"Negative Space: A Ben 10 Genderbent AU." (closed for Ahren)

"Negative Space." A Ben 10 Genderbent AU. A Legend of Star City. (closed for Ahren)


Two ships were locked in battle, energy spearing between them as they crossed the rings of Saturn, delving deeper into this insignificant little solar system...

...one small and sleek and green, carrying a desperately important package...

...one looming and stark, bent upon crushing its prey and taking its prize.

Across the gulfs between planets they fought, exchanging fire at every turn.

But it was only once they drew into orbit above a polluted little blue-green marble that their volleys began connecting in earnest.

The blue-green ship torched its pursuer even as it started to crumble.

The crackling dreadnought unleashed robotic agents to carve up what was left of its prey, even as its engines vented flames into the night.

The blue-green ship initiated self-destruct and unleashed a tiny pod, barely the size of a soccer ball, sent it spinning off towards the planet below, seeking safe harbor.

But before the pod could reach its intended target, something drove it off-course, sending it crashing down in the middle of an uninhabited stretch of woodland-- far enough from the nearest campsite that it landed alone, unobserved.

Far above, in orbit, both ships suffered catastrophic failures, detonating near-simultaneously, each with power sufficient to rival the Tunguska event.

They were gone, and all hands with them.

The pod sat alone, steaming, ticking slightly as its metal shell cooled.

It sat there for quite a long time.


If Bernice Kirby Tennyson had heard it once, she'd heard it a thousand times. Ten thousand.

"Why can't you put half the energy into your classwork that you put into soccer or that... parkour-running nonsense?"

"When are you going to grow up and do something with your life?"

"Bellwood Community College? Pop culture and graphic arts? Really?"

"Your cousin graduated early from high school, went on to an Ivy League college out east, you'll be lucky if you get a job at Burger Shack or Mister Smoothy."

"Whatever happened with you and that adorable tennis girl? Now she knew where she was going in life."

But now it seemed like they were out in force.

This was Max' favorite campsite, her grandfather's sort of... Fortress of Solitude.

And so of course when they decided to have a family reunion-slash-birthday for him, it had to be here. And of course of course (by extension of extension), getting the whole family in one place meant lots and lots of mini-interventions for the cousin who had so far sort of wandered through life.

What the Hell business was it of theirs?

So she was 20 years old and in no hurry to grow up.

If they liked Gwendolyn so much, they could talk to her, she was around here somewhere with that gearhead ex-juvie boyfriend of hers with the heart of gold.

Messy brown hair and vibrant green eyes huddled in her trademark white and green hoodie, Ben slouched off into the woods, random direction, anything to get clear of the noise.

She had a sort of... deja vu about this place. Which made no sense. She'd gone on lots of road trips with her grandpa when she'd been a kid, but that had all stopped the summer of fourth grade. She had been supposed to go on a trip with both Max and Gwen, but she'd gotten sick the last day of school, hadn't been able to go along.

Max and Gwen had gone without her.

Something had happened to break Max' heart that summer, and he'd never quite been the same. No more road trips; he'd just puttered around his plumbing store, content to dwell in semi-retirement.

And Ben had lived her life in much the same way.

Hopscotching deftly along a series of stones, she wandered aimlessly past a small dome of earth at the center of a small depression...

...which seemed to rustle and shift at her passing, as if recognizing her scent.

And then the dirt crumbled away, revealing a metal spheroid that looked kind of like a rolled-up pillbug or armadillo.

"Huh," Ben murmured, squinting, hunching down a little to gaze at it. "Some kind of time capsule or something?"

If it were a time capsule, then its time had come-- with a hiss and a shudder, the partially submerged globoid opened like a mouth on an old arcade character... and inside, something glowed green.

It looked vaguely watch-like. The sort of watch a scuba diver might wear, with a kind of bulky, rubbery wetsuit-like watchband. The faceplate even had what looked like an hourglass symbol on it-- and it was that that was glowing green.

A bright, portentous green.

Like some kind of Power Ring from the comics.

Or even Kryptonite.

Ben knew, on multiple levels, that she shouldn't mess with something like that. But it was like it was beckoning to her. It was flame, and she was a moth.

And, gingerly, hesitantly, she reached for it...

...but before she could even touch it, it leaped from where it lay there in the heart of the sphere and it latched onto her left wrist like a predator sinking teeth into prey.

"Aaahhhh! Holy fuck!" Ben shrieked, stumbling back, waving her hand, trying to shake it off--

--but it didn't budge, it didn't budge.

She bashed it against a rock, didn't even scratch it, tried to poke it off with a stick-- but no good, no good.

After a moment, she took a breath, sat down, sat down staring at it.

It didn't... hurt. It didn't hurt at all. Just the opposite, really. It felt like her wrist had been waiting for this thing all her life... and this thing had been waiting for her wrist for even longer than that.

It was a strange feeling... but a welcome one. She hadn't been big on belonging in her life.

Ben squinted at it.

There were buttons on the side.

...buttons. What did they do, start the stopwatch or something? Set the alarm?

Reaching for one of those buttons with an index finger, she again got that feeling of portentousness...

"Ben?" another girl's voice called for her.

"Ben, are you okay? They said you went this way?"

Hesitating, Ben glanced up, and instinctively pulled her hoodie's sleeve down over her wrist. "Uh. Gwen! Hey."

She registered that her cousin was beautiful. Objectively. Red hair, green eyes, and she had a stern, bespectacled kind of librarian look that some dudes and not a few ladies really went for. But their relationship, on the few times they'd ever had one, had been more like antagonistic siblings.

Secretly, ten years ago, Ben had felt like she'd dodged a bullet not having to spend a summer with her. Since then, well, they hadn't gotten much closer.

"Gwendolyn," she smiled tightly at Ben.

"Right, sorry, old habits," Ben hesitated, then frowned slightly. "So you're the one they sent after me, huh? Short straw?"

Gwendolyn shook her head, shrugging. "No. No, truth be told, after they drove you off I gave them Hell for it. I mean, I kind of see their point, you always had a lot of potential-- but it's your life, you know? Kevin was a high-school drop-out, but there's nothing he doesn't know about engines, and he's got a good head on his shoulders... life takes all kinds of roads."

"Not everyone has to have a PhD courseload at 20," Ben smirked wryly.

Ordinarily, she would have rejected Gwendolyn's goodie-two-shoes overachiever meddling just as much as she would have rejected any of the others coming after her to pester her more. But right now she was feeling... generous. Like the world was turning slowly about the axis of these moments.

"Exactly," Gwendolyn noted.

She swung out a hand for Ben, offering to help her up. "Now, c'mon. Max wants us to start telling scary stories around the campfire. You always did tell the best ones."

"Yeah," Ben nodded easily, and took her hand-- with her right hand, again instinctively keeping that watch-laded wrist hidden.

"I think a new story's just getting started."

"I didn't expect things to be so different when I came home..." Spoke the solemn voice of dark-haired young man. The auburn-haired girl sitting next to him upon the large rock pulled her knees up to her chest and tilted her head.

"Maybe you've changed..."

"I don't know. Maybe this town has changed." He continued softly, staring toward the ground.

"I haven't..." The girl murmured, looking away.

"Sure you have, Lindsay... You've become more beautiful..." He turned to her, tilting her chin towards his.

"John..."

"Stop... Just... Stop." Another voice came from a few yards away. There stood a brown-haired man sporting a trimmed circle beard with glasses propped in front of dark brown eyes. He lowered the video camera and waved his hand in an irritated manner. He wore a square patterned dark-red shirt, unbuttoned over a black shirt with a Dream Theater band logo.

"Aw, no Erik, come on. That was good! Give me another shot..." The other boy pleaded.

Erik removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, setting the camera down on the rock next to his friends. "Alex, it's not you. Or you Mikayla. You guys are great.

It's my fucking dialogue. Writing it on paper was one thing but hearing other people speak it... it makes my brain want to separate itself from my body in shame. I don't know what I was fucking thinking writing this cliche trash. I'm just not a scriptwriter. I can direct, but I'm no writer."

"Erik, it's not bad, really. And you'll get better. You just have to keep working at it. Very few people are writing award winning screenplays or directing classics when they're 20." Mikayla offered some comfort with a slight smile.

"Thanks... It just seems like these days geniuses are coming out of the woodwork at younger and younger ages. I'm basically a kid and I still feel like I've wasted a bunch of time. I don't know. Maybe I'm just being too self-critical. Either way, I think I'll let you guys go for tonight. You've been a real big help, thank you."

"I'm the next A-list star, Erik." Alex smirked. "I gotta get in the films where I can. I need exposure. Besides, you're the most talented director in school. Let me know when you want to do a few more scenes, okay?"

Alex headed off, leaving Erik and Mikayla somewhat awkwardly standing beside the rock near the forest trees.

"So, Mikayla, you need a ride home?"

"Ah, thank you! But I'll just call my boyfriend since we planned on getting some dinner anyway."

"Your... yeah. Of course. Um... enjoy that. I think I'll film some B-roll around here for a bit. Who knows, maybe I'll get a lucky shot of Bigfoot or something and I'll get known for... that bullshit instead of anything regarding actual talent." Erik chuckled softly, holding the camera up.

"I'd like to help again too, so call me, okay? And be careful out there. Y'know. Monsters." She smiled again before heading off as well, leaving Erik by himself. He sighed and knocked his head against the rear of the camera a few times.

"Boyfriend. Figures. That's how it always is." He muttered to himself as he looked up to the sky. It was getting dark, so there wouldn't be much time left to film anything.

Except the monsters, obviously.

"...'BIGFOOT!'" Ben roared, waving her hands. "'OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! BIGFOOT!'"

And then she sat down again on the log by the fire and grinned her ass off. "...and everyone came running, and they were pointing, and they slowly started laughing..."

