at the slightest nod.  Biceps that could crush metal were degenerating into pliable pudge and were used more for lifting silverware these days than anything substantial.  Once modest breasts had ballooned over the course of the season, and all her new outfits played up her development by making sure they were pushed up and out on display.  All this was a stark change from the toned physique Libertas used to sport, but it only got worse lower down her body.

Abs that could have shredded paper were long gone, replaced by a doughy gut that drooped down from her waist like a dollop of cream.  It was a gooey potbelly that still held some firmness, but the more her core muscles relaxed, the more it pooched out.  Worse still were her hips, which had grown wide and soft from her inactivity and overeating.  They had developed past the point where Libertas could rest her arms straight at her sides; now, she could only keep them at an angle.  The wobbly saddlebags at her waist led around to a bubbly backside that looked like two basketballs crammed together, and only her new exercise regiment kept them from sagging like her belly. 

Add in her thunder thighs that thrashed together clear to her knees, and no one would ever suspect she was once one of the most powerful heroines on the planet.  Libertas knew that she was filling out faster than humanly or otherworldly possible, but she also knew that she had to keep playing this game until she could secure Lya.  Once that was done, she could crush Doctor Spyn like a grape, rebuild the people’s trust in her, and work all these excess pounds off.  After all, she had been statuesque for the last two hundred-odd years—how hard could it be to lose weight?

The blubbery brunette put aside any thoughts of tomorrow in favor of putting her best face forward for her audience.  Spyn and his producers gave her notes on how she should behave whenever she was on camera or posting, and Libertas reluctantly took to it like a fish to water.  Gone was the sharp wit and firm moral fiber she was known for, replaced by a ditzy, irresponsible party girl that seemed to have no idea that everyone hated her.  It irked her to no end that no one could see through the obvious charade and bought right into Spyn’s propaganda, but what could she do?  Besides, all that mattered was getting Lya free—not what the little people thought of her.

“What to wear, what to wear?” Libertas mumbled to herself as she looked over her workout clothes.  She had a wide range from nearly every major sporting goods company in the world, plus a few designers that wanted their name attached to the heroine, and so many choices made it difficult for her to pick.  When the sea of selections began to overwhelm her, the softening soldier threw her arms down and called out, “Becky!”

Instantly, a bespectacled girl appeared at the closet with a tablet in one hand and a shake in the other.  She pushed her glasses back up with a free finger and asked, “Yes, Miss Eleutheria?”

“I have to do a little workout video, but I’m having a hard time picking out an outfit,” Libertas mused.  “Should I go with a green top and black leggings?  Maybe that yellow tank and the blue shorts—or would that be a little too summery?  Black on black might work, but that just seems so drab.”

The bookish assistant glanced at the variety of clothes on hand and replied, “Well, I could take a look and pick something if you’d like.  Oh, and here’s your Knarp Shake.”

“Oh, you’re a doll,” cooed the brunette as she graciously accepted the shake. “I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes, Becky.”

“It’s my pleasure to assist you, Miss Eleutheria,” the girl replied as she began sorting through the workout gear.  “But it’s ‘Becca’, if you don’t mind.”

Libertas blinked dumbly for a moment as she recalled that Becca had told her that before—several times, in fact.  She took a sip from her shake and mumbled, “Sorry, Becca.  I’m sure you’ve told me that before; it must have slipped my mind.”

Becca waved off the apology and told her, “Think nothing of it.  I know you’ve got a lot on your plate—what’s one assistant’s name when you’re the star of your own show?”

It meant a lot more to the heroine than Becca might have guessed.  Libertas prided herself on knowing everyone she worked with, from the soldiers on the front lines to the support staff at the Protector Ranch.  It was so unlike her to forget someone’s name more than once; the only time she screwed up a name would be to taunt a criminal.  If she was slipping up on names, then she was clearly softening in other areas besides her body—and she refused to let that happen.

***

“Hey guys!  Thanks for joining me today for a little yoga today.  It’s been such a stressful day of filming, and I need to unwind and stretch out.  Oh, and before I forget: today’s video is sponsored by Bellezza, who made this cute, chic top; if you want any of my ensemble, go to the link in the description and enter the code ‘LIBBY’ for 15% off your first purchase!”

Libertas died a little inside at the spiel she had to read out at the start of every video, but it was what the producers wanted and she was in no position to argue.  Instead, she plopped her bubble butt down on her yoga mat and crossed her legs under her—something that used to be very easy to do but was becoming increasingly difficult as her exercise dwindled down to nothing.  Her thighs and calves dwarfed her feet and eclipsed them from view, and she had to fight the urge to adjust her top as it showed far more cleavage than she would have preferred.  At least when she sat facing the camera, it hid how her tights sank into her meaty backside.

“We’re just going to keep it nice and simple today, for those of us that have had a hard day,” Libertas told her audience.  “Now, start by breathing in and out, rolling your shoulders in time.”

She demonstrated for the ‘fans’, rolling her shoulders around and gently tilting her head from side to side with each breath.  It would have been a nice, meditative experience, were it not for the way her breasts rose and fell with each rotation, their heft distracting her.  Switching to turning from side to side should have been better, but whenever she turned, her tummy bunched up and her shirt rolled up to reveal her thickening, juicy love handles.

“O-Okay, now for some basic stretches and forms,” Libertas huffed as she rocked herself around to sit on her hands and knees.  She tried to keep herself as straight as a board, but feeling her gut drooping down caused her to unconsciously slouch her back and made her look more like a farm animal than a fitness instructor.

The heroine tried to redeem herself by stretching out her long legs behind her, but the slightest movement sent soft ripples through her thunder thighs and reminded people of how far Libertas had fallen.  When she rose up little by little to a standing position, she found herself getting out of breath; by the time she was doing her lunges, her cheeks were rosy with exertion.  Despite being a very basic yoga routine, the unfit super-soldier found herself needing to catch her breath by the end.

“So, that’ll do it for today,” the brunette grunted as she lightly dabbed her forehead with a towel and acted like she had run a 5k.  “I’ll see you all in the next video, and remember to get your discount with Bellezza.  This is Libby, signing off!”

Once she shut the camera off, Libertas let out a long sigh and allowed her belly to expand to its full potential.  She grabbed her shake from where the weight bench where she left it—not like she would be using it anytime soon—and chugged the rest of it down before walking out of the gym.  On her way to the master bath to get cleaned up, the heftier heroine passed by Becca and told her, “Becky, I’m going to take a shower.  Tell the staff to start getting dinner ready; I’m famished tonight.”

“Right away, Miss Eleutheria,” Becca replied before darting away, ignoring the fact that Libertas got her name wrong for the third time that day.

***

Deep in the confines of his studio headquarters, Doctor Spyn toasted Professor Theophilus, who had made a rare trip from Helkur to visit his compatriot in crime.  The balding psychologist was older and far heftier than his digital partner, but he was built like a wrestler—barrel chest, powerful arms, and hands the size of catcher’s mitts.  He was once a Turkish doctor who swore allegiance to Helkur during World War II and was gifted with dark and terrible skills that could manipulate the mind of any man.  With his mastery of psychology, he proved to be a valuable asset for the Axis and proved to be the devil for the Allies until Libertas crushed his efforts.  Theophilus battled her time and again since their first encounter on the European front, but he always came up short until now.

“I must say, Spyn, in all my years of devilry, I have never seen a plan work so well,” Theophilus chortled as he drank from a glass of lamb’s blood.  “Who knew that all it would take to depose Lady Liberty was to make her a celebrity?”

“It’s ingenious, I know,” Spyn replied, a cocky smirk on his digitized lips.  “Of course, I could never have done this alone.  After I found out how Reb Rascal humiliated Defensor’s little sidekick, I reached out to her to get some of her supplies—and when she turned me down, I simply located her stash and stole everything she had.  And may I say, your part has been nothing short of brilliant.”

The balding man guffawed and clapped a meaty hand on his gut.  “Please, dear boy, I owe this latest inspiration to you!  I’ll admit to being in something of a rut creatively, but when you approached me with this new plan, it got the old nogging working again.  It’s a shame you were not around for the war; we could have been an unstoppable pair.”

“Indeed, my friend, indeed,” the cyborg sighed wistfully.  “Now, tell me—how is our prisoner?  Is she ready to perform her role?”

“Almost—it’s taken some time to get through her F.E.E.D. training, but we’re close to breaking her,” Theophilus answered proudly. 

Try as they might, no secret agent remained strong under his interrogation; they all cracked sooner or later.  Agent 75 had been no exception: though she held out longer than most, she was near the edge of her sanity.  He had been subjecting her to a unique brand of torture during her tenure, as he inundated her with footage of her partner and lover turning into a bloated mockery of herself.  The captured agent was helpless as she was assaulted with messages telling her to hate Lady Liberty, that she had ignored her and left her for dead.  Only when she truly believed that would he unleash her on the world, her newfound disdain for Libertas breaking any remaining hope in the heroine.

“Excellent,” Doctor Spyn snickered.  “I cannot wait for her to make her big debut on Life with Libby; I can already smell the ratings spike!”

“We’ll just need to be careful that she does not attack Libertas too soon—you’ll want to save her revenge for the series finale,” Theophilus jested while nudging Spyn in the ribs and shared in his insidious laughter.

***

While the two devious dictators shared a laugh and drink over their enemy’s demise, Lya Bartholdi was strapped to a chair inside an asteroid prison billions of miles away from Earth.  Her eyes were forced open and watched as the latest episode of Life with Libby played while countless social media posts danced around her peripheral.  She could see Libertas struggling with yoga while dozens decried and mocked her, and she watched as her once mighty lover went shopping for clothes that cost more than their old apartment did.  The high definition ensured that she got to see every inch of Libertas’s softening figure in full detail, from her budding cankles to the pocks of cellulite on her thighs.

And, despite Theophilus’s best efforts to convince her otherwise, Lya loved what she saw.  While she adored Libertas before, she would be lying if she said that her new physique did not make her thighs squirm.  The way the super-soldier jiggled with every step, her chest threatening to bounce out of her necklines and her booty wobbling like gelatin, sent shivers down Lya’s spine like never before.  Whenever she had curled up beside Libertas before, she wished there was something more to cuddle and rest against than hard muscle—and now, she finally had it.

No amount of hateful, disparaging messages could turn her against Libertas; in fact, each reminder of what a pig she had become only strengthened that desire.  Lya wished desperately that she could be there to feel the change in her girlfriend’s body, to sink her fingers into that belly and play her butt like bongos.  Just thinking about getting her head squished between those thighs made her drool, and that was before imagining what waited at the top of those pillars of pudge.  She wanted to explore every new inch of the lardy Lady Liberty, and there was no brainwashing that could take that from her.