She smirked softly. "And that's why Uncle Manny either needs to shave his back, or start wearing a shirt when he goes walking in the woods, am I right Uncle Manny?"

And the group around the fire all turned and looked at Uncle Manny, who looked red in the face from embarrassment and a couple beers, and when he burst out laughing, everyone did, clapping Manny on the shoulder if they could reach him.

Ben grinned, pointed an index finger up in the air. "Yep, I'm right."

And then, then, the crowd shifted a little bit, the moment passed, and Ben heard a voice cry out from the edge of the campsite: "Maxy-Waxy! Where is my Maxy-Waxy? Oh, everyone, we're so sorry we're late."

Oh. Right. Aunt Vera.

"Oh, look at my Bernie, look at you, oh, so grown-up! What are you up to these days?"

Ben squinted at Aunt Vera, burly, silver-haired, unsinkable. Really? 'Bernie?' I like 'Ben.' Everyone calls Gwen 'Gwendolyn,' why is 'Ben' so hard to remember?

...I guess 'Benny' would be acceptable. But 'Bernie.' Ugh, no thanks.

Ben always lost track of how big a thing reunions were for this family-- even Lucy was here, and she was like a cousin-in-law once removed or something. Since Aunt Vera was Max' sister, it wasn't really that surprising that she was here. Technically, she was Ben's great-aunt, but everyone called her "Aunt," even friends of the family. But if she was here, that meant with her was--

"Hey, everybody," waved skinny, gangling, gawky, awkward blond younger second-cousin Clyde Fife.

Ben sighed dismally. "Hey, guys. Hey, Clyde."

Clyde was... annoying. Could not be more of a bizarrely dorky Napoleon Dynamite pastiche. But at least he loved superheroes almost as much as Ben did, and that was saying something. Granted, Ben tended more towards the spacefaring sci-fi types where Clyde preferred the gadgeteering Iron Man types.

Sitting down on the log beside Ben, Clyde grinned at her lopsidedly. "Hey, Ben."

And offered a fist-bump. Awkwardly, natch.

Ben sighed again, and fist-bumped Clyde. But as she did so, her sleeve shifted, and Clyde blinked.

"Hey, nice smartwatch. How'd you afford that? I'd love to get one!"

Ben blinked, quickly pulled her sleeve back down. "Oh, uh, I'm beta-testing it. Some start-up. It's pretty sweet." Change the subject. "Hey, d'you see they're planning a reboot of the animated Sumo Slammers? Jennifer Nocturne might do a voice this time. Could be cool, huh?"

"I dunno," Clyde frowned. "I don't think that franchise has been the same since the original voice for Kenko passed away."

Ben nodded, that was fair; the guy who took over for Kenko was okay, but just not the same. "Can't argue with that."

Aunt Vera stood looking around the campsite with her hands on her hips. "Maxy-Waxy! Where is my little brother?"

Ben glanced around at that.

Huh.

Guest of honor made himself scarce?

Ben found Max a few minutes later, sitting on the roof of his beloved RV, nicknamed The Rustbucket, away from the hubbub of the party. Max was a solidly-built, chubbyish fella, with silver grey hair close-cropped in former-military style. He wore his trademark red Hawaiian shirt, but not his trademark easygoing demeanor.

"Hey," she called up to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Max smiled down at her sadly. "Just needed a little time to myself. A little... space."

"Yeah, I guess that's going around," Ben squinted. "Sorry, I can leave you alone--"

She hesitated. "Unless. Unless it would be okay if I got a little space with you?"

Max nodded slowly, beckoned. "Yeah, climb on up. There's juice boxes on ice in the cooler."

Juice boxes were a ridiculous affectation for someone at Ben's age, but she loved 'em to bits, and Max knew it. This was why Max was awesome for an old guy.

Once Ben had gotten situated, slrrrrking softly on a bendy straw, she glanced over at Max, who was gazing quietly, sadly up at the stars.

And for once, for once Ben thought of someone else ahead of herself, and just sat quietly and let him look.

After a long, long moment, Max took a sip from his own beer-- some foreign monstrosity, Max never ingested anything normal, bugs and worms and all that Andrew Zimmern crap --and gazed at Ben sidelong. "Bernice. You remember that summer ten years ago, you and me and Gwendolyn were supposed to go on that roadtrip. You were sick that first night, couldn't come with us?"

Ben smiled quietly, pointed to him with the periscope of the straw. 'Bernice' isn't so bad coming from you. "It's been on my mind."

Max nodded slowly. "Something happened that first night. I didn't find out 'till later that summer. But that first night-- someone I used to-- she died, Ben. We had a history, long ago. And I always thought-- we always thought-- that we'd go off and travel together one day, when the time was right. And then she was gone. And-- and I do what I can to stay busy, I always have, but it's just-- those might-have-beens, Ben. You're young, you think you have forever, all those decades ahead of you, so many more than you've got behind. Don't be alone at the end of them with those... might-have-beens."

Ben stared at him, unable to process these emotions-- this unexpected turn of events. Truth be told, she still found "old people love" to be super gross, but anything a broke that heart as big as Max'... "Grandpa, I'm-- I'm so sorry."

He pointed at Ben with the index finger of the hand that held his beer can. "Live your life, okay? Make it count for something."

Subconsciously, Ben touched the watch on her wrist. She had no idea what it meant, but it had to mean something. And meaning something was like counting for something, right?

"You better believe it, Grandpa."

"You better believe it."

The sky had darkened as Erik fumbled with his house keys, entering into the massive doorway of the immense house and shutting the door behind himself. He leaned back against it, sighing heavily as he let the camera bag drop slowly to the floor off of his shoulder.

Another day wasted.

Muffled sounds from the nearby living room television caught his ears as he retrieved the pack once again and headed over. There sat his teenage sister, long brown hair cascading over her shoulders as she sat glued to the television program, however she did hear his footsteps and soon turned to face him.

"How was filming, Spielberg?"

Erik just shrugged, setting his bag down and limply taking a seat in a nearby recliner. The large, flat-screen TV reflected plenty of light onto him making his defeated expression quite visible. His sister cocked her head and frowned.

"Can I at least see what you did?"

"I don't think I'm going to keep it, Ellie." He responded flatly.

"...You're a jerk, Erik..." Ellie muttered, glaring in his direction.

"What?" He finally glanced over, looking genuinely confused.

"You're a jerk. Noun. Slang. A contemptibly naive, fatuous, foolish, or inconsequential person."

"I know what it means!!!" He snapped back. "I'm asking why!"

"It's just... You never let me see your stuff anymore. You barely let anyone. When you do, it's because you're forced to, and all you do is bitch about it. Then you go and delete hard work of yours, as well as your friends who are helping you out of the goodness of their hearts, just because you can't grow up and learn to get some opinions other than your own."

"How long have you been waiting to say that..."

"I dunno. When was the last time you filmed?" Ellie shrugged, looking back to the TV.

She was right. His sixteen year old sister told him to grow up, and she was right. Still, he couldn't escape that feeling of inadequacy. It was hard to pinpoint what pushed him into this state of mind, but filmmaking had been his passion since his mother had gotten him that video camera for his 13th birthday. Seven years later, he thought he would be better, but it really felt like there had been no noticeable improvement. Erik was starting to wonder if he didn't have any innate talent for the thing he was passionate about. The idea scared him.

"Mom's still at work, right?" He inquired, changing the subject.

"That's a dumb question." Ellie responded rather matter-of-factly. Erik nodded. Their mother was a trauma surgeon. She was one of the best in the country. It supported them very well, but it made her a rare sight at the house. In a way, Erik had to help raise Ellie and matured quickly in some ways because of it, and so had she due to her need to become independent more quickly. Their father had abandoned them when Erik was a child and Ellie was an infant, but at least they had each other. It was one reason why Ellie felt so comfortable being so blunt with her brother.

"Anyway... How're you?"

"Fantastic!" She beamed, her mood changing instantaneously. It was almost as if the previous conversation hadn't happened at all. Erik was at least thankful that his dour mood hadn't infected her. "The Large Hadron Collider observed pentaquarks! By accident! Can you believe that?"

"No! I can't believe it! Because I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Ellie sighed softly. "A previously hypothetical subatomic particle. If we can understand them then we might be able to further understand the physics behind neutron stars!" Erik's blank stare made it clear he was not quite as impressed as she was and she tried to think of something else. "Umm, oh and Pluto! Tell me you know about Pluto!"

"I've seen the pictures. Pretty cool. It's uh. It's got a heart on it." Erik tried to engage, but truth was he hadn't paid too much attention to it.

"God, Erik. Doesn't it fascinate you?? The science behind it all? The lack of impact craters suggests that it might be less than a hundred million years old. Pluto may have still been forming when dinosaurs were around!" Ellie continued, her voice full of passion and wonder. It was actually really adorable, and he was proud and slightly jealous of how intelligent she was, especially for her age. Erik had always been considered a smart guy, but in his eyes his sister blew him out of the water.

"It does. I mean, it really is interesting. I just.. I dunno. Hard to motivate myself to learn about it all right now. Especially tonight. Maybe I'm starting to come down with something... I feel kinda weird. Like my head is really heavy or something. I'm gonna take a shower and then turn in for the night. Got class tomorrow, anyway. And you have school too, so don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Yes, mother."

"Very good..." He uttered as he pushed up from the chair and grabbed the camera bag, heading toward the stairs. Ellie leaned over the couch and called out to him.

"Once you become a big time director, please ask to direct some Doctor Who, okay?? If you do, you have to promise to take me to the set! By all the powers in this universe I will see the TARDIS before I die!!"

As Ben lay sleeping, she twisted and turned, tangled up in her sleeping bag.

Bizarre dreams. Faraway places. Long ago galaxies.

Voices in the dark.