“Libby, ne mange pas tout ce gâteau,” she mumbled deliriously as she watched Libertas gorging on cake at a socialite’s birthday party.  “Toutes ces calories iront à vos cuisses, petite gourmande.  Oh, tu vas manger plus?  Attends-moi, petit cochon.  J'ai hâte de te bourrer comme une oie.”

[Cyril Figgis]

LADY LIBERTY, PART 4

It had been a quiet afternoon in Libertas’s penthouse as her staff enjoyed a brief moment of respite while their boss was out filming.  That peace was broken when Becca checked her phone and called out, “Okay, everyone, places!  Hari just said Lardy’s on her way up.”

Instantly, the staff broke out into a frenzy as they made sure the penthouse was ready for their employer’s return.  When they were first brought on, it had been a very simple job; Libertas was so independent and did not want to make any trouble for them.  As time went on though, the woman formerly known as Lady Liberty demanded more and more from her assistants until even the slightest infraction earned a verbal lashing.  It had gotten to the point that they kept track of their boss just to make sure they were prepared for her, lest they be caught with their proverbial pants down.

Thankfully for the beleaguered assistants, Libertas was not nearly as spry as she used to be, so they had plenty of time to get ready.  They were alerted to her presence by the sound of heavy footfalls in the hallway outside the front door, like a T-rex drawing ever closer, until they came to a stop.  Her driver opened the door for her and stepped aside, allowing the expansive super-soldier to saunter into her penthouse with all the grace of a queen and the speed of a tortoise.

The last several months had not been kind to Libertas’s figure, as her rock-hard body had been blanketed under a good two hundred pounds of flab.  She tried to hold out at first, but as the responsibilities Doctor Spyn imposed on her grew more tiresome, she embraced a lazier, pampered lifestyle to cope with her situation.  Gone were the workout sessions that would have made exhausted an Olympian, replaced instead by binging soap operas and game shows from the comfort of her luxury sofa.  Her modest, healthy diet had been replaced by lavish meals that were rich, heavy, and loaded with an entire day’s worth of calories in a single plate.  There was seemingly nothing left of the well-disciplined veteran; by all accounts, she had embraced her new role to its fullest.

“My dinner had better be ready, Becky, or heads will roll,” Libertas huffed, her chipmunk cheeks splotchy and red just from waddling from the elevator to her door.  “The meeting went well over the allotted time, and the director insisted on doing these pointless reshoots.  Honestly!”

“The chef is just putting the finishing touches on some steak au poivre, Miss Eleutheria,” Becca replied to her needy boss.  “And don’t worry, I’ve asked him to make double portions just in case.”

If she expected any gratitude from the elephantine woman, she would be disappointed.  Libertas rolled her eyes as she held her arms out for another assistant to take her coat for her and scoffed, “Good—you must have learned after the last three times you forgot to remind them.”

After living the good life for so long, Libertas might have wondered how she could have ever lived so meagerly, were her mind not occupied with other matters.  She might have turned up her nose at getting extra helpings of decadent meals in the past, but now, she could not imagine going without another helping of eggs benedict swimming in hollandaise.  Now that she had a taste of the finer things the culinary world had to offer, she never wanted to go back to subsisting on turkey sandwiches, protein bars, and chicken salads.

Her blubbery mess of a body spoke to her newfound indulgences.  Libertas was clad in a sleeveless turtleneck dress that was meant to be chic and figure-hugging, but stretched as it was, it looked like it was painted on.  It started up at her neck, where her thick double chin oozed out and over the collar, making her head look like a scoop of ice cream oozing over its cone.  The dress was designed to have sleeves, but after trying to squeeze her ham hock arms into them caused the material to tear, they had been removed, allowing her flabby biceps to wobble freely.  She had three bracelets on both arms and no less than six rings at all times, all of which had been resized four times to fit her plump fingers and wrists.

With how bloated her breasts had become, it was hard to imagine a time when they had ever been modest, let alone petite.  The pendulous globes had soaked up calories like a sponge since Doctor Spyn’s plan had begun, and were now hefty melons that quivered from the slightest movement.  They had grown to the point that Libertas required custom bras, something that she never would have dreamed of previously but could not live without now.  What made them worse was the fact that their weight plagued her the weaker she grew, to the point that the super-soldier who had once dragged a tank up a mountain now complained constantly about how much her shoulders and back strained.  Were it not for her morning massages, she had no idea how she would make it through the day.

Those hefty breasts were perched atop a belly that bobbled from side to side with every pathetic step she took, like some sort of pendulum made of flab.  Ever-increasing portions and a palate aimed towards the rich and savory had turned abs that could shred paper into a gut that did not know the meaning of a ‘sit-up’.  Only through the saving grace of the olive green fabric did the jelly belly have any perkiness to it; otherwise, it would have hung low enough to completely obscure her crotch and then some.  As it was, her dress left nothing to the imagination, making her belly button perfectly visible and clinging to her thick love handles like static.

Of course, all her gains from the waist up paled in comparison to the blubber that encapsuled her hips and legs.  Libertas’s hips had taken an enormous brunt of her gain, growing to the point that she had to angle herself to get through normal doors, but even that was becoming unfeasible as her rump billowed out.  A booty that had once been shapely yet firm had grown flabby and weak, losing their perfect roundness but still increasing their girth.  Her dress was so tight around the untoned flesh that one could almost make out the cellulite that speckled her backside, thought they might have been distracted with how her thigh chub coated her knees.  Thick cankles sprouted out of her designer shoes, which, like her jewelry, had to be constantly resized to fit her pudgy piggy feet.

“Becky, do I have time for a bath before dinner?  I desperately need a soak after such an exhausting day,” Libertas whined as she waddled through the penthouse.  Though she was talking to Becca, her eyes never once left her phone; she could only afford to give a fraction of her attention to her beleaguered assistant.

“I don’t think so, Miss Eleutheria,” Becca answered, only to quickly add, “but I can have Renee draw up a foot bath and a quick massage for you!  Would you like me to see about getting you some snacks while you’re relaxing!”

Libertas hummed, “Of course—it’s not a massage if you don’t have some treats.  Be a dear and see if we have any more of those dark chocolate strawberries, but make sure that they remove the leaves this time.  And tell Renee to bring the charcoal cream this time; I think the eucalyptus blend made my feet swell out of my Jimmy Choos the other day.”

“I’ll get right on it, ma’am,” Becca replied before walking off to alert her fellow assistants.  She grimaced at the sight of Libertas toddling along to the couch, where she would remain parked for the rest of the evening.  After having her foot massage, she would say that her feet were too tender to walk to the table, so her dinner should be brought to her.  And to think, the bulbous brunette had once managed to place first in the New York Marathon while carrying her torch and shield to boot.

After plodding along with all the speed of a ** hippo, Libertas reached the couch and plopped her expansive rear down in her usual spot—noted for the divot that stretched across two cushions.  The weakened warrior fanned herself with one of her meatball hands in an effort to cool down after such a strenuous walk, and then reached for a cool shake waiting for her on the side table.  She had become so thoroughly hooked on the fattening milkshakes that the porky patriot could not make it a few hours without having at least one.  Many had tried to find her weakness over the last two centuries; none could have predicted it would come from a blender.

All of Libertas’s worries washed away as her favorite soap opera played out in front of her, and the eventual foot massage would only make things better.  She knew what everyone was saying about her—that she had gotten lazy, that she was just some spoiled, rich diva—but they had no idea how exhausting it was to be Libby Eleutheria.  None of them had ever had to headline one of the most watched shows on television, launch their own clothing line, or develop a top-selling makeup app, so who were they to judge her?  It was getting so that she was busier now than she had ever been when she was fighting crime, which felt like a lifetime ago rather than half a year.

Crime-fighting…the thought of those bygone days tugged at her memory as if trying to dredge up something forgotten.  Libby scrunched her brow as she tried to recall what was missing, only to draw a blank every time she got close.  Something with the Protectors?  No, she had not been in contact with them since she resigned.  F.E.E.D.?  They had been radio silent for months.  The little nag was growing increasingly frustrating, and it was sure to spoil her evening if she did not figure it out soon. 

Just as she was about to call Becca to help her resolve this, she saw a commercial for a 75 cent value meal at High Castle Burger.  The gears in her brain suddenly whirred with activity and she snapped her sausage fingers as realization dawned on her.  She exclaimed, “The launch of Libertad at Club 75!”

How could she have possibly forgotten the season finale of her show?  To coincide with the end of the season, they were going to have a launch party for her new brand of tequila at the illustrious Club 75 on West 54^th Street.  The producers had arranged a star-studded guest list, top musical acts, and even promised a few surprise appearances that were not made clear to her, supposedly for the most genuine reaction.  Truthfully, it did not matter who showed up to the event; all that mattered was she was the best dressed out of the lot.

“Becky!  Book me a fitting at Gambi’s for tomorrow,” Libby called out, her eyes never once leaving the television.  “I want 9 AM sharp: if they’re booked, I want you to find out whoever is ahead of me and make room; I don’t care how you do it, but I need to get fitted immediately.”

“Right away, Miss Eleutheria,” Becca replied back before quickly turning to her tablet and working her magic, not that it would earn any recognition.  She just prayed that the rumors of a supervillain attack at the party were true, and that she never had to see Lardy Libby ever again…

***

The launch party was a veritable Who’s Who of reality show stars, socialites, and other people famous for being famous, and Libby made sure to get plenty of pictures schmoozing with anyone and everyone.  All eyes had to be on her, but that was not hard, considering how she was teetering on the 350 pound mark and waddled around in a black cocktail dress a size too small for her.  It might have been a tasteful little number on anyone else, but the porky patriot stretched the dress to near obscenity, which was just what she was going for.  The bust was pushed out by her chunky chest so much that the slightest step would cause her breasts to pop out, and where the hem should have fallen to her mid-thigh, her wide hips caused it to fall just shy of her crotch.

Not that the former freedom fighter cared how she looked.  She knew that she had put on a few pounds over the course of filming, what with her face being plastered all over social media and gossip rags, but the producers assured her that any publicity was good publicity.  That was why she laughed and drank her way through the night without a care in the world, a completely different woman than the one who was forced into this role earlier that year.  Between her hefty body, designer clothes, and flowing brown locks, it was near impossible to tell that she used to be the mighty Lady Liberty.