Premonitions?

And as she fitfully, restlessly slept, The Watch on her wrist flickered its green light...

[Recalibration initiated,] it murmured.

...and that green light turned blue.

[Upgrading firmware.]

[Updating and internalizing Codon Stream.]

[Analyzing user preferences.]

[Reconfiguring external housing.]

...at this, The Watch glowed a brighter blue, and actually... shapeshifted... impossible circuitry became visible against an amorphous field of black and black flowed and the circuitry glowed and after a moment everything solidified once more.

Into this.

[Recalibration complete.]

Somewhere else in The Universe, on a distant, semi-aquatic world, a tiny creature opened bulbous eyes to gaze at a blinking readout and croaked, in astonishment-- "It's alive."

"Perhaps all is not lost, after all."

In her sleep, Ben absently scratched at her left wrist, and then rolled over again, and went back to deeper sleep.

When she woke in the morning, blinking bleary weariness out of her eyes amidst the brightness of the sun through the canopy of trees, she was in for a shock, staring down at her wrist as she sat up--

"Whoa. What the Hell are you?"

"If that's your way," Kevin-- Gwendolyn's boyfriend, big, broad-shouldered, long black hair, scar on his chin, "of wondering why your alarm didn't go off, don't feel too bad. You're the last one up but at least you missed Max' idea of a camp breakfast. Ugh, I never ate Klingon cuisine before."

Gwendolyn sauntered up beside Kevin, slipped her arm around Kevin's waist. "Everyone's packing up to head home. If you get your stuff together now, you might just get back to Bellwood in time for afternoon classes."

Zipping out of her bag, Ben rolled grumpily to her feet. "Yeah, yeah."

Her stomach gurgled, and she put a hand on it. "But I'm totally getting drive-thru."


It took some convincing, but she did manage to get Max to stop off at a Gas'n'Go so she could at least microwave a breakfast burrito or something.

As she waited for the loud, bulky black oven with the busted turntable, Ben glanced idly up at the TV that the convenience store had running. The Will Harangue Show-- some kind of guest panel or something, arguing-- Will Harangue loved his arguments.

"You're being deliberately obtuse," argued conspiracy vlogger Jimmy Jones, pointing at his opponent. "If you examine the reported sightings over the years--"

"I have examined these records," replied Dr. Aloysius J. Animo, simpering, hands folded, looking rather like Dwight Schultz, "and as I have doctorates in zoology and cryptozoology, I can assure you that nothing has been glimpsed by man that cannot be explained by gaps in the fossil record. Your claims of extraterrestrial close encounters are specious, dubious, and hyperbolic at best."

The far younger, freckly redhead-- he looked a bit like Jimmy Olsen, or maybe Archie --sat back in his studio chair and glared. "Not at all, 'Doctor' Animo. In fact, famed archaeologist Kai Green made some discoveries in Dos Santos, the rubble of the long-lost Meso-American 'Temple of The Sky,' that clearly indicate the involvement of ancient aliens--"

"More to the point," burst in host Will Harangue, American flag lapel pin gleaming, spectacles straight, paranoid sensationalist politicized bluster in full effect, "if aliens have been worming their way into our society, our civilization, worming perhaps literally, then what nefarious purposes are they trying to accomplish? And how can we weed them out?"

Jimmy blinked and stared. "Actually, Mr. Harangue, I was thinking that we could learn from--"

Harangue interrupted Jones yet again. "Yes, that's right, learn from our mistakes, letting them manipulate us this long. We the People are stronger, and smarter than that-- the existence of such superheroes as the Billions-funded 'Vengers: Captain Nemesis, the reformed supercriminal Kangaroo Kommando, and the rest-- proves that we are a species to be reckoned with. And if we have been usurped or meddled with by menaces from beyond the stars, then there will be a reckoning."

Jimmy looked panicked. "No, that's not what I'm trying to say, you're turning it into a witch hunt--"

"If the witches didn't have something to hide," Harangue snapped, "then we wouldn't need to hunt them. We're taking a break, my Will of Rights after this."

Ben had a sick feeling in her stomach as the microwave pinged and she brought the burrito up to the front. She wasn't sure she was hungry anymore.

Again, she made sure her sleeve was covering The Watch-- easier now that it wasn't a big ol' clunky thing.

Whatever it was, it wasn't from Earth.

She shuddered softly to herself as she climbed back into The Rustbucket and chewed worriedly as Max drove.


She had been considering skipping classes that afternoon to poke at The Watch and try and suss out its purpose or function, but sobered by the realization that there could be consequences to having something alien, she rethought that. Not to mention, all the prodding her family had done at the reunion. She didn't really want to face her mom and dad after that, so she steered clear of the house after she left Max at the trailer park where he kept his Rustbucket.

Instead, she showered at the gym and headed to school.

Without a job, she couldn't afford the motorcycle she desperately wanted, but that was okay-- she got along okay with her old ten-speed, at least for now. It was functional enough to go short distances, like from her parents' suburban home to the Community College, without being fancy enough that she worried about it getting stolen from the bike rack every day.

Professor Lieber was in rare form-- energetic even for a spindly old guy in sunglasses-- standing up at the whiteboard with a marker, sketching a thing out wildly.

"--he pioneered a thing we still call Kirby Dots," he explained, "or Kirby Krackle, a brilliant method of illustrating negative space around otherworldly or fantastic energies. Superhero and science fiction comics wouldn't be the same without it."

Ben had her hand on her chin, and was trying to focus-- this was a topic near and dear to her heart. After all, she'd been middle-named after Jack "The King" Kirby, and she'd named her pet cat Jack after the same fella. Even her beloved Sumo Slammers comics owed vast stylistic debts to Kirby, and it was a crying shame that he hadn't been better compensated in his life for his gifts to the art form.

But that Watch still felt heavy on her wrist, and her reasons for being here kept creeping further and further away-- damn maturity and moments of clarity, screw Will Harangue and his fear-mongering.

Soon as classes were done for the day, she was gonna go out to the desert outside the city proper and try this thing out for real.

"Now," Professor Lieber continued, "remember what we were discussing about naming conventions for characters, I was always a fan of alliteration myself. Kirby liked giving his characters titles-- Captain America, The Guardian of Metropolis, Mister Miracle ah, alliteration-- but these days we're all about compound words and portmanteaux, Kirby did some of that, too. Lightray, in particular, Darkseid..."

Being a student filmmaker had its share of hurdles, especially for Erik. Writing was not his forte, at least it wasn't in his mind. If he was a big shot movie director, then he would be able to focus on telling the story through the shots. Someone else would write the screenplay, and his time would be almost limitless.

That wasn't the case here. One could argue that the standards were not as high for his projects than a studio film actually being released into theaters. He wasn't part of a business trying to make money. That thought didn't give him much comfort, however. Erik was his own harshest critic, which all artists of any sort would be able to relate to. For some, such self-criticism would allow the artist to try and take a broader look at their piece and consider it from multiple angles and points of view. For Erik, it just became a crippling insecurity.

Not good enough. Never good enough. Always someone better.

His grades were good. People liked his work. What was the issue, really? No one started out as the next Orson Welles. Still, Erik felt that the true successes came from people who had some sort of almost supernatural ability to envision perfection. Erik was a competitive person. He didn't want to settle for merely being good; He wanted to be the best.

The film student sat at the desk in his classroom, accompanied by fellow students working on their own projects. His bright laptop screen reflected into his glasses nearly giving the glass that exaggerated anime glare. His eyes were focused so intently that one might think he really could see each frame individually as it played, watching for any sign of imperfection. Truthfully, he saw plenty, but he wasn't above getting help. His professor would remain after class just for such reasons, and Erik would ask for his advice. Again.

Bellwood Community College didn't seem like a high enough reach for someone as intelligent as Erik, but the truth was he rather liked the more relaxed atmosphere of a school like this. Besides, he still had that uncertainty deep inside that maybe he was headed down the wrong path with his choice of career. If he was going to make a sudden change, then it would be good to do it while still at a place like this, rather than some high end film school.

There was also the fact that despite Erik's mother's job, he didn't want to burden her with the task of paying for some ridiculously expensive school. Sure, he could take out student loans but...

A very wise woman once posed a question: Was there such thing as an absolute timeless enemy? An enemy today could be an ally tomorrow.

The answer was yes. Student loans were an absolute timeless enemy and the scourge of the nation's youth. The loan companies were basically involved in criminal practices. Decades of debt? No thank you.

---

"Erik, on a technical level, what you produce is excellent work. I just don't know what else I can give you at this point. I can't tell you what sort of artistic direction to give it. That has to come from you." The blonde, middle-aged man informed his student as he raised his eyes from the screen.

Erik looked obviously troubled and the teacher took a silent breath. "Ask yourself, what are you striving to achieve? What... emotions do you wish to invoke? Find your ultimate goal and work towards that, rather than... hoping you'll be inspired mid-creation."

"It's really hard to think about... I guess I... want to have what I do be recognizable... You see so many movies and you almost never really think about who directs them, until you watch something from Tarantino or Lynch or Hitchcock." Erik replied, running a hand through his hair.

"Well... if you want to distinguish yourself from the rest, then you need to develop a style. To do that, you likely need to be inspired by something. Figure out what inspires you, and... transform it."

"Transform it... Yeah. I'll think about that... Thanks, Mr. Collins."

----

Erik moved through the hallway in only a semi-cognizant state. He was wracking his brain for any sort of jumping off point, but the deep thought was probably doing more harm than good. Occasionally he'd brush shoulders with someone but it was ignored until suddenly he was struck by an intense feeling throughout his entire body. It was so overwhelming that Erik stumbled against a nearby wall, putting his back to it as his mind raced at what could possibly cause such a feeling.

If he were able to describe it, it would be as if his whole body was in an extreme state of tension. It was painful, but there was so much stress surging through him that he could barely breathe enough to cry out. All his focus was directed on just trying to gasp some air. That's when he saw the visions.

It was difficult to truly understand what he was seeing, but among the shroud of darkness he saw creatures of inexplicable form, some almost nightmarish in their seemingly-deformed appearance. They all flashed by as quickly as they arrived making it impossible to truly try and understand what he was seeing, until one creature in particular became clear in his mind. A monster that was a mass of hair, talons, teeth and horns; It was almost wolf-like in its anatomy, but far more... alien.

Then his vision cleared and he was back in the hallway. Erik took a few deep breaths as he leaned against the wall. The pain was gone, and so were the visions... Erik raised a hand to his forehead as he took one last deep breath and closed his eyes.

"What... the fuck..." He muttered to himself.

As previously noted, Professor Lieber was in rare form.

He launched straight from these discussions of stylistic influences and naming conventions to--

"--but what does all this mean?"

"There's the way we've done this for decades, Hell, almost a hundred years now, superhero comics, almost of century of what's come before. And it's important to pay homage to that, to not forget the contributions of the past. But how do we spin that into new, imaginative ways of doing things? How do we each find our own distinctive voice?"

"There's no straight single answer for that."

"As much as I despise Rob Liefeld and his stilted dialogue and his hamfisted, slapdash art, his style wound up helping to define an era of comics alongside McFarlane and Silvestri and Jim Lee-- and two of his creations, Deadpool and Supreme, each became epic when passed along to other writers. Deadpool became the voice of a generation's Zeitgeist, combining irreverence and and metareference and sex and violence with heart and soul and tragedy. Supreme transmuted at the touch of Alan Moore into a glorious tribute to the Mort Weisinger era of Superman comics and indeed, all the eras of Superman. So even with Liefeld's demonstrable lack of talent, he changed the course of comics history."

"Work hard. Dig deep. Keep thinking. Keep listening to the voice of the people, to their longings and their searchings, and put that into story and put that into song, etch that into panels and weave it into scripts. Take what's come before and keep what's good and flip it into what's next-- and when you find something missing, fill that gap with something new."

"Edison said something about the difference between perspiration and inspiration when he was stealing the light bulb and electricity from people who had come before him, I forget the exact percentages--"

[New lifeforms identified,] Ben's watch declared loudly.

Ben jumped, as did over half the class-- the one time Ben had been paying rapt attention to a class and now this bizarre thing on her wrist was talking and not quietly at all-- and it even sounded like a digitally-modulated version of Ben's own voice--

"What? What are you talking about?" Ben demanded incredulously, not really expecting an answer, what even was this thing?

Professor Lieber frowned, feeling a bit of whiplash, he had seriously been on a roll-- "Miss Tennyson, Ben-- Bernice--"

The watch's face reconfigured to show something resembling a radar screen or a motion-tracker from Halo, a circle with a red dot blinking off-center from its radius. [Subjects in range,] it continued, though it wasn't at all apparent whether it was saying this in response to Ben's question or if it was just rattling off the next entry on its internal cue card. [Attempting DNA Analysis and code acquisition.]

It felt like the whole world was staring at Ben's watch, not the least of which was Ben herself, or Professor Lieber-- "Ben, what the actual Hell--?"

"Professor, I'm sorry, I--"

The watch bleated sadly.

[Acquisition failed due to incomplete DNA sequences.]

The red dot blinked into an "X" shape surrounded by a square, and then vanished, and the watch's face reverted to its previous configuration.

[Given that DNA samples were corrupted beyond this unit's ability to repair,] it seemed to decide, [and acquisition failure was out of wearer's control, standard lockout procedure will not be enacted at this time. Omnitrix functions remain enabled.]


Ben blinked. "'Omnitrix,'" she murmured, mystified. The term sounded... important. Was that what this was? What it was called?

The watch-- Omnitrix? --didn't talk again, and Ben breathed a sigh of relief only to realize that Professor Lieber was staring at her.

Ben managed a wobbly, nervous smile. "Uh, sorry, Professor, I--" think of something, think of something-- "I'm beta-testing this new smartwatch-- and it has this built-in Augmented Reality game where you, uh, acquire genetic samples--"

Lieber squinted dubiously. "Is this like a Pokeyman thing?"

"Pokémon," Ben corrected automatically, "and-- sort of-- sort of like that--"

"Well," Professor Lieber pushed his ever-present sunglasses up his nose with a finger. "I hope your beta-testing includes a bug report about interrupting my class. That thing needs a mute function before they go live with it."

Ben laughed an overloud, nerve-wracked laugh. "Ah-hahaha, oh, you are-- you are exactly right, Professor, trust me, the people who made this thing are gonna hear about--"

The bell rang, shrilly, and the class dissolved, students grabbing books and shouldering backpacks as Professor Lieber called out reading assignments.

Ben managed to sneak away in the hubbub, but a few corners down the hallway later, she thudded against a wall next to a bank of lockers and glared at the watch.

"Okay. What the actual Hell are you?"

The... Omnitrix... didn't respond, just gazed back at her with its face blank.

"You and me have a date tonight. Q-and-A session. And if I don't like the answers, I'm going to get you off of my wrist if I have to steal a blowtorch from Grandpa Max' plumbing shop to do it."

Blank stare.

Ben grimaced. And kept walking.

"Okay, whatever, no more talking in class!"


Ben detached her 10-speed from the bike rack on the front of the bus and watched it rumble off down the highway.

Thirty miles outside of town was a long haul and a half, but she'd read somewhere that that was minimum safe distance for a nuclear explosion-- whatever this thing was, that seemed like a sufficient precaution.

The California desert surrounded her, the night clear and stars twinkling the way they never would through Bellwood's light pollution. They almost seemed to call to the watch-- almost seemed to sing to it on a subconscious level.

Ben grunted. "What's next," she muttered to herself, "poetry?"

Locking her bike onto a nearby signpost, Ben trudged away from the road, hands in the pocket of her hoodie-- it got cold out in the desert at night, like Elton John singing about Mars.

It wasn't until she got a few hundred yards from the highway that she pulled her hand out of her pocket, rolled back her sleeve, and squinted at her watch.

"Okay. No visible buttons in this mode, not like when you first glommed on to me."

She prodded the face of the watch with a finger-- nothing happened, initially-- but then she began pressing her fingertip around the rim of the watch-face. As soon as she hit the 12:00 position, however, the watch lit up-- and a ring of green light projected like a hologram above it. In the ring of green light there were glyphs-- they almost looked like faces? Ben couldn't make them out.

Warily, that same sort of sense of alarm bells mixed with belonging ricocheting about in her brain, Ben reached for one of those faces-- again, the one at the 12:00 position on this "dial."

And when she touched it, the ring of light winked out, the watch face opened like a hatch, and a big round button rose from inside the watch that looked like the original watch-face before the thing reconfigured on her wrist in the night-- that hourglass symbol, kind of like a Roman numeral "X." Perhaps most bewilderingly of all, the flat face of the watch could no way be deep enough to hold this protrusion-- was the watch bigger on the inside?

Moth to flame all over again, skin and nerves tingling with the electricity of the moment's portent...

...Ben extended that finger once again, and pushed the button.

SWOOOSH.

Green light crashed around her like a storm-- green light and Kirby Dots.

And she felt herself--

--growshiftlurchchange--

--metamorphose--

--it was like being "beamed up" except she wasn't going anywhere and someone new was getting beamed in--

--her skin turned green, red thorny spikes came up from her shoulders--

--she felt her flesh grow taut and starched--

--felt her skeletal structure dissolve, it should have been agony but it was over in an instant--

--felt new structures blossom in her brain, felt old ones wither away--

--and she stood, staring at arboreal, verdant hands, her arboreal, verdant body, methane gas exuding from her pores--

--and she screamed--

"AHHHHHHH!"

"AHHHHHHHH!"

"Oh-- oh fuck-- what-- what did-- what just--"

--her voice didn't sound like her, it was deeper and slower and someone else entirely, like she was performing ventriloquism with one of The Entwives--

--a nearby cactus burst into flame like she was kid Drew Barrymore having a bad day, holy shit, did she do that, did she make fire--

--oh, man, she could hear the cactus burning in her head, she could feel its pain, could she talk to plants, was she like Swamp Thing or something--?

--hey, yeah, Swamp Thing could make fire too, right, he breathed out this special kind of gas--

--all of this barrel-rolled through Ben's mind in a jumbled, panicked instant--

"AHHHHHH--"

--when she stopped for breath for an instant, ready to bellow out another bewildered yell--

--but as she inhaled, she sniffed--

--and it brought her up short, short enough to jar her out of body-horror panic-mode for a moment.

"Eugh, what's that smell? Is-- is that me?"

Erik winced a bit as the bright light flashed from one eye to the other. A middle-aged, tall African-American woman in a long white coat slipped the penlight back into her pocket and offered a warm smile.

"Well, I don't see anything wrong with you, Erik. We'll run your samples for tests, but I think you may have just had a particularly rough anxiety attack..." She offered calmly. Erik sighed softly, mostly with relief. Still, he couldn't help but worry. What he felt didn't seem like an anxiety attack after all. What about the vision? Sure, his mind managed to create all sorts of abstract creatures and things during dreams, but he wasn't asleep. That... monster... felt real, somehow. He didn't feel comfortable explaining it, even to someone who was both a doctor and a friend.

"Maybe you're right... I guess I just wanted to be sure, you know? Thanks for squeezing me in your schedule, Beth." Erik responded with a half smile as he stood up off the exam table. "Is... mom around?"

Beth gave a small shake of her head, her smile fading somewhat. "Surgery. Not expected to be out for another five hours at least."