In between shaking hands, dancing, and taking pictures, Libby stayed off her feet as much as possible.  It was exhausting just standing up these days, and she had exercised more at this party than she had in the last several weeks.  The gym equipment she requested had gone unused for months, with her treadmill and weight machines gathering dust and her yoga mat stowed away in a closet as she focused solely on makeup tutorials and fashion critiques on her Instachat page.  Without even a meager amount of exercise, her stamina had dwindled down to pathetic levels and her muscles weakened so much that she would not even be able to lift her torch and shield if she still had them.

Which was exactly where the Helkurians wanted her.  As the event drew closer and closer to the big reveal of Libertad, Doctor Spyn watched from a booth on high while Professor Theophilus prepped Lya Bartholdi for the killing blow to Lady Liberty.  The captive was done up to look like she had escaped by the skin of her teeth after months of physical abuse: bloodshot eyes, bruises, and scars were all applied by a crack team of makeup experts, and she was given a ragged prison suit to wear.  Despite the bedraggled appearance, Lya was still at peak performance and could easily run circles around Libby.

“Remember your lines, 75,” Theophilus instructed his supposedly brainwashed prisoner.  “You have been a captive for months while your friend and lover sat idly by, growing fat off decadence and laziness as you were tortured to within an inch of your life.”

“I understand,” Lya answered in a drowsy, entranced voice.  “She must be punished.”

“Excellent,” the aged psychologist hummed. “She is ready, Spyn.  Shall I send her in?”

“Wait for it,” the cyborg replied while holding up his hand and lowering his fingers one by one.  When he curled his last finger into a fist, the music cut out and Libby plodded her way onto the stage, where a table was waiting for her.  “Now!”

Down below, Libby paused to catch her breath before accepting a microphone and hollering, “What’s up, everybody?  Thank you all so much for coming out to the release of my new drink!  Holler if you’re ready for some Libertad!”

The partygoers raised their voices in a cheer before their hefty hostess continued, “It’s been such a roller coaster of a year for me: leaving my old life behind and embarking on so many new, exciting challenges; going from being a Protector to having the most followers on Chatter.  I could never have made it without the help of all my new friends and supporters, those of you who are here and those of you streaming at home.  To everyone who’s been by my side this whole time, I raise a glass—”

“What about those who were watching from a prison asteroid in another galaxy?” a lone voice called out from the crowd.

Libby’s smile faltered before adding, “Sure, for those who were watching on—”

“What about for those who were locked up for months while you were living the high life down here, shopping along Park Avenue and bathing in Dom Perignon?” the same ragged voice called out, closer to the stage this time.

“Excuse you,” Libby huffed, her flabby cheeks red with frustration.  “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you’re not a fan, you can just leave!”

“Oh, but I am a fan,” the speaker replied before stepping out from the crowd, revealing herself to be Lya Bartholdi.  “You might say I’m your biggest fan.”

The microphone fell from Libby’s chubby fingers and her eyes went wide when her missing lover appeared before her like a ghost.  Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water but no words came out—after all, what could she say?  That nagging voice at the back of her head returned with gusto and practically screamed at her for forgetting about Lya.  She quivered as hot tears blinded her, but before she could make a move, her partner stepped onto the stage and picked up the mic.

“For the last six months, I was stuck in a Helkurrian prison and subjected to all manner of torture,” Lya explained to both Libby and the crowd.  “Worst of all, I could only watch as the woman I admired—no, loved—most in the galaxy became someone completely unrecognizable.  I was forced to watch as Lady Liberty became some self-righteous, egotistical reality star who cared more about her own image than saving me.”

A murmur spread through the crowd and Libby cast her head down in deep shame, every word piercing her like an arrow.  It was true that she had let this spiral out of control to the point that she had forgotten all about Lya, and she could never forgive herself, let alone ask her former partner for mercy.  Just as her tears hit the stage though, she felt Lya’s fingers cup her chin and tilt her head up to show that there was no malice in her almond eyes—only compassion.

The agent continued, “It wasn’t until the fourth month that I realized she hadn’t forgotten me; in fact, she was doing everything in her power to free me!  She was sending out a secret code in every episode, post, and ad she did, explaining that she had been forced to do this and to look for me.  We were both prisoners of Helkur, but she was forced to suffer at the hands of the public!  Thankfully, a team of Edinnusians freed me, and that’s how I’m able to stand before you today.  And that’s why I suggest we raise a toast to Liberty—Lady Liberty, who will always be a hero!”

At that, Lya planted a long, passionate kiss on Libby’s lips and wrapped an arm around her wobbly waist.  The heroine had no idea what was happening: she had sent no such codes, nor was she aware of anyone back home freeing Lya.  In fact, she had no idea how the light of her life could have escaped from a Helkurrian prison, even with a force of Edinnusians at her back.  She would get that sorted out in time though—for now, she would be content with having her lover back in her arms, even though she missed a glint in Lya’s eyes…

((And that's a wrap on Lady Liberty's story for now!  We'll return to her in the future, but before we do, we're going to take a trip to another time and place as we meet a particularly super legion.  Join us next Saturday when we meet the Adventurer's Guild!))

[Batman76]

I'd somehow missed these two updates, which means I get to binge tomorrow!

[Cyril Figgis]

THE ADVENTURERS GUILD, PART 1

The history of Earth-11 is filled with heroes of all kinds, from the fabled champions of the ancient world to the superhumans of the present, but there are none quite like the Adventurers Guild, for theirs is a time and place unlike any other.  The time is roughly 500 A.D.  The place is a realm called Mythopoeia, where all creatures of fantasy and legend reside.  It is a land of giants and pixies, elves and orcs, dragons and halflings, and so much more.  When one thinks of such a place, it is hard to imagine it being home to what we might call superheroes, yet it would be hard to call the assorted members of the Guild anything less.

It all began when three curious, intrepid youths went exploring one day and came across a door in a cavern.  Upon opening the door and walking through the void on the other side, the children found themselves in a strange, alien world—the modern world.  They were discovered by a young Hector Ramirez, the future Defensor, who demonstrated his remarkable powers to them and introduced the three to the conveniences of his time.  He soon discovered that his new friends also had abilities of their own, and in time, they all succeeded in defeating their first super-foe.  Though they all parted ways, the three from Mythopoeia never forgot their experiences and vowed to carry on what they had learned.

Their works soon attracted the attention of other like-minded youths, and their little band grew into a guild that housed people of all creeds and walks of life.  The Guild was open to all who were noble in heart, whether they were born with their abilities, achieved them, or had them thrust upon them.  They created new identities for themselves that reflected the superheroes they idolized in the modern world and crafted costumes in the vein of their spandex-clad inspirations.  In time, the Adventurers Guild became known the world over as they battled diabolical forces and protected life wherever it may be found.  They even ventured to the modern world from time to time, should their services ever be needed or a fugitive escape to that far-flung age.

This is one such story.  On a warm summer day, the Guild was called together and summoned to their meeting hall by their current leader and co-founder, Madam Mind.  The high elf, though no older than most of her companions, towered over all in the room, save the half-giant Sir Stature.  She had violet hair that cascaded down to the small of her back, piercing silver eyes, and a creamy complexion.  Like many elves, she was lean in figure, and given her height, the young woman had a gauntness that bordered on unhealthiness, though she often insisted that her people did not eat much.  Whether that was true or not, her sharp features gave her a severe appearance at all times, such that it was often hard to tell what her true mood was.

Such was the case that day, as she stood before the gathered Guild and cast a solemn look about the room.  When the last member took their seat, Madam Mind bowed in greeting and told the team, “My friends, I regret to inform you that one of our most dread foes has escaped prison.  Our sources in Starkholme have told us that Vierma, the Crystal Queen, vanished sometime before dawn and took her crystal ball with her.”

Panicked murmurs fell about the room, for the Adventurers knew all too well how dangerous the Crystal Queen could be.  A sorceress of little renown before, she came into control of a crystal ball that gave her terrific powers that bordered on the omnipotent; it was only for a lack of imagination that she had not made herself a god.  Whether alone or part of a collective known as the Corrupt Ten, Vierma was a force to be reckoned with, with some fearing that an entire army might not be enough.

“Thankfully, we have discovered where she has gone,” Madam Mind explained.  “Oracle Lass?”

Seated beside the team leader was Sori Eno, named ‘Oracle Lass’ for her precognitive abilities that came from being a carbuncle.  She was slight in both weight and height, coming up just shy of Madam Mind’s chest and being scrawnier than a toothpick.  Though still young, her hair was a salt and pepper blend of wispy white locks and ebony curls that framed her round face.  Her most distinctive feature was the gemstone in the center of her forehead, which channeled the visions she received and allowed her to broadcast them for others.

“Thank you, Methone,” Sori replied softly as she stood up.  She was not the best speaker and tended to mumble through her words in normal conversation, but she swallowed her fears and addressed the room as best she could.  “Just before I woke this morning, I saw the Crystal Queen in a city of mortar and steel, with automobiles in the streets and buildings so high that they touched the clouds.  Everywhere I turned, I could see a shield—painted on the side of buildings, on the clothes of people walking past, and floating in the sky.  On this, I believe that she has disappeared to Megapolis in the modern world.”

“What could she want from there?” asked Prince Thunder, casually leaning back in his chair and placing his feet on the meeting table.  “It would be foolish of her to try anything in Defensor’s home.”

“Feet off the table, Juus,” Methone chided her on-again, off-again lover before addressing the room.  “We will send a small contingent to the modern world to suss out the Crystal Queen, defeat her, and bring her back to Starkholme.  Sori, did your vision give you any idea of who should pursue her?”

Sori nodded and answered, “In my dream, I was guided a twinkling little light, a flickering flame, a herd of goats, and a gaunt statue of ivory.  I take this to mean Mite Girl, Miss Wisp, Legion Lass, and you, Madam Mind.”

At the mention of her name, Miss Wisp burst from her seat and flew about the air.  Born Nyx Sephone, she was a phantom by nature and a princess from Plades, the land of the dead, who wished to be free from the doldrum life of royalty.  She had golden brown skin that glimmered like amber in the sun and rosy hair that trailed all the way to her knees like a waterfall of wine.  Unlike some of her companions in the Guild, Nyx had a soft, plush figure from years of indulging in cuisines around the world.  There was some enough padding to give her tummy a distinctive pooch and her thighs a wobble, but her biggest gains were in her breasts, which looked like a healthy pair of cantaloupes and bounced like water balloons with the slightest movement.

“Huzzah!” Nyx cheered.  “Finally, some action!  It was getting to be so boring around here, I thought I had gone back home.  Oh, I wonder what I should pack for the trip.  Better yet, what should I do first when I get there?  So much to do and see in Megapolis…”

As she trailed off, a second Adventurer made herself known by raising her hand and asking, “Um, Sori?  Are you sure you saw me?  I don’t know how much use I could be.”

The doubter in question was Lina Pollex, known in the Guild as Mite Girl.  A pixie from the moorlands of Corvon, she had managed to impress the Adventurers Guild with her abilities to change from her modest height to smaller than a speck of dust.  Though she proved herself time and again, she always compared herself to the others and found herself lacking every single time.  This dour mindset carried over to her appearance, as she had a sickly pale complexion, inky black hair, and an untoned body that was neither thin nor fat—simply average.

“Better than being considered a goat,” Legion Lass snorted derisively from her chair.

The lone satyr in the room, Phila Lute was often the butt of jokes outside the Guild for her bestial appearance.  While she was mostly human from the waist up, she still had a pair of horns that curved out from the top of her head and green eyes with the wide pupils of a goat.  Below the belt though, she had the legs and hooves of that same animal, right down to being an ungulate.  Her lower body was covered in a thick layer of sandy fur, which she covered as best she could with skirts and dresses, despite how uncomfortable they made her.  The only similarity between her two halves was that Phila was muscular all over, with a toned upper body and thighs strong enough to crush melons.

“I apologize, Phila, but I do not control the way my dreams present others,” Sori told her friend.  “And Lina, you may not think yourself important, but you showed up in my dream when so many others did not.  Surely that means you are more significant than you realize?”

“I suppose,” Lina mumbled as she fiddled with the hem of her tunic.

“Could be worse,” Phila nudged the soft-spoken girl.  “You might have shown up as a bug.”

“It does not matter what we appeared as in Sori’s dream,” Methone chimed in as she tried to control the room again.  “What matters is that we prepare ourselves for the journey ahead.  Sori, was there anything else you picked up from your vision?”

Oracle Lass nodded and answered, “Yes.  As I pursued Crystal Queen through the streets, she came to a halt when confronted by a woman in red and white.”

“Guardiana!  We get to team up with Guardiana!” Nyx whooped.  “Oh, it’s been far too long since our last visit; I hope she hasn’t forgotten about us.”

Ever since Madam Mind, Prince Thunder, and Aether Lad worked with the future Defensor in their first visit to the modern world, they maintained a strong relationship with La Familia de Defensa.  The only real trick was that time passed far differently in Mythopoeia than in Hector’s time; while Hector had since grown up and was closing in on 50, the oldest Adventurers were just turning 20.  As such, while they still held a special place for Defensor, they had been working with his young wards much more in recent years.  Escudar and Guardiana were honorary members of the Guild and welcome in Mythopoeia any time, right down to having their own seats at the table.

“Hard to forget someone like you, Spooky,” Phila chuckled.  “It’ll be good to see Catalina again; I’ve been meaning to see if I can take her again.”

Methone shook her head and told the girls, “Need I remind you that this is not some holiday, ladies.  We are going to pursue a dangerous fugitive of the law; we can discuss pleasantries when we’ve captured Crystal Queen once more.”

When Nyx retook her seat, Methone continued, “Sori, Phila, Lina, and Nyx: I want you all to gather what you might need for this expedition and meet me in the portal room in one hour; I shall have Gomer prepare a gateway for us that will bring us directly to Guardiana’s apartment.  Everyone else, I want you to continue your patrols and keep an eye on the rest of the Corrupt Ten, should Crystal Queen return before we do.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the gathered Adventurers replied as one.

***

Back in her private chambers, Madam Mind sighed and flopped down onto her bed—a typical response for the Guild Leader.  She was in her third straight year as leader, sixth overall, and it was simply exhausting trying to maintain the poise and demeanor expected of her.  What she would have given to be as carefree as Prince Thunder, who had retained his freewheeling attitude even after losing his arm and leg in battle, or Miss Wisp, who found enjoyment in every little thing.  But no, she was Methone Alkyon, fourth of her name and heir to the Alkyon Dynasty, and she could not afford to appear as anything less than perfect.

After she breathed out some of the tension in her chest, the high elf rose from her bed and walked to her armoire to gather suitable garments for the mission.  First came her Madam Mind costume: a lavender tunic with white trim, matching trousers, and white gloves and boots.  Then she packed away a few pairs of street clothes that she had gotten while in the modern world, which were purposefully less elegant than one would expect of her.  She knew that she would attract attention even with a glamour spell hiding her unusual features, so the more she could do to blend in, the better.

“Anything I can do to help, milady?” asked Juus.

Methone turned and found her lover leaning against the doorframe, that same cocky grin spread across his bearded cheeks.  They were in one of their spells where they tried to keep a strictly platonic relationship, but the leader would be lying if she had not been tempted back in.  It was positively infuriating sometimes, especially because they knew each other so well that Juus might as well have shared her telepathic powers.  He could always tell what was going on in her mind, even when she could not admit it to anyone, herself included.

“Only checking with Gomer to see if the gateway is ready,” Methone replied, trying to keep her mind on packing her satchel.  “You know how distracted he can get.”

“I poked my head into his laboratory, and he’s hard at work,” Juus told his lover as he strode into her boudoir, his pegleg clicking across the stone floor.  “I thought perhaps I might be able to give you a hand some other way, like, say, a quick massage.”

The high elf sighed, “Juus, I really don’t have time for any frivolities.  I need to keep my mind focused on finding Vierma, or else who knows what she could do?”

Her swashbuckling partner stopped behind her and placed his hands gently atop her shoulders as he softly replied, “You’re not in the modern world just yet, Methone; you have all the time in the world.  You and the girls will find her without any problem and bring her back here, I just know it.  No need to go out there all tied up in knots.”

“I’m not…knot…ooh,” Methone cooed as Juus pressed his thumbs into her shoulders and rolled them around, working the tension out of her with the greatest of ease.  She swayed slowly when she felt the slightest tingle of electricity course through his hands, tickling her nerves and helping her relax in his grasp.  “I have no idea how you got so good at this.”

“With plenty of practice, my dear,” the electrical man hummed as he leaned in for a kiss.  After locking lips for a brief moment, Juus let go and asked softly, “Now, suppose we work a little lower?  I know how tight you get in the small of your back.”

Methone looked to the clock on the wall through half-lidded eyes and moaned, “Twenty…twenty minutes, and that’s all.”

“Then I’ll have to make the most of it,” Juus growled playfully as he ran his finger down her spine, that same tingle tickling along his lover’s backbone a promise of things to come.

***

As the Adventurers made themselves ready for their journey across time and space, Catalina Diaz was having her own little dilemma at work.  She had been working on a report for her boss, May Flower, and dropped her pen while twirling it around in her fingers.  This might not have been such a dilemma for most people, who could easily reach down and pick it up, but then, most people were not three hundred pound butterballs.  She only made the situation worse for herself when she accidentally kicked the pen further under her desk, which meant she had to get down on the ground to pick it up.

“Ven aquí, estúpida pluma,” the bespectacled girl grumbled as she reached for the pen in vain.

Ever since she had been duped into packing on dozens of pounds by the mischievous Reb Rascal, Catalina had been doing her best to lose weight, but her gelatinous body was a sign of how poorly her journey was going.  While her powers had come back in full, that did not make her thinner any quicker; it just meant that her workouts had been made that much different.  She could bench press a semi with the greatest of ease, but all the exercise would not help her if she did not curtail her appetite, which had grown out of control even before her Tri-Fit debacle.  Every workout ended with her glutting herself back home, and if she tried to starve herself, she only ate more the following day.  The powerful porker could fly to the moon and back, but she could not lose weight to save her life.

This was much to her boss’s delight.  May Flower poked her head out of the office and, on seeing Catalina disappear, ventured out to see what was wrong.  She was greeted with the delicious sight of her intern’s rotund backside wobbling back and forth in the air, each movement threatening to tear her skirt down the middle as she fished around for her pen.  While she often chided Catalina for her ill-fitting wardrobe and how thick she had gotten, the CEO could not deny just how much more appealing the mousy girl had become since she fattened up like a Christmas goose.

“Having a little trouble, Miss Diaz?” asked May after she had her fill of Catalina’s juicy rump and before she could do something that would make the company’s lawyers blush.

Catalina squeaked and shot up, only to bang her head on her desk before crawling out.  A terrific blush spread across her chubby cheeks as she stood up, one hand holding her desk while the other brushed off her blouse.  She mumbled, “S-Sorry, Ms. Flower.  I was just trying to reach my pen.”

May was tickled at how her flabby intern was too ungainly to pick up a pen but hid it behind an icy demeanor.  She crossed her arms and told the stout girl, “Sit down, Miss Diaz, and let me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Catalina whimpered as she plopped down in her armless chair and wheeled back far enough for May to kneel down.

 It was shameful that her boss had to do something so simple for her, and she made a silent vow to start that diet today—for real this time.  She desperately needed to lose weight, lest she wind up as fat and useless as some of the other heroines had gotten recently…

[Batman76]

The fantasy spin on the legion of superheroes is damned thrilling. I'm looking forwards to the culture shock of modern day for them, and really thrilled to see Catalina again after so long!

[Cyril Figgis]

12 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

The fantasy spin on the legion of superheroes is damned thrilling. I'm looking forwards to the culture shock of modern day for them, and really thrilled to see Catalina again after so long!

I knew that if I was going to do a Legion proxy, I had to include my Supergirl proxy.  And more than culture shock, I think they're going to be surprised at just how fattening modern food is...

[Cyril Figgis]

THE ADVENTURERS GUILD, PART 2

Catalina had been in some rough scrapes ever since she became a heroine.  In less than a decade, the Leech had drained her down to skeletal proportions, Bronco-Man had dragged her across a desert by his motorcycle, and Extraneo had forced her to listen to his poetry for an entire day.  She had been pushed to her physical limits time and time again, but none of her previous ordeals measured up to her current struggle.

“One day, I will find the person that invented stairs and chuck them into the sun,” the hefty heroine grumbled as she marched up to her apartment.

As part of her weight loss efforts, Catalina had to avoid taking the easy way out of everyday activities.  That meant walking everywhere she went, leaving her apartment to get groceries instead of ordering in, and taking the stairs instead of the elevator.  Her powers had returned in full, but the blubbery brunette’s stamina was still at an all-time low, which meant that she needed to build back her atrophied muscles.  Easier said than done, since Catalina’s default mindset was geared towards relaxation long before Reb Rascal got her hands on her.