Erik nodded. It was as he expected. He couldn't help feel slightly disappointed anyway. "Well, tell her hi for me if you see her...

Er... Actually maybe not. I think I'd rather she not know I came in. I don't want her to suddenly freak out and start worrying."

"Doctor-Patient confidentiality." She chuckled, placing a hand on Erik's arm with care. "She's not a lab tech, so I see no reason why she'll happen across your name on any files. She's a bit too busy, after all. I'll give you a call when I get your test results, all right? Until then, I suggest you get some more sleep... Don't push yourself too hard."

Erik nodded, giving another half smile before heading to the door.


Erik lazily clicked through the pages of a forum thread on his desktop PC while a video played on the second monitor. He was barely paying attention to either. His eyes just stared straight forward motionlessly, indicating that no actual reading was happening, or at least no comprehension. Finally his eyes slid over to the video camera upon the desk. He stared at it for what felt like ten minutes until a movement in his peripheral vision returned his attention to the monitor.

NeonCaster has invited you to join a game of Borderlands 2. Click here to join.

Alex's game invite shook him back to reality for a moment. He typed a response to the invite that was just a series of question marks.

[drew and i were going to start a fresh bl2 run. you in?]

[You guys go ahead. Not really feeling it at the moment...]

[hm anything you want to play then? were flexible. dont suggest dota though drew will sever your spine and then taunt you with a cool cyborg body that he will then destroy in front of you]

[Wow, okay. Don't be ridiculous. I don't want to play fucking Dota. Actually, I think I'm going to head out and shoot some more B-roll environment and atmosphere footage. I have an itch to get some nighttime desert shots.]

[boooooooo lame. well hit me up later if you change your mind.]

Erik wasn't entirely sure why he wanted to shoot there. No immediate use for that footage was coming to mind. It didn't hurt to follow through on unexpected moments of motivation, though. Perhaps the scenery would inspire him once he arrived? With that, he slipped on his olive cargo jacket, grabbed his camera and headed out.

The sky was dark by the time he arrived. It seemed like an unreasonable distance and normally Erik wouldn't make such a trek for footage unless it was necessary. He couldn't quite figure out where this sudden spark of motivation came from, but there was no use fighting it now. Once he was parked off the highway he grabbed his camera and headed out into the desolate silence. After a few minutes he stopped and began to scan the horizon with his camera. It was pretty dark, and the low light setting wasn't working as well as he had hoped. Sure, the night-vision mode worked, but it wasn't really worthy of footage for a film unless you were one of a million people trying to cash in on the found-footage movie craze.

He couldn't help but gaze up at the stars after a while. There was something soothing and peaceful about this moment. Being out here alone would normally feel a bit too eerie, but right now it somehow felt... right. He panned the camera across the sky, knowing that at least footage of this would be great to have. The stars just seemed so much more vibrant tonight.

It was then that a flash of light caught Erik's eye. A green light to be more specific. It was gone as quickly as it arrived, and Erik could only stand there with a perplexed expression. "The fuck...?"

There was another flash of light, but this time it seemed unmistakably like fire. Erik's eyes widened. A million thoughts ran through his head. Should he call for help? Should he make a break for his car? Should he investigate? The latter seemed crazy. If he went over there alone then the next found footage movie would be made about him giving them free reign to say it was based on a true story. Erik had a tendency to be a pessimist at times. Something was telling him to go, however. Perhaps it was an instinctive need to see if someone was hurt and needed immediate help. Perhaps it was just sheer curiosity. He didn't know, and frankly he was mentally kicking himself for even considering to walk in that direction, but his feet moved practically on their own.

As he got closer to the source, he could make out an odd silhouette, along with, sure enough, a burning cactus. Erik crouched down, attempting to approach more stealthily. He could only hope that his years of playing Metal Gear Solid would pay off. The camera was still in his hand, pointed forward. He quickly switched on night-vision, glanced into the viewer, and gulped.

It was some sort of... humanoid thing. Was it someone testing some elaborate film costume? The thought flashed through his mind: What if this was an alien? What if he was going to be the first human contact? What if it wasn't friendly...?

Erik was beginning to think that maybe... just maybe... he had watched too many movies.

He crept a bit closer, getting behind a rock and tried to get another look. The first thing to hit him though was the smell. It was repulsive, and nearly made him gag. He managed to compose himself, but only for a moment once he got a look at the... thing. It looked as if it was some sort of... plant? But the shape was definitely humanoid. The curvature even made it look... female? Erik made sure to keep the camera focused on the creature as much as he could while still remaining hidden. His breathing and heart rate were increasing rapidly, but he remained dead silent.

Suddenly the camera dropped to the ground, eventually resting sideways, as Erik collapsed onto his hands and knees. The feeling from earlier in the day was shooting through him again. It felt like... something inside his body was desperate to burst out of him. Going like the guy in Alien was not the most pleasant thought...

"Fuuuuuuck..." He growled, gritting his teeth and doing his absolute best to try and not alert the thing he had seen, but it was unlikely to miss him with the commotion he had just created. He knew he needed to get up and run, but he couldn't. The pain was almost unbearable and it took all his energy not to scream out loud enough that the whole desert would hear.

"No no no no not now..." He hissed, his eyes turning toward the green figure, wondering if it was going to approach him, and what it might to once it did...

It was a good thing, turned out, she'd decided to do this in a desert. If she'd turned into this-- fiery-- swamp-- creature-- in the woods? God, she would have started a forest fire, how embarrassing would that have been?

Senses were all weird.

Like she was seeing by photosynthesis--?

Smelling by cellular respiration--?

--and yet she could make sense of it all, like there was another mind in here working with her to decode all these new inputs and experiences.

This body was strong, way stronger than any plant had any right to be, she could feel it in the sinewy tendrils any time she moved-- like she could Fastball Special a pick-up truck, or topple a water tower--

--hey, this form had a pretty sweet rack, too, but what sense did that make, plants having boobs, she wasn't a botanist but weren't plants, like, hermaphroditic with pistils and stamens and stuff?

Nestled between and just above her breasts, where her collarbone would have been, if she still had bones, there sat that circular hourglass symbol again. Was that the symbol of The Omnitrix? It did seem a pretty consistent motif...

So focused, was Ben, on this new... configuration...

...that she had no idea that an eyewitness was right on top of her until, well, he was right on top of her.

Ahren said:

Suddenly the camera dropped to the ground, eventually resting sideways, as Erik collapsed onto his hands and knees. The feeling from earlier in the day was shooting through him again. It felt like... something inside his body was desperate to burst out of him. Going like the guy in Alien was not the most pleasant thought...

"Fuuuuuuck..." He growled, gritting his teeth and doing his absolute best to try and not alert the thing he had seen, but it was unlikely to miss him with the commotion he had just created. He knew he needed to get up and run, but he couldn't. The pain was almost unbearable and it took all his energy not to scream out loud enough that the whole desert would hear.

"No no no no not now..." He hissed, his eyes turning toward the green figure, wondering if it was going to approach him, and what it might to once it did...

Click to expand...

She missed the sound of the camera hitting the sound, but that first growled curse word rang in her ears and she whirled to look at him, narrowing her eyes--

--wait, did he look familiar? Had Ben seen him around somewhere? ...at school?

(Vaguely, distantly, she registered that he was cute enough that she should have remembered him better if she'd seen him, her Kinsey Scale was flexible enough for that.)

Oh, Hell, he had a camera. He had a camera and he looked like he was having some kind of stress-fit or panic-attack or something.

He could upload this crap to Jimmy Jones' weblog and she would get locked up and dissected by the government--

--was Area 51 really a thing? Could she end up locked away in some greenhouse or hydroponics lab at Area 51?

"Don't--" she hesitated, oh, man, that voice sounded weird, like a genderbent Dee Bradley Baker with a frog in her throat, "--don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a superhero."

"I'm--"

She glanced down at her hands.

Swamp Thing.

Swamp Thing that makes fire.

Professor Lieber's explanation of naming conventions scrambled through her brain as though miles off but crystal clear.

"SWAMPFIRE!"

Erik's mind darkened until it could comprehend no thoughts. Instead, there was just an image. Clearer now he could envision the horrible wolf-like beast. It was a hellish looking creature, eyeless with towering horns and massive claws that looked very suitable for rending flesh. Its grey hair flowed almost as if each strand was living, significantly covering the left arm in particular. The sound that emitted from the gaping maw full of jagged teeth didn't sound like something any earthly creature would make. It echoed deep in Erik's mind, almost as if it was attempting to penetrate his very consciousness.

With what little awareness he had left, Erik suddenly noticed the strange plant creature turn in his direction. It was enough to jerk him back to reality and stumble sideways. He quickly grabbed his camera and began to back away, only to be met with the large rock. There was no telling what this thing would do, so his only chance was to sprint as fast as he could back to the car, but before he could take another step it spoke to him.

"Don't... don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a superhero." It croaked.

Erik adjusted his glasses which had nearly fallen off of his nose as he just stared blankly. Total confusion had now overwritten his desire to run in terror.

"I'm--" It continued, pausing a moment as if to consider itself before finally declaring..."SWAMPFIRE!"

The blank stare continued though he eventually blinked once. "A.. what?" Erik took a breath and now looked considerably less worried. He even chuckled softly as he glanced around the seemingly empty desert night. "Oooookay... That's funny. This is funny. I'll admit, you had me going for a second. Did I stumble into some sort of Candid Camera revival?

Kudos to you, really. That's a really good outfit. Who designed it? I wonder if they're willing to do some work for me... Though, if you don't mind me saying, whatever it is made out of seriously reeks. I feel bad for whoever is in there right now."

The brown-haired student took a moment to glance down at his camera. Thankfully it only seemed to get a few scratches and was still functional. He held it up and pointed it at... Swampfire. He wanted to get a few shots of this impressive work, but there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something was telling him that this "joke" didn't make much sense. His smile faded and an uncertain look replaced it. He put the camera back down and turned his head slightly as if to imply further skepticism.