Being forced to take the stairs was enough to sour her mood on a good day, but the poor porker was feeling particularly gloomy that afternoon.  Work had been absolutely exhausting and humiliating between the incident with the pencil, her blouse busting a button around the curve of her belly, and a few of her catty coworkers insisting she take the extra donuts and bagels from that morning’s meeting.  To cap it off, her boss had insisted on having lunch with her and, despite her best efforts, Catalina had eaten at least seven plates at the buffet they visited—hence the burst button.

“Never again,” she vowed to herself as she trudged up the stairs.  “I’m going to start taking this diet seriously, starting tonight!”

It was a vow that would have held more weight if Catalina did not make the same promise to herself week after week.  The fact that she was panting for breath when she stopped at the fourth floor proved that all her previous promises were in vain.  Her weakened thighs screamed at her as they burned from her effort and her knees felt like they could buckle at any moment, begging for relief.  Thankfully, it was only a few more feet to her door, and then she could plop down on her couch and give her aching joints some much needed relief.

When she reached her door though, Catalina’s ears perked up at the sound of voices inside her apartment.  She knew that she had not left the TV on, yet she still heard five distinctly feminine voices from within.  As she waddled closer, she focused her hearing to pick up just what they were saying and who it could possibly be.

“Doesn’t look like much has changed since we were here last,” a gruff voice remarked.  “Still hasn’t learned to pick up after herself.”

“Cleaner than your room, Phila,” a silky voice replied with a giggle.  “Besides, it just means that she’s comfortable.  Ooh, and she’s got the complete ‘Magician from Mars’!”

“Down, Nyx,” a cool voice instructed.  “Catalina should be home soon, and I don’t want her thinking that we’ve been rummaging through her apartment like savages.”

Catalina recognized all those voices—they belonged to her friends in Mythopoeia, the Adventurers Guild!  It had been ages since her last visit to that far-off world, even before her massive weight gain and miniscule weight loss, but she remembered them all as clear as day.  There was Legion Lass, who was always trying to compete with her, that adorably bashful Mite Girl, and the cute but chatty Calculo IX, to name but a few.  She was elated to see them after so long, but that elation faded when she glanced down and recalled how much she had changed since she last saw the Guild.

“Hope they still recognize me under all this,” Catalina groused as she palmed her stomach and wobbled it in her hand.

With a resigned sigh, the heroine unlocked her door and waddled in, making sure to turn sideways to squeeze her bulky body through.  She threw a smile on and called out, “Unless my ears deceive me, I think I hear Adventurers!”

“She’s here!” cheered Nyx.  The golden girl phased through the wall beside Catalina and surprised the gelatinous girl as she wrapped her in a hug.  “It’s so good to see you!”

It took a second for the phantasmic girl to register something was off about her friend, and she looked over Catalina with curious eyes.  The mousy brunette squirmed in place as a blush formed on her cheeks, wondering what the always energetic Miss Wisp would say about her gain.  After a moment, she got her answer in the form of a question, as Nyx asked, “Guardy, did you get a new hairdo?”

“N-Not really,” Catalina mumbled, grateful that Nyx was as oblivious as always.  Unfortunately, the other members of the group were not nearly as dim as their companion and were far brusquer.

“Sard me, but she’s huge!” Phila gawked when she rounded the corner.  The satyr could not believe the bucket of lard in a pencil skirt was the same girl that once pushed the moon back into orbit and raced around Mythopoeia for three days straight.

Lina, never one to speak up, could not help but gasp in shock when she laid her eyes on the changed Guardiana.  She had always been in awe of the girl’s slim, toned body, and to see her so blubbery now was more alarming than the first time she had been on an airplane.  While she was not the envious type, there was a small part of her that felt a little relieved at the sight of the corpulent Catalina, as it made her feel slimmer by comparison.

Methone’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and she turned to Sori with a withering glare, silently asking why the oracle had failed to mention this development.  In response, the carbuncle shrugged her shoulders and shook her head; she did not need to remind the team leader that her visions often left out certain elements that were out of her control.  The frustrated Madam Mind sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, a headache forming as Nyx and Phila peppered Catalina with questions.

“All right, all right, calm down,” Methone told her teammates, who backed down at her command.  She turned her eyes to Catalina and softened at the sight of her friend as she apologized, “Catalina, please forgive our rudeness and the interruption; you know how excitable we can get.  Why don’t you come in and we can catch up?”

“Okay,” the butterball mumbled in agreement, wishing she could run into her room and hide underneath the covers.

The girls made their way out to Catalina’s living room, giving the resident heroine ample space as she plodded over to the couch.  She gently sat down in her usual spot, notable for the dent her ever-increasing backside had made, and glanced around at her fantastical guests.  Being surrounded by so many slender figures made Catalina feel like even more of a whale; even the thickest of the group, Phila, was only built that way because of muscle.  The heroine rested her plump hands on her stomach, only to realize that she had forgotten about the gap in her blouse and snatched up a cushion to cover it up.

“So,” the bulbous brunette started in an effort to break the awkward silence in the room, “what have you girls been up to?”

“Oh, it’s been business as usual for us,” Methone mused, doing her best to keep her eyes from straying over Catalina’s rotund body.  “We recovered some stolen dragon eggs the other week, sealed a demented djinn who was spreading madness around the countryside, and Sir Stature and Changeling Lass are planning their wedding.”

“I get to be the maid of honor,” Nyx chimed in from her perch on a windowsill.

Before the conversation could continue, Phila raised her hands and asked, “Look, can we address the gaja in the room?  Catalina, what in the nine Hells happened to you?”

Methone shot her tactless teammate a withering glare, but the flabby girl in question bowed her head and answered, “Guess I can’t beat around the bush forever.  Just promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

When she received five nods in the affirmative, Catalina explained how she had ballooned so much since the last time they had all seen each other.  She told them of Reb Rascal’s deception, how her powers had been sapped over the course of a month, and how she had deluded herself into thinking it was working.  It was not the first time she had to tell people what had happened to her, but it never stopped being embarrassing.  The only thing that made it bearable was that as bad as she had it, at least she was not as fat as her brother, who was still too wide for anything less than double doors.

“And that’s about it,” Catalina finished.  “I’ve been trying to lose weight ever since, but it’s been slow going.  Dad says that nothing good ever came easy, but I never knew it would be this hard.”

“What’s important is that you’re trying,” Methone assured her friend as she patted her on the back.  She could feel the sea of emotions roiling around inside Catalina and tried to relay some sense of ease into the poor girl, but it was like trying to put out a fire with a cup of water.

“Unfortunately, this makes our quest that much harder,” Sori spoke up.  Unlike her telepathic leader, Oracle Lass had no problem studying the obese heroine as she noted where Catalina’s clothes were closest to failing and how much space she took up on the couch.  “I had seen you in a vision, Guardiana, but I’m afraid it left out this rather important detail.”

The dreamer shared her vision with Catalina and described the Adventurers’ mission to the spellbound girl.  When she finished, Sori leaned back in her chair and hummed, “Now you see why this throws a wrinkle into our plans.  Though I know not the full details of this omen, I know that you play a crucial role in stopping the Crystal Queen, Guardiana.  With you as you are now though, I’m not sure how our quest is meant to play out.”

Catalina sank into her couch and wished the cushions could consume her.  Here was the Adventurers Guild coming to her in their time of need, and she was too fat and useless to give them the help they needed.  She still stopped the occasional crime on the street or helped in an emergency, but it had been weeks since she had squared off against a proper supervillain.  Even with her powers back in full, how much good would she be against someone like the Crystal Queen, who had once taken the entire Guild down with her magic orb?

“Now see here, Sori—we should not disregard Catalina because of this change,” Methone told the oracle.  “Need I remind you that you managed to fight off the Decay even as you were struck with their rotting disease?  Phila, don’t you recall how you came back from petrification to fight Medusa Woman?  We have all managed to conquer despite setbacks, and this is no different.”

The high elf rose to her feet and put her hands on her hips as she declared, “While we suss out the Crystal Queen, we’re going to help you lose weight, Catalina, and together, we will all defeat that mad monarch before she can commit her evil acts!”

That promise was like a lifeline for the gloomy Guardiana, who brightened up and nodded along.  Methone’s words stoked a fire in her heart like nothing else had in weeks; for the first time since she had fattened herself up, she felt like she could truly lose all this weight.  Casting her cushion aside, Catalina stood up and took Madam Mind’s hands in hers with a grin.

“Thank you, Methone—thank you, everyone,” the butterball told the group.  “I know I’m not in top fighting form now, but I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure we can bring the Crystal Queen to justice.  Or my name’s not Catalina Diaz!”

The other girls circled in and patted their friend on the back, a silent promise shared among them.  After a moment, Catalina said, “Let me get changed into some proper clothes, and we can go work out!  I’ve got a great little spot on the outskirts of town that we could use.”

“Sounds good to me,” Phila replied as she rolled her shoulders around.  “I could use a little practice; I barely got any time in on the training grounds before getting called on this quest.”

“A splendid idea, Catalina,” Methone agreed, “and after we finish, perhaps we could do a little bit of searching around the city?  Not that we would engage the Crystal Queen at this moment, but it would be good for us to get our bearings.”

“Perhaps over some dinner,” Nyx suggested.  “It has been far too long since I have had a Mexican Pizza; I hope it’s still as delicious as I remember.”

Catalina chuckled in reply.  “Guess it’s been longer than I thought.  We’ll go get a real Mexican pizza while you’re here, don’t worry.”

***

As the Adventurers got reacquainted with their friend, a sinister figure stalked the streets of Megalopolis in the veneer of a high society diva.  A black cartwheel hat topped a head of ruby curls that bounced with every step she took, dark sunglasses hid sapphire, reptilian eyes, and a fine layer of peachy foundation obscured her pale green flesh.  Golden necklaces dipped down to a bountiful bosom that threatened to pop free from her sheer white blouse, and the rest of her otherwise slender upper body was wrapped in a black jacket that cost more than a house.  Her golden skirt was indecently short, but her lean legs were covered by black tights and thigh high boots that gave her already impressive height a considerable boost.

“Gods, what an ugly city,” Vierma Stromm mused as she looked around the bustling boulevard.  “Why those meddling Adventurers love this place, I have no idea.”