"Y.. you are kidding, right? You uh... I mean... Superhero is not the first thing that would come to my mind is all..." He raised a hand slightly outward as he questioned the powerful-smelling entity.

Ahren said:

The blank stare continued though he eventually blinked once. "A.. what?" Erik took a breath and now looked considerably less worried. He even chuckled softly as he glanced around the seemingly empty desert night. "Oooookay... That's funny. This is funny. I'll admit, you had me going for a second. Did I stumble into some sort of Candid Camera revival?"

Click to expand...

"It's--" Swampfire stammered, bewilderedly, she hadn't expected to be shot down like that so immediately, that was a cool name, was she not impressive? She certainly felt impressive! She couldn't see her face, was there something on her face? Did this plant creature have like horrifying disfiguring zits or something? "--not funny!"

Ahren said:

"Kudos to you, really. That's a really good outfit. Who designed it? I wonder if they're willing to do some work for me... Though, if you don't mind me saying, whatever it is made out of seriously reeks. I feel bad for whoever is in there right now."

Click to expand...

She hesitated. Yeah, smelling like a walking fart-joke probably didn't help her case at all. "Um. Yeah. You know, swamp gas. All the good superheroes have shortcomings like that, you know? Spider-Man could never pay the bills, Ben Grimm looked like-like a thing. Mine is that, I, uh, smell like The Creature From The Bog of Eternal Stench."

Ahren said:

The brown-haired student took a moment to glance down at his camera. Thankfully it only seemed to get a few scratches and was still functional. He held it up and pointed it at... Swampfire. He wanted to get a few shots of this impressive work, but there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something was telling him that this "joke" didn't make much sense. His smile faded and an uncertain look replaced it. He put the camera back down and turned his head slightly as if to imply further skepticism.

"Y.. you are kidding, right? You uh... I mean... Superhero is not the first thing that would come to my mind is all..." He raised a hand slightly outward as he questioned the powerful-smelling entity.

Click to expand...

Swampfire tensed a bit as the camera raised towards her, and relaxed a bit when he lowered it without clicking the shutter. She wasn't sure why she was camera-shy--

--but if she was stuck like this, like, forever, she would prefer to have a headstart on hiding out before they came at her with the pitchforks and the torches.

Although, so far as torches went, she could apparently give more than she could get.

"Okay, yeah, so, I haven't actually technically done any superheroing yet. But I feel strong enough to bench a bus, and--"

--she held out her hand and some of that gas hissed from, like, pores or orifices or something woven into her leafy flesh, and with a thought she ignited it--

--a split-second jet of white-hot flame blasted a patch of sand like ten yards from Erik, and instantly turned the grains of silicate to molten glass.

"--I can do that. So, you know, great power. I figure I've got the responsibility that goes with it. That's how this is supposed to work, right?"

Erik's thoughts were being pulled in a dozen different directions, and his emotions with them. If this was some sort of prank, it was certainly a very odd way of doing it. She (at least so he thought) wasn't trying to scare him or make him react in any sort of way that would be entertaining to someone watching. She didn't seem to be hostile or threatening in any way either. So what the hell had he just stumbled onto? Was this really some... superhero in the making?

It sounded ridiculous. It couldn't be true. It was too hard to believe. But as the strange creature continued to explain itself, it decided to try and prove its capabilities by emitting an intensely hot stream of flame toward an area Erik considered dangerously close. So close that he nearly leapt back in surprise. So close that he could feel the extreme heat, and witness the incredible results. The glasslike substance that was once sand actually caused his jaw to drop. This couldn't be just someone in a suit. No way they could produce that sort of temperature with that sort of control with a concealed device hidden within.

The legitimacy of the creature's claims were becoming more apparent. Erik wondered if there could be some sort of other explanation, but he simply wasn't able to figure it out. He wasn't a scientist by any means, but he knew enough to consider this very extraordinary. His dark brown gaze shifted back to Swampfire as he tried to search his brain for which question he wanted to ask first. Or whether or not he should just book it out of there and forget this even happened, or perhaps to stop at the hospital and figure out who dosed him and with what to make him hallucinate something like this.

"Wow... Okay... Uh... Swampfire..." He began, obviously having a bit of trouble saying the name with actual sincerity. "I'm going to go against better judgement, and take all this at face value. So then... are you... human? Did you stumble upon some sort of secret toxic waste dump while strolling through some distant quagmire...?"

He took a breath, taking a few steps closer to her so he could see a bit better. The smell was still a thing, for sure, but right now it really seemed to be the least of his concerns. He looked up into the creature's eyes, above his glasses, connecting with them. "Are you... stuck like this?"

Ahren said:

"Wow... Okay... Uh... Swampfire..." He began, obviously having a bit of trouble saying the name with actual sincerity. "I'm going to go against better judgement, and take all this at face value. So then... are you... human? Did you stumble upon some sort of secret toxic waste dump while strolling through some distant quagmire...?"

Click to expand...

Okay, she thought to herself. That's totally a fair question. I should get my origin story straight--

"It started when an alien device did what it did," Swampfire suggested. Not a lie, and not such a bad explanation for this as far as these things went.

Ahren said:

He took a breath, taking a few steps closer to her so he could see a bit better. The smell was still a thing, for sure, but right now it really seemed to be the least of his concerns. He looked up into the creature's eyes, above his glasses, connecting with them. "Are you... stuck like this?"

Click to expand...

He really was cute. The glasses made him look like some kinda Badass Bookworm, like if her cousin Gwendolyn had some sort of male equivalent. Looking at him closer, even in the dark, she couldn't help that lingering sense of nagging familiarity.

But that question, oh, that question, that was a Hell of a question, and it gave her pause. Because she didn't actually know! The Watch-- the Omnitrix-- had changed her into this thing. What if there was no off-switch, no reverse, no self-destruct--

--but then the symbol on her chest began blinking green, letting off a sound like some kind of... green alert?

And then KHZH a crash and clash of green green light and-- Kirby Dots--

--and she was Ben again, no longer Swampfire, bushy-brown-haired, green eyed, hoodie-clad and very startled. Thankfully, the smell almost immediately dissipated in the cool desert air.

Before she could stammer an explanation, however, she noticed that The Omnitrix was still flashing green, and pinging audibly.

She scowled at it. "What is up with you?"

After a moment of continued flashing and pinging, strobing Erik with the green light, The Omnitrix replied: [Severe genetic damage detected.]

Ben's green eyes immediately widened. "Oh, hey, not cool, you can't just go judging people's helixes like that--"

[Genetic code splicing error.]

[Should we attempt to repair?]

"No!" Ben sputtered. "That makes no sense! He's just some guy!"

The Omnitrix appeared to consider this. [Genetic damage matches anomalous incomplete DNA sequences detected earlier, and remains beyond this unit's ability to repair. Repair function temporarily suspended pending further analysis.]

And then it went silent, its green glow fading.

Ben arched an eyebrow down at her wrist. "I'm going to have to get a manual for this thing."

Erik wasn't sure what he expected when he asked the foul-smelling swamp... creature where it came from, but for some reason adding in 'alien device' as a factor only brought up more questions. It certainly didn't help that her explanation of the event was less than detailed. Every so often there was that nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him to just leave this alone, but... his curiosity was getting the better of him. If everything Swampfire was saying was true, about alien devices and super powers, then how could he possibly pass up the chance to see such things firsthand?

He felt the next question was obvious, but before he even had a chance to open his mouth again an icon the chest of the self-proclaimed superhero began to have a fit. Then there was an almost blinding flash of green light which caused Erik to raise his arm to shadow some of it while squinting his eyes.

Much like an answer to his question, Erik hadn't really known what to expect when he saw what he imagined was the creature's true form...

A young girl with somewhat untamed brown hair and green eyes. She couldn't have been any older than he was, if not younger. Cute, in that tomboyish sort of way. Of course, acknowledgement of any sort of attractiveness was quickly shuffled into the back of his mind. Neither of them could get a word out before the device on the girl's arm had yet another electronic seizure before showering him in a green light. Erik raised his arm and squinted again.

"Hey wha..." He began to protest, but all words were lost as his mind flashed with cryptic images not unlike the ones he had been seeing earlier. A dark, spherical shape amongst a void, or a black hole, or something equally cosmic and mysterious. Then the low growl echoed from that darkness, proceeding to get louder. Briefly, and suddenly, he saw that horrific savage creature; its jagged teeth, horns, and flowing tendrils of hair surrounding what looked like an impossible bone structure with a grotesquely visible, open ribcage with whatever inside not entirely able to be seen.

"STOP!" Erik suddenly shouted as he stumbled backward slightly, his hand moving up to his forehead as he tried to calm the sharp pain triggered by his vision.

The girl's watch, or whatever it was, spoke. Said something about genetic damage followed up by a statement that such damage could not be repaired. Erik stared intently at the device, which the young girl had claimed to be alien. It couldn't be a coincidence. That thing triggered his vision. The visions had only been happening recently, and from how the girl made it sound she was just beginning to learn how the thing even worked. The two had to be related somehow.

He wasn't quite sure if he was ready to explain to this girl whom he didn't even know what he had been seeing in the depths of his mind, but if he wanted to learn anything about what the visions meant and why he was having them he'd be better off staying near her as often as he reasonably could.

"I mean, genetic damage isn't too specific, you know..." He began, trying to play down his previous sudden outburst. "Osteoperosis runs in my family... me and almost all of my relatives need glasses. Whatever that thing is, it's probably not all that used to humans..." Erik tried to reason. He wasn't sure he believed what he was saying, but he hoped it was true. What was the alternative? Why else would an alien device consider him severely genetically damaged...?