The Crystal Queen had visited the modern world a few times before, but unlike her rivals in the Guild, she had no love for the time and place.  There was a stench about the world that made her gag, the fashion was crude and unusual, and the languages ugly and coarse compared to what she was used to.  The only reason she had not convinced the other Corrupt Ten to invade and destroy the place was that there were countless superheroes that stood in their way.  While she was megalomaniacal, Vierma was no fool; she knew her odds were much better against the Guild than all the forces of Earth.

All that would change if her sources were to be believed.  During her time in prison, she heard tales of another crystal ball on Earth—one that rivaled the power of her own.  She could not very well call herself the Crystal Queen if she let such an opportunity slip through her fingers, and so she orchestrated an escape to the modern world for this prize.  Word was that the orb was in Megalopolis, home to that dastardly do-gooder, Defensor, so she needed to exercise the utmost caution while scouting out the power she sought.

“But if I can get my hands on that crystal ball, I’ll never need to exercise caution again,” Vierma hummed connivingly.  “I won’t need the Corrupt Ten or any other minion to reign over all the worlds—Earth, Mythopoeia, and beyond.  My name will be spoken of with fear and reverence across all realms!”

The redhead tittered with impish glee, only to be interrupted by her stomach growling.  In her haste to flee from her pursuers, the Crystal Queen had not eaten so much as a bite, and she was paying the price.  Her vanity kept her from eating much regularly, but traveling across dimensions works up quite the appetite, even for the initiated.  She tried to put her hunger out of mind, but when her stomach refused to back down, the fugitive gritted her teeth and changed her search from treasure to the culinary.

“All right, all right, I hear you,” she muttered to her gut.  “I shall get something to sate you, but then I expect you to be quiet until we leave this cesspool.”

Scanning the street for any sort of eatery before her eyes settled on the closest thing to familiarity.  Vierma mused, “‘White Castle’…fitting for a queen such as myself…”

***

While the Adventurers waited for Catalina to change into her workout gear, Methone took the chance to glance around the apartment, despite her earlier instructions for her team.  She made her way into the kitchen and, curious, inspected the cupboards and fridge to see just what Catalina was eating.  The answer was ‘nearly everything’, as her larders were full to the brim with plenty of food, only some of it of a healthy nature.  Fruits and vegetables were more often found in sugary drinks and desserts, meats and starches were in microwavable packets, and her biggest sources of dairy seemed to be cheese and ice cream.

“Seems we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Methone whispered to herself as she thought of what she and the girls could do to help Catalina lose weight.  It seemed that Guardiana was her own worst enemy when it came to shedding pounds, and the enemy was putting up a fight.

“We’ll make it happen…whatever it takes,” the elf mused as she shut the pantry doors.

[Batman76]

Im sensing multiple downfalls

[Cyril Figgis]

17 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Im sensing multiple downfalls

The seductive allure of fast food does not discriminate between heroes and villains.  It will claim all in its greasy, delicious embrace.

[Cyril Figgis]

THE ADVENTURERS GUILD, PART 3

While there was a faint glimmer of hope between the Adventurers that Catalina’s weight was not as bad as it seemed, it was dashed when they helped her work out.  The biggest problem was that the doughy heroine had all of her powers but none of the stamina, which meant that the other girls could catch up to her within a few moments’ time.  Each of the Adventurers had a talisman that granted them flight, speed, and strength that, while not on par with Guardiana, made them superior to even peak athletes.  In her prime, Catalina would have been a hundred times better than the talismans, but with her stamina at an all time low, they bested her at every opportunity.

It started with a race around the junkyard between her, Nyx, and Lina—the fastest of the Adventurers.  At first, it was no contest at all, with the phantom and pixie being lapped time and time again by the speedy superhero.  That speed did not hold up for long though, and before she knew it, Catalina was waddling along at a pathetic 50 miles an hour.  By the end, Nyx and Phila lapped her ten to one, with Catalina left clutching her fat-slathered knees and gasping for air.

Things did not improve from there, as the Adventurers helped her time and again with exercises that inevitably failed on her.  Catalina struggled through a rotation of sit-ups, push-ups, and chin-ups while Methone worked out alongside her, eventually collapsing on the ground like a lump of dough.  When it came time to wrestle with Phila, she tried to use her weight to her advantage, but her ungainly bulk just made her an easy target for the satyr.  All the while, Sori stood off to the side, taking careful notes of each failed routine with a sigh and a shake of her head.

By the time they finished, the otherworldly girls had barely broken a sweat while Catalina was absolutely drenched.  Her Megalopolis University t-shirt had ridden up her mammoth belly and nestled underneath her minute breasts, and her chubby cheeks were splotchy from all her effort.  After wiping her chestnut hair from her face, she glanced up at the concerned glances from the Adventurers and wished there was a nearby bottomless pit to throw herself down.

“I know, I know, that was horrible,” the brunette butterball muttered.  “I keep trying to get better, but no matter how much sunlight I absorb or exercise I get, it just doesn’t help!”

“Hey, we’ve all been there, Catalina,” Phila replied as she patted her flabby friend on the back.  “I mean, remember when I lost the ability to duplicate?  I felt like I had lost everything!  The important thing is that you keep at it and don’t give up.”

“Yeah!  And now that we’re here, we won’t stop until you’re back to fighting form,” Nyx added with a punch to the air.

“Thanks, girls,” Catalina hummed, the encouragement helping to fight back the rising tide of self-deprecation.  “Now, how about we go get something to eat?  I’m famished after all that, and it’s been way too long since you’ve had some Earth cooking.”

The Adventurers nodded in agreement and ventured back to Catalina’s apartment so she might shower and change before they headed out for a celebratory dinner.  On the way back, Methone lagged behind so she might have a conversation with Sori in private—and via telepathy.  The high elf did not want Catalina to overhear what she had to say and risk hurting her feelings.

‘Be honest, Sori—how bad is she?’ Methone asked the team’s oracle.

‘If she were trying out for the Guild, she would not make the cut,’ Sori answered glumly.

The two girls glanced ahead at Catalina’s backside and watched how the medicine ball-sized cheeks bounced and swayed with her every step.  There was a time when Methone was envious of her friend’s toned body, but that time was long gone, just as Catalina’s toned physique was buried under an excess hundred-plus pounds of blubber.  Trying to get her back in shape for fighting the Crystal Queen seemed an impossible task, but the Adventurers Guild never backed down from a trial before.  They would leave the modern world better than they found it, with the Crystal Queen in chains and Catalina hopefully back below the 200 pound mark.

‘Might I make a suggestion, Methone?’ asked Sori after peeling her gaze away from Guardiana’s gelatinous rump.  ‘I have thought of a way to get Catalina slimmer quicker, but it is risky.’

‘I’m open to all suggestions, Sori.  We have no idea when the Crystal Queen may strike, and we need Guardiana to be able to fight when the time comes,’ Methone mused.  ‘What do you propose?’

‘Your telepathy allows you to do a great many things with the mind.  I would never suggest that you take full control of Catalina, but perhaps you might be able to stifle a part of her—her appetite,’ Sori proposed.  ‘I believe that while her spirit is willing, her hunger is getting the better of her and undoing all of her hard work at every turn.  If we can find a way to control that, we might be able to help her get back into fighting form in half the time.’

It was a sensible plan, but one that Methone did not take lightly.  The mind—any mind—was a tricky thing to manipulate, as any telepath would tell you, for there are far too many things that can go wrong with such a complex instrument.  Not only was there the risk of doing irreparable damage to the mind, but she also ran the risk of damaging her own brain in the process.  The worst had been when she received psychic feedback that put her in a coma for days afterward and turned the criminal she was apprehending into a mindless monster.  There had been times where it helped though, which made it an even more difficult decision.

Ultimately, the high elf had to think of the mission at hand.  She conceded, ‘You make a good point, Sori.  I will do it, but only because time is of the essence and our friend needs our help.’

‘A wise decision, Madam Mind,’ Sori replied.  ‘I have no doubt that, together, we will overcome the Crystal Queen and bring her to justice.’

‘I hope you’re right, Sori—for all our sakes,’ Methone mused before being spooked by Nyx.

“What are you two lollygaggers doing?  Off somewhere in La-La Land?” the phantom girl teased.

Methone fumbled for an answer, never especially good at lying, but received help from her carbuncle companion, who answered, “We were just thinking of what we were going to have for dinner.  Looking forward to that tlayuda?”

Nyx nodded excitedly and answered, “Definitely, but there’s so much at this place that I can’t wait to try!  They have mole, chalupas, enfrijoladas, and so much that all sounds so delicious!”

“Well, it may be delicious, but let’s remember what otherworldly food does to us,” the high elf reminded her phantasmic companion.

For whatever reason, food in the modern world had a peculiar effect on people from the world of Mythopoeia.  The Adventurers found most every dish to be exquisite, borderline addictive, and could not get enough whenever they visited.  This would not be so bad were it not for the fact that calories seemed to multiply when they applied to the otherworldly explorers.  Even something like a salad could put some meat on a Mythopoeian’s ribs, as had been the case when one expedition team returned with love handles and ** bellies.

Nyx rolled her eyes at the gentle reminder, scoffing, “Honestly, Methy, you’re as bad as my mother sometime.  I promise I won’t go overboard, okay?”

“Nyx, remember that this is not a pleasure cruise,” Methone chided the lackadaisical lass.  “We are here on official business and must see our work through.”

“Just because we’re here for work doesn’t mean we can’t have some play,” Sori suggested, which earned her a thumb up from Nyx and a scowl from Methone.  “I mean, we did just get here and it has been ages since we saw Catalina.  Surely that warrants letting our hair down, if only for tonight?”

With two against her, the team leader could not help but acquiesce.  She rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed, “All right, fine.  I will try to lighten up, but just for tonight.  After we’ve had our fun, we need to focus on finding the Crystal Queen before she unleashes calamity on this world.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Nyx giggled before throwing up a mock salute and flying back up front.

Methone slumped her shoulders and marched on to Catalina’s apartment while wondering when the next team election was and if she could get out of it.  She hated being the only responsible one of the lot and wished she could be as carefree as her friends, but she knew that someone had to stay resolute.  After all, with the Crystal Queen loose, someone had to keep everyone focused on the mission at hand, though she was unaware that their quarry was currently eating her fourth round of sliders in the last hour…

***

After Catalina felt sufficiently cleaned, which was no easy feat considering how much of her there was, she changed into her biggest pair of jeans and threw on a red blouse that any of the Adventurers would have been swimming in.  The fantastical girls had likewise changed into comfy, modern clothes, and with their glamours cast, they blended right in with the crowds on the street.  Thankfully for the overtaxed and overweight heroine, the restaurant was just a couple blocks from her apartment—something that she knew all too well from a few too many cheat days.