Once again Erik turned his gaze into the girl's green eyes. She looked familiar. Had he seen her at school? Unfortunately he was terrible with names. She could very well be in one of his classes and he wouldn't know for sure. Regardless, there were things he needed to figure out and he imagined she felt the same way.

"Listen... I was out here just shooting some scenery footage, I was planning on getting something to eat afterward. Feel like joining me? I mean, it's kinda late so it would probably just be something fast... I'd just like to, you know... talk more about the weird shit that just went down, i guess?"

He chuckled lightly, tucking the video camera under one arm and holding out his hand. "I'm Erik, and I have a feeling Swampfire isn't the name on your birth certificate..."

Bernice Kirby Tennyson was many things. Way smarter than she let on, agile as a spider monkey (we'll laugh about this later), and up there with Sydney Scoville and Kamala Khan as one of the fangirliest ladies ever to actually get superpowers, what else was she going to be but a superheroine?

But of course she was also somewhat self-centered and aggrandizing, all too capable of buying into her own hype and being oblivious to the damage caused in her wake. She would grow to be better about that, permaybehaps someday, but that was not this day.

And thus it was only belatedly that she realized that this camera guy was experiencing some kind of conniption fit at the same time as her "Omnitrix." Come to think of it, hadn't he been wigging out at some damn thing when he first came rolling down the dune like Sarah, Plain and Tall? (See? She read a book that didn't have panels and voice bubbles. Try not to faint.)

She arched her eyebrows at him, eyes going wide, and then scrunched those eyebrows as her green eyes narrowed. "...dude, what is your damage?"

Ahren said:

"I mean, genetic damage isn't too specific, you know..." He began, trying to play down his previous sudden outburst. "Osteoperosis runs in my family... me and almost all of my relatives need glasses. Whatever that thing is, it's probably not all that used to humans..." Erik tried to reason.

Click to expand...

Ben nodded at this, an unironic "seems legit" sort of nod. "Hey, good point. Plus, you know, even if people are genetically a bit different, that still means they're people. Mutants from X-Men, people with Down Syndrome--" she scowled down at the watch "--stop being ableist and ubermensch, you jerk."

Ahren said:

Once again Erik turned his gaze into the girl's green eyes.

"Listen... I was out here just shooting some scenery footage, I was planning on getting something to eat afterward. Feel like joining me? I mean, it's kinda late so it would probably just be something fast... I'd just like to, you know... talk more about the weird shit that just went down, i guess?"

Click to expand...

Actually, Ben seriously wanted to spin up that watch again now that it was done being a genetic purist, see if she could go Swampfire again or if that was a one-time thing.

But he said that.

And her stomach gurgled in sympathetic approval, and she put her palm on that stomach as she glanced down at herself. She suddenly realized that that breakfast burrito seemed a long, loooooong time ago.

"Make it Burger Shack and you're on."

Mr. Smoothy smoothies were her all-time go-to but right now the situation demanded chili cheese fries.

Ahren said:

He chuckled lightly, tucking the video camera under one arm and holding out his hand. "I'm Erik, and I have a feeling Swampfire isn't the name on your birth certificate..."

Click to expand...

"Ben," she grinned, and shook his hand-- making sure to use her right hand, not the wrist with The Omnitrix, just in case it was a dick to him again. "Ben Tennyson. And, uh, do you have a car? I was gonna bike back into town, which right now seems like way too long a ride on way too little food."

ChasNicollette said:

"Make it Burger Shack and you're on."

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"Few other places can satisfy the cravings for grease-based substances, so it seems like we have a deal." Erik gave a half-smile, shaking the hand of the messy brown-haired girl. Thankfully she then offered a much more sensible name than Swampfire.

ChasNicollette said:

"Ben," she grinned, and shook his hand-- making sure to use her right hand, not the wrist with The Omnitrix, just in case it was a dick to him again. "Ben Tennyson. And, uh, do you have a car? I was gonna bike back into town, which right now seems like way too long a ride on way too little food."

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Normally one might make a comment about how Ben wasn't a name often heard on a girl, but after her initial introduction it may as well have been as common as 'Jennifer'. Erik nodded, and then shrugged nonchalantly as she inquired about a car.

"I do, in fact. Just promise me not to drool too much upon seeing the majestic 2003 Honda Civic with a busted front door and covered in scratches that I have yet to figure out how the previous owner even acquired them..." He joked as he led her back to where he had parked. Thankfully his trunk was pretty much empty, and with the back seats down Ben's bike was able to be stowed inside.

There wasn't much talk on the drive to Burger Shack as Erik answered a call from his sister (via the speaker, of course. He was not one of those assholes who holds the phone while driving). It was a fairly mundane call where she pretended to be checking to see if he was alright in order to then inform him at a warp-speed rare about the discovery of a pregnant dinosaur and how this could mean the potential for a real Jurassic Park and how soon should they preorder tickets?

Needless to say he declined, as the track record for that sort of thing wasn't too good. The look on Erik's face during this time showed that this was an entirely too common occurrence, but he humored his sibling nonetheless. While her long-winded stories or overflow of information could definitely get a bit tiring he never wanted to dissuade her from talking about things that interested her. If anything he envied that about her. She knew what interested her, and what she was good at. Erik was always drowning in self-doubt and indecisiveness.

Eventually the two new acquaintances arrived at their destination. Their food ordered and table chosen, Erik sat from across Ben and pondered. It took him a moment to realize he was staring at her, though it was more trying to pinpoint if he had seen her before or not, not that he was creeping on her. Well, not intentionally at least. He admitted to himself that she was cute, not just in appearance but personality. His most recent girlfriend, which was actually not all that recent, never would have wandered into the desert at night or agreed to a late night Burger Shack stop.

"Ben..." Erik began, looking rather serious. He hadn't even glanced at his food yet. "I don't mean to frighten you, but I feel like it's really important we get this out of the way.

A hospital visit might be in order. I mean, there's no telling what that thing did to you... what it might still be doing to you. I admire how... positive your attitude was about being turned into a huge green swamp monster and all, but I think it's way too early to be calling yourself a superhero. This isn't a comic book, this is real life, there could be consequences for using that thing. How did you even get it?"

Ahren said:

"Few other places can satisfy the cravings for grease-based substances, so it seems like we have a deal." Erik gave a half-smile, shaking the hand of the messy brown-haired girl.

Thankfully she then offered a much more sensible name than Swampfire.

Normally one might make a comment about how Ben wasn't a name often heard on a girl, but after her initial introduction it may as well have been as common as 'Jennifer'.

Click to expand...

Actually, Ben was a little bit relieved that Erik didn't go that route. Yeah, she was tomboyish, yeah, she was bisexual, but she was still very much a cisgender girl, and having her gender called into question every so often over something as simple as her name...

She liked this guy, she decided immediately.

(There was not, to Ben's knowledge, a Jennifer Tennyson in Ben's extensive and complicated family tree. Kevin, Gwendolyn's boyfriend, had once wondered if Ben's parents had been named "Sven" and "Jen," given the apparent Tennyson tendency to give their kids rhyming names.)

Ahren said:

Erik nodded, and then shrugged nonchalantly as she inquired about a car.

"I do, in fact. Just promise me not to drool too much upon seeing the majestic 2003 Honda Civic with a busted front door and covered in scratches that I have yet to figure out how the previous owner even acquired them..." He joked as he led her back to where he had parked.

Click to expand...

Ben chortled. "Hey, I don't care how bad it is, my cousin Ken had this beater he called The Awesomemobile, his sister and I thought it was the coolest thing going when we were growing up but in retrospect I have no idea how he kept the thing street legal--"

She hesitated when she actually saw it, though.

What were those scratches? She half expected The Omnitrix to start pinging again, as though they were carved by the talons of some other unidentified extraterrestrial creepy-crawly, but no, this time the watch stayed mum.

"I dub thee," she decided, once they got the bike into the back, and bless Erik for not losing his patience with an always-grueling process, "The Awesomemobile II."

Ahren said:

There wasn't much talk on the drive to Burger Shack as Erik answered a call from his sister (via the speaker, of course. He was not one of those assholes who holds the phone while driving). It was a fairly mundane call where she pretended to be checking to see if he was alright in order to then inform him at a warp-speed rare about the discovery of a pregnant dinosaur and how this could mean the potential for a real Jurassic Park and how soon should they preorder tickets?

Click to expand...

There was an odd thought.

Ben sat hunched up on the seat with her feet on the dash-- she was nimble and flexible, she had been her whole life, she didn't give much thought about cramming herself into poses that would subluxate the average lumbar. And she was playing with the watch, because of course she was, fidgety, easily distracted, regardless of the terrible idea that might be.

And as she messed with it, she looked again at the green glowing ring that came up when the watch's face lit up like that. She re-examined the emblems, tiny faces, on that holographic rim, found that one that reminded her of Swampfire. But there were other faces-- unintelligible, she had no idea what they represented. But there were ten faces in total, nine besides Swampfire. If she turned the dial right, would she get one of ten different... aliens?

And if The Omnitrix could scan and capture DNA as it had blathered about, could she scan a fossilized dinosaur embryo and pick up its genetic code?

That would be wild. Running around as some... humongous dinosaur?

(We'll laugh about this later.)

Ahren said:

Needless to say he declined, as the track record for that sort of thing wasn't too good. The look on Erik's face during this time showed that this was an entirely too common occurrence, but he humored his sibling nonetheless.

Click to expand...

Ben saw his look and waved it off, casual as anything, ain't no thing but a chicken wing, and she kept fiddling with the watch like she'd found a new app on her phone. Arguably, this was way more fascinating than Angry Birds or Words With Friends.