“Hey, Catalina!” the hostess greeted one of her frequent customers.  “Table for six?”

“Thanks, Ola,” Catalina bashfully replied, her cheeks turning as red as her blouse.

The group was led back to a round table and, after ordering a round of drinks, relaxed for the first time since that morning.  Catalina was especially glad to be off her feet after working out and her lousy day at the office, and the Adventurers were likewise ready to kick their feet up.  The only one who still seemed on edge was Methone, but that was nothing new to the group.  What they did not know was that their psychic leader was determining how best to tap into Guardiana’s mind.

After the waiter brought their drinks, including more soda than Methone would have preferred her team drink, Catalina looked over the menu and asked, “Could you start us off with the botana oaxaqueña while we think about the rest of the order?”

When Methone caught a glimpse of what Catalina’s order entailed, her eyes went wide and her ears perked up.  ‘Serves 8.  Assorted tasting platter served on a sizzling skillet. Includes oaxacan cheese, 14 memelitas, chorizo, tasajo, cecina, chile relleno, carnitas, guacamole, frijoles de la olla with nopalitos.’  While she was not familiar with most of the words, the high elf had to imagine it was not particularly slimming.  Once again, she bit her tongue and opted instead to leave the table for a tick.

“I’ll be right back, girls,” the leader excused herself.  “Just need to wash my hands.”

“We’ll try to save you some grub, your highness,” Phila chuckled as she downed half her soda.

Methone made her way back to the restroom and locked herself in one of the toilet stalls, where she sat down and closed her eyes in concentration.  She opened her mind up and could sense every single person in the restaurant, though she was quickly able to parse through the crowd and locate Catalina.  It was not hard to locate her, for even in a restaurant full of people eating, her thoughts were taken up primarily by the act.  Losing weight was the farthest thing from her conscious mind, replaced instead by a desire to eat as much as she possibly could.  There were little excuses that flitted around the thought, like how she had friends and she had worked so very hard that day, but it became clear to Methone that something needed to be done.

“Sorry, Catalina, but I’ll need to numb those thoughts for a bit,” the high elf murmured before she reached out through the aether to pluck at Catalina’s mind.

Each telepath sees something different whenever they peek into someone’s brain, and in Methone’s case, she visualized a tapestry of whoever she was investigating.  Here, she saw Catalina in her former glory, flying through the air with the greatest of ease with a brilliant smile on her face.  Littered across the tapestry were numerous fraying threads—threads that had words inscribed on them that told Methone what they went to.  She found one that read ‘HUNGER’ leading appropriately to Catalina’s stomach and, satisfied, gently tugged at the thread to lessen her friend’s appetite.

When she glanced up at the tapestry though, Methone did not see any change in the fabric, certainly not where she had pulled the thread.  She tugged at it some more, pulling out an arm’s length of string, yet still the tapestry remained unchanged.  Her brow furrowed and she decided to keep pulling until she saw a difference, however much she had to remove.  Inch after inch of fabric went through her hands and piled up at her feet, but no matter how much she pulled out of the tapestry, it never seemed to shrink.  It was the most trouble she had with dissecting a mind in a good while, and she wondered just how deep Catalina’s appetite ran.

Eventually, the frustrated elf had to pause and step back from her work to rethink her strategy after getting nowhere.  When she tried to step though, she tripped in the pile of thread at her feet and fell on her bony behind.  Methone grunted and rubbed at her head, but when she glanced down at her feet for the accursed thread, she forgot her frustration and became bewildered.  The thread was wrapped around her feet, yes, but it was slowly crawling up her leg like a serpent, binding her legs together as though she were a mummy.

“Get off me!” she hissed at the thread.  “Off, I say!”

The mental thread did not listen and continued its trek up her lithe frame.  Methone frantically pawed at it to free herself, but the coils around her legs were too tight and the end of the thread unstoppable in its path.  When she grabbed at the thread, it merely wrapped itself around her hands and bound them together at the wrist before encasing her fingers.  The high elf shrieked and tried to recall all of her lessons in telepathy for something, anything, that could free her from the rogue thread, but nothing came to mind.  Nothing, that is, except one thing.

“Hungry,” her body droned while her mind waged war with Catalina’s.

Despite her best efforts, her mental self was quickly entangled with thread from head to toe, binding every last inch of her until only her eyes were showing.  The thread came to a stop at that point, but Methone was not free just yet.  Once she was fully encased, the elf was dragged towards the tapestry of Catalina’s mind and lifted into the air as though she weight nothing at all before being pinned to the tapestry.  She struggled inside the thread but was bound so tightly that all she could do was wriggle helplessly like a worm on a hook.  Eventually, as her telepathic hold grew weaker and weaker, the struggles ceased and her mental form went slack against the tapestry.

“Methone?  You in there?” came the soft voice of Sori from afar.

The high elf’s body stirred with activity again and she was roused from her telepathic debacle by Sori knocking on the stall door.  Methone shook her head and answered drowsily, “I…yes, I’m here.  Sorry, I was just trying to do that trick we talked about.”

After opening the door, the dazed team leader stumbled into Sori’s arms before fumbling over to the sink to wash her face.  It had been a long time since the oracle had seen her friend in such a state, and Sori asked, “What happened?  Were you able to find the source of her hunger?”

“I did, but her mind fought me at every turn,” Methone replied as life returned to her body.  “I tried tugging at her appetite, but I only found myself getting tangled up in the thread.  Gods, I don’t know what I was thinking—I could have hurt Catalina, let alone myself!”

Sori put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and affirmed, “You were doing what you thought was best.  Now, why don’t you come back to the table?  Our appetizers are almost here, and I ordered you some salsa de carne frita that sounded just heavenly.”

“Oh, but that platter sounded so big, and…”

Methone’s protest was cut off when her stomach kicked up a storm.  The offended organ growled like a hellhound at her, and the high elf winced at just how hungry she was.  She had not been so starved since the time she fasted for nearly a month and lived off the morning dew in her garden.  Suddenly, the idea of another plate of food after such a massive platter did not sound so crazy after all.

“That actually sounds quite nice,” Methone mumbled.  “I’m feeling rather peckish…perhaps I’ve been too worried about the Crystal Queen to get a proper meal.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Sori assured her companion as she led her out of the bathroom.  “Try to enjoy yourself and not worry so much about food tonight.  We’ll have plenty of time to look for her tomorrow and the day after, or however long it takes.”

Methone nodded along, but her head was a thousand miles away.  As soon as she left the bathroom, she felt awash in the delectable aromas all around the restaurant, each one tickling her stomach like a butterfly.  For the first time in forever, she could not wait to eat…

[Batman76]

One girl trying to help the other lose weight only to gain even more is fantastic

[Cyril Figgis]

31 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

One girl trying to help the other lose weight only to gain even more is fantastic

That's the best kind of friend - someone who gains so much weight that they make you look thin by comparison.

[Cyril Figgis]

THE ADVENTURERS GUILD, PART 4

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur for Methone.  She vaguely recalled catching up with Catalina once she got back to the table, but for the life of her, she could not remember a single thing the heroine had said.  Everything after the food arrived was a whirlwind of culinary delights, her thoughts clogged by a desire for more meat, more cheese, and more flavor.  Despite eating more than she did in a month, she could hear herself asking for more and working through each portion of the menu.  There was no conversation at the table, as everyone was too engrossed in their meals to get more than a word or two out, except to place another order.

When she finally came to her senses, Methone was laid out on Catalina’s couch as the morning sunlight poured in through the window.  A groan rattled past her lips as she covered her eyes and shifted about on the cushions to block out the offending light.  Her attempts for more sleep were stymied when she heard Sori greet her with a soft, “Good morning, Methone.”

The high elf peered through a gap in her fingers at the team oracle, who was seated across from her and sipping on a cup of tea.  Methone grumbled, “By the stars, what happened last night?  I haven’t felt this bad since the morning after Iarann Ghille’s wake.”

“I’ll tell you over a drink,” the carbuncle replied.  “There’s a bottle right next to you.”

With one hand still covering her face, Methone fished around for the bottle and nearly knocked it over before snatching it up in her fumbling fingers.  She brought it to her lips and found it to be a sweet, creamy concoction with a hint of coffee—something she had not had since her last visit to the modern world.  After another, longer sip, the telepath found her senses returning to her and the fog dissipating in her brain, which she welcomed with open arms.

“This is superb,” Methone remarked with a smack of her lips.  “Wherever did you find this?”

“In Catalina’s refrigerator.  She has plenty of those Frappuccinos to go around,” Sori answered.  “I gave everyone a bottle before they left to pick up some breakfast for us all.”

As strength returned to her, the Guild leader worked her way into sitting up, though she still lacked the finer posture she was known for.  She studied the bottle and hummed, “I’ll have to see if Gomer can replicate this when we get back home.  But tell me, what of last night?”

Sori shrugged and explained, “There’s not a lot to tell, really.  We all had a lovely dinner, and then we came back here to watch movies and eat snacks.  You must have been pretty tired after everything, because you passed out in the first hour.”

“I suppose,” Methone mumbled to herself.  It was troubling that so much of the previous night had vanished from her mind, but she chalked it up to the stress of finding the Crystal Queen and trying to tap Catalina’s brain.  “You mentioned snacks and dinner…we didn’t overdo it, did we?”

“Hardly,” the dreamer replied in between sips of tea.  “Everyone had just enough to sate them, though we did have to stop Nyx from ordering another tlayuda.”

“Good—I’m glad they remembered to restrain themselves,” the team leader remarked.  “With how our bodies react to the food in this dimension, we need to be careful, especially since we’re trying to track down a fugitive.”

“We’ll be careful, Methone,” Sori assured her longtime friend.

Satisfied, the high elf rose shakily to her feet and downed the rest of her drink before telling Sori, “I’m going to go wash my face for a moment.  Do let me know when the others get back.”

After receiving a nod in return, Methone wandered to the bathroom, her long legs weak as a newborn deer’s.  She fumbled along until she could grip the sink for support and shut the door with her foot while she turned the tap on.  The first splash of cold water helped the Frappuccino revive her ragged body, revitalizing her like the rain for a withering plant.  The psychic cupped some water in her hand and drank deeply as life slowly returned to her.

It took a moment or three for her to feel normal, but after washing the bleariness away, the purple-haired girl felt right as rain.  Her fingers ran through her violet locks in an effort to straighten them out, but as she studied herself in the mirror, she noticed something amiss.  There was a puffiness in her cheeks that had not been there the night before, and when she raised her arm, she noticed that there was a certain softness accumulating around her thin stems.  She poked a bicep and pursed her lips when she saw there was actual give in her pale, supple skin.

“Perhaps I’m retaining water?” Methone remarked to herself before casting a cursory glance down her lean frame for any further signs of bloating.

Her body had been lean not twelve hours prior, but there was more padding to her body than she had ever seen.  For the first time in her life, she had actual breasts, even if they were still little more than bumps on her chest.  More disconcerting was the small layer of pudge that had accumulated at her waist, for when she gauged it, Methone found that there was just enough for her to pinch between her fingers.  Her hips had fared little better, as they had filled out enough to produce curves, and her thighs, while still nowhere close to meeting, were closer than they had ever been before.

“This can’t be normal,” the high elf muttered as she prodded herself, her digits sinking ever so slightly into her skin like she was poking a marshmallow.  “This isn’t can’t just be bloating, right?”

A knock at the door shook her from her observations, and she heard Sori call out, “Methone, the others are back!”

“I’ll be right there!” the team leader replied as she smoothed out her shirt and did her best to ignore how different it felt than last night.

When Methone walked out into the kitchen, she found Catalina’s table covered with groceries and her teammates pulling out all sorts of food from them.  Any of her worries about putting on a few pounds overnight were lost when she picked up on the myriad aromas that came from the bags.  Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes all hit her like a wave, and the high elf found herself fighting the urge to drool.  Once she saw Phila break out a box of donuts though, she had to wipe a hand across her lips to get rid of the trickle forming.

“Wh-What’s all this?” asked Methone as she held onto her senses.

“Breakfast!  Try the apple fritters—they’re to die for,” Phila chuckled as she plucked one from the box and bit into the glazed delight.

“We also stocked up at the hot food bar they had open,” Lina replied as she opened up several takeout boxes to reveal the breakfast food therein.  “Plenty to go around!”

Catalina poked her chubby face out from the fridge, where she was stocking up on the cold goods, and apologized, “Sorry, Methone, that’s on me.  We broke the rule about not shopping while hungry, and we wound up with a little more than expected.”

“That’s…that’s all right,” the high elf murmured, all her attention on the box full of glistening hash browns.  “We appreciate the g-generosity, and I wish we could repay you somehow.”

“You’re my guests!  You don’t have to do anything,” the lardy Latina assured her friend.  She finished loading up the fridge and turned sideways to shut the door before waddling over and hugging Methone.  “Besides, you’re going to help me lose weight!  I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Methone graciously accepted the hug, but her focus remained on the spread on the table.  She licked her lips and told Catalina, “About that…should we really have so much?  Perhaps changing the portion sizes would help.”

“Between the six of us, this should be just fine,” Sori assured her team leader as she nibbled on a banana.  “Besides, if we’re going to get in training and tracking down the Crystal Queen, we’ll need all our strength, and what better way than having a full breakfast?”

That was true: if the girls could stick to the schedule, they would need fuel to get through the day, especially if they happened to come across the rogue villainess.  With an accepting nod, Methone began gathering a plate for herself, piling it with eggs, bacon, and hash browns before sprinkling on some cheese that Nyx plucked out of the fridge.  She would normally have balked at such a portion, but how could she resist when it smelled so delectable?

Before long, all of the Guild girls had gathered plates of food and made their way out to the living room to finish the movie they had started the night before.  While the others tucked into their breakfasts, Sori stayed on her feet and moved the food from the kitchen to the coffee table in the living room.  No sense in getting and pausing the movie constantly in case people wanted more, after all.  Only when all the food was made available did the oracle finally sit down to enjoy the film, though her attention was not on the screen.

No one else seemed to notice it, but the girls had all softened up after their glut the night before.  Phila had thick thighs to begin with, and they had only gotten more so, to the point that the shorts she arrived in looked painted on.  Lina, soft and untoned, had a little tummy that stretched out her t-shirt, though a little sliver peeked out the bottom.  Nyx blessed with a healthy chest to begin with, had only gotten healthier over the course of the night, to the point that she had gone up a clear cup size.  The only one who had not grown at all was Catalina, but that was only because food did not affect her like it did the Guilders.

Sori had seen this coming, as she always did.  While it was true that she had a vision of her and the others pursuing the Crystal Queen in Megalopolis, she had not seen Catalina stopping the would-be despot.  She knew very well that Guardiana was not in prime fighting condition and that her gluttony would only drag the Guild girls down with her before they could capture their charge.  That would have terrified some, but for the oracle, that was perfect.

For as long as she could remember, Sori had a fixation with seeing people fatten up.  She remembered going to a carnival as a child, seeing a woman that weighed more than a full grown cow, and being entranced by the pile of blubber in a dress that she could have gotten lost in.  As she got older, little comments from others about being stuffed or their clothes feeling tight sent shivers down her spine.  Mealtimes with the Guilders were an exercise in fortitude, especially when she saw how some of the others wolfed down their food.

Despite this deep-rooted desire, she had yet to truly explore her fantasies, for fear of being judged for them.  All she could do was take refuge in her dreams, where she could see people gorge themselves to astronomical proportions and not worry about what people thought.  She had also taken to studying the modern world more, for she found there was an abnormal period in the early 21^st century where a number of prominent women had fattened up through various means.  There had been a good few nights where she entertained herself to the fates of Lady Liberty, The Miracle, Speed Demon, and so many agents of F.E.E.D., wishing she could have been there firsthand.

One day, she finally got that wish.  She had a vision of the Crystal Queen escaping to Earth, yes, but she had seen a shower of food stop the villainess—not any of the Guilders.  They had all been impeded by the food as well, and while there were any number of ways to interpret the dream, Sori only cared about one.  Thus, she fed the team a little white lie about how events would play out and guided them towards the very fulfilling evening they had.  She had not expected Methone’s attempt at curing Catalina of her gluttony would cause such a feedback in the unflappable leader, but she was pleased as punch with the results.  Now, her only concern was how long she could keep the ruse going…

***

As it turned out, Sori could keep the ruse going for quite some time.  She knew that without the watchful eye of Methone, the other girls would likely fall out of line, but she had not expected them to fall off quite like they had.  Without their leader reminding them to stay on track, Nyx, Lina, and Phila were much more willing to goof around with Catalina.  Instead of scouring the city for any sign of the Crystal Queen, they would prefer to stay in and watch television; after all, there were thousands of channels to choose from and several movies and shows in Catalina’s personal collection.  If they did go out, it was to shop around or go get something to eat—and as time went by, they opted for the latter.

This also extended to Catalina’s attempts at exercise.  While they made a few feeble attempts at first to help her get into shape, the Latina’s natural inclination to laze about proved infectious.  The other girls soon gave up on encouraging their friend to work harder and fell into her slothful pace.  Even Methone gave up before too long, but whether that was because she realized how hopeless it was or that she was too preoccupied with stuffing her face, who could say?

The only one to keep her focus was Sori, though she was far less interested in the Crystal Queen than making sure her friends were all well-cared for.  She looked up all the best restaurants in town, made sure the apartment was stocked up with plenty of groceries, and refilled anyone’s plate at their request (and sometimes even if they had not yet asked).  It might have seemed like a thankless task for some, but for the closeted fetishist, seeing her lovely friends filling out and testing the limits of their clothes were rewards enough.

“Pizza’s here!” Sori announced one evening as she waltzed into the living room.

After two weeks of rest, relaxation, and mountains of fattening modern food, the girls in the room were a far cry from their slender selves.  Their unchecked laziness and appetites had done a number on them, transforming them from waifs to butterballs in just a fortnight.  Tummies bulged under blouses, thighs rubbed together, and breasts bobbled like balloons—a feast for Sori’s eyes as she set the boxes down on the table.

Nyx was the first to get a slice, using her spectral powers to phase through a box and grab a fully loaded slice.  The ghastly girl was already inclined to putting on a few pounds, given that she levitated everywhere instead of walking, but the last two weeks had done a number on her.  A thick double chin rippled as she downed half the slice in one bite, and a dollop of sauce splattered onto melon-sized breasts.  Her basketball belly dangled in the air as she hovered near the ceiling, free from its confines as its owner mindlessly ate.

The sportiest of the bunch, Phila, had lost all of her precious definition and looked more like a retired athlete that let themselves go to **.  Her shirt sleeves cut into flabby biceps that wobbled when she threw them in the air, and her abs were buried under a gut that pooled onto her lap.  Thighs that could once crush fortified pumpkins had grown so soft and untoned that they would be as useful for crushing as a pair of pillows.  The thick stems rubbed together almost to her knee and were speckled with cellulite all along the back.

Little Lina was positively round by that point, but that did not stop her from greedily munching on a slice of pineapple and ham.  She had not developed so much in the chest, but her stomach had exploded in volume, growing in the front and the sides.  The flabby mass stuck out so far that she could not see her feet, and it joined a pair of hips that had become so ungainly that she had to wobble from side to side to move around.

Most shocking of all was Methone, who had transformed from a whisp of a girl to a landwhale in the span of a few days and exceeded Catalina in girth.  Her fair face was swaddled in a thick layer of fat that made her eyes squint and her lips pucker, her arms were as big around as sacks of flour, and she had a third chin forming at her neck.  Bountiful breasts as big as hams lay atop a gut that she could use as a tray, which itself flopped onto thighs that were bigger around than her waist had been.  Beneath her was a rump that completely filled her armchair and necessitated two chairs when they went out to eat.  In trying to curtail Catalina’s eating, she had only succeeded in making her own appetite expand to the point that she was fatter than anyone in the Guild.

“Sori?  Could you get me some more soda?” the high elf asked in a voice that had deepened slightly from the thick fat encasing her neck.

“My pleasure, Methone,” the oracle hummed as she sauntered back to the kitchen. 

She was happy as she could be, the team was relaxed, and when Catalina got back home after work, they could all go out and try that Mongolian grill she had found.  The best part was seeing what had befallen the fugitive Crystal Queen while her friends were lazing about—arrested for refusing to leave a buffet.  The woman in the pictures was a blob that made even Methone seem skinny, and all she could talk about was how she deserved more food and had not had ‘all she could eat’.  When she read how the police had to bust down the doors to pull her out, Sori knew that she would have material for a little ‘entertainment’ when she got back to Mythopoeia.

“Guess we’ll have to head back home soon,” she sighed as she grabbed another can of soda for Methone.  “Maybe another week though…just to make sure everything’s okay here.”