Also, Erik's sister seemed pretty cool. She was passionate and she knew what she was about. And despite her family's accusing her of being unfocused and directionless, Ben knew what she was about, too-- it just wasn't anything that anyone thought was any way for a grown-up to behave.

Ahren said:

Eventually the two new acquaintances arrived at their destination. Their food ordered and table chosen, Erik sat from across Ben and pondered.

Click to expand...

As distractable as Ben was, she was also kind of insightful, and it didn't take her quite as long to notice that he was staring pensively. And she paused, a chili-fry halfway to her mouth, eyebrow slightly quirked, and waited for him to tick over.

Ahren said:

"Ben..." Erik began, looking rather serious. He hadn't even glanced at his food yet.

Click to expand...

Ben sighed inwardly. Here it comes.

Fleetingly, it occurred to Ben that it was ironic that Ben had compared herself on the ride over to Erik's sister. Because right now, Erik was starting to sound exactly like cautious, thoughtful Gwendolyn.

Not just the glasses, then. From Badass Bookworm to Freak and Geek.

Ahren said:

"I don't mean to frighten you, but I feel like it's really important we get this out of the way.

A hospital visit might be in order. I mean, there's no telling what that thing did to you... what it might still be doing to you. I admire how... positive your attitude was about being turned into a huge green swamp monster and all, but I think it's way too early to be calling yourself a superhero. This isn't a comic book, this is real life, there could be consequences for using that thing. How did you even get it?"

Click to expand...

"I found it in the woods," she admitted, glancing down at the thing on her wrist, hesitant for a moment. "I think it fell from the sky. Like, a long time ago."

But then her brow furrowed and she scowled at him. "But look at this thing, dude. Do you think a hospital is going to know how to make head or tail of it? They'll call the government, and then we'll be swarming with, I dunno, Men in Black. They're just going to want to cut it off of me, and best as I can tell, they would actually need to cut my hand off. Heck, maybe they'll cut my hand off anyway-- they might want to dissect me."

She made a face, dropped her chili-fry with a splat in the meat and the cheese and the so-bad-it's-good grease.

"I don't know if you've read a comic book... ever... but there's consequences in those too. There's always a cost. But I'm willing to pay it. For a life less ordinary, for the chance to help people..."

Ben sighed heavily, reeled back on the picnic table bench, facepalmed hard as she glared up at the sky.

"Maybe I've already been pumped through with gamma rays, those always look green in the comics. If that's true I'm dead already, so that's great."

Then she slumped back down, petulant, arms across her stomach, openly glowering and pouting.

"Okay. So. I don't. Actually want to die. But I really don't think this thing is killing me, okay? It didn't even hurt, going Swampfire. It was... weird... but it didn't hurt. Not like whatever episode you were having when you came as-you-wishing down the dunes, there."

Erik sat back in his seat and just silently contemplated everything Ben said. This was a lot to take in, and she made a few good points. Still, he couldn't help be worried. It was true that he didn't know her, but he could tell her heart was in the right place, and it just seemed like a shame not to try and help her somehow.

A life less ordinary was great and all but a chance to help people? Erik knew what it was like to feel helpless. As far as he was concerned nothing felt worse. His eyes lowered as he stared blankly into his tray of food. How could he blame Ben at all for so openly accepting this newfound power?

When she mentioned his 'episode' Erik's eyes shot back up. He had nearly forgotten he just about collapsed in front of her with another one of those terrible headaches. There had to be some sort of connection between that device or whatever it was doing to Ben and his recent string of visions.

"This isn't a comic book, Ben..." Erik finally replied, running a hand idly through his hair with a sigh. He decided to ignore her last comment for now and re-direct the focus back to her. "But I can't stop you. I won't stop you. This is your choice, obviously. I was just concerned, all right? We need to be careful about this. Just promise me that if you start to feel too strange we at least get you a checkup..."

Erik didn't even realize he was saying 'we' until after the words came from his mouth. What was he getting himself into? All he knew is that there's no way he could just walk away from Ben now. Not after what he had seen. "I mean, if you are indeed a superhero, you need that confidant that knows your identity right? I suppose that's going to be me. Letting you do this alone just doesn't sit well with me.

Granted, I don't know in what capacity I can help you, but at the very least we can talk about what the next step is..."

Erik tilted his head down a bit, gazing at Ben above his glasses as he took another sip of his soda. "What is the next step? You seem to be the super hero expert between the two of us. Being able to shoot white-hot fire is very fancy and all, but it seems like it has limited applications in actually helping people..."

It always took a few moments for the words he was saying to actually hit him. He just went out to shoot some desert. Now he's discussing with a girl he just met the prospect of doing heroic deeds with actual honest to god superpowers. Erik wasn't sure such a concept would ever fully register. Nonetheless, he had to admit it was rather exciting. Frankly he had to admire Ben's relative calmness about the whole thing. Maybe that device chose her for a reason...

"Do you think you can do anything else...?"

Ahren said:

When she mentioned his 'episode' Erik's eyes shot back up.

Click to expand...

Ben smirked smugly. Ah-hah, hit a nerve!

Ahren said:

"This isn't a comic book, Ben..." Erik finally replied, running a hand idly through his hair with a sigh. He decided to ignore her last comment for now and re-direct the focus back to her.

Click to expand...

Ben's smirk faded and her expression became more uh-huh, so that's how it is.

Ahren said:

"But I can't stop you. I won't stop you. This is your choice, obviously. I was just concerned, all right? We need to be careful about this. Just promise me that if you start to feel too strange we at least get you a checkup..."

Click to expand...

Ben waved dismissively, retrieved her chili fry from the glop and nommed it. "Yeah, yeah. We'll call Dr. Hamilton at S.T.A.R.Labs or something. Who would we even call about the side effects of an alien iWatch? Do you know any alien experts, because I sure don't."

(Again, we'll laugh about this later.)

Ahren said:

"I mean, if you are indeed a superhero, you need that confidant that knows your identity right? I suppose that's going to be me. Letting you do this alone just doesn't sit well with me.

Granted, I don't know in what capacity I can help you, but at the very least we can talk about what the next step is..."

Click to expand...

It gradually dawned on Ben, then, too, that he was saying "we," thinking of them as a team, and she slowly, warmly, lopsidedly smiled at that. "Strap in, Commissioner Gordon. We're in for a bumpy night."

Ahren said:

Erik tilted his head down a bit, gazing at Ben above his glasses as he took another sip of his soda. "What is the next step? You seem to be the super hero expert between the two of us. Being able to shoot white-hot fire is very fancy and all, but it seems like it has limited applications in actually helping people..."

Click to expand...

"Dude, fire is awesome, it's a fan-favorite! I think Swampfire could do more than that, though," Ben mused. "Like, I was inside that alien's brain, and the brain knew about itself even though the mind was still mine, it's weird. And I felt like really, really strong. Like bench a tanker-truck strong. And I could hear the cacti in my head, like I could talk to plants? Who knows, maybe there were even other powers I didn't know about, like a healing factor or elongation or something. And... and I think Swampfire might just be, you know, pun intended, a warm-up."

Ben wasn't as calm as she looked. Inside she was screaming and punching the sky and running around because this was something she had been hoping and training for all her blessed go-nowhere life. She had been given the gift that all geeks hope for when they wait for their x-gene to kick in at puberty or for a Terminator bodyguard to tell them to come with them if they want to live...

...but something about how Ben was wired was this deep-seated fearlessness. Not that she would never flinch or panic, but over a longer game she had this inherent ability to roll with punches people couldn't even imagine.

Not that she knew this about herself; it wasn't something about herself that had ever really been tested up to now.

But now she was becoming who she had been born to be.

Ahren said:

"Do you think you can do anything else...?"

Click to expand...

Without even blinking or missing a beat, Ben jumped up on the bench, bounded across the picnic table, and sat down beside Erik on his side, somehow managing to not spill either of their food in the process.

"See, I saw this while we were driving over in The Awesomemobile II."

She toggled the watch and the glowing holographic ring lit up just above and around the watch-face.

"There's ten faces. Those tiny icons. I know, they're kinda squinty, but look, that one looks like Swampfire, I swear that's the one I touched when I turned into her. (At least, I think Swampfire was a her, not that aliens or plants necessarily follow a gender binary...) But-- you see what I'm saying? If I touch a different face-icon. Do I become someone else? Something else? With completely different powers?"

ChasNicollette said:

"Dude, fire is awesome, it's a fan-favorite! I think Swampfire could do more than that, though," Ben mused. "Like, I was inside that alien's brain, and the brain knew about itself even though the mind was still mine, it's weird. And I felt like really, really strong. Like bench a tanker-truck strong. And I could hear the cacti in my head, like I could talk to plants? Who knows, maybe there were even other powers I didn't know about, like a healing factor or elongation or something. And... and I think Swampfire might just be, you know, pun intended, a warm-up."

Click to expand...

Erik groaned softly at the pun. So this was the sort of person he was getting involved with? Ben definitely shared some traits with his sister. His attention was quickly taken back to the topic at hand when Ben mentioned alien brain. It concerned him a bit, but more than that he couldn't help but wonder if there was anything similar going on with him. The visions he had seen felt more like memories than dreams, but they certainly weren't his memories. At least, he didn't think so...

The other powers Ben listed did seem like they could be useful. Super strength was always versatile. Talking to plants though? What sort of conversation could one have with a plant? They may be living things but they didn't exactly have thoughts. Then again he was no botanist. When he had inquired if she thought she could do anything else he certainly meant as Swampfire, but all of the sudden Ben launched herself over the table and sat beside him. Clearly this girl wasn't all that familiar with the concept of personal space, but he made no attempts to move away. She was cute, after all...

ChasNicollette said:

"See, I saw this while we were driving over in The Awesomemobile II."

She toggled the watch and the glowing holographic ring lit up just above and around the watch-face.

"There's ten faces. Those tiny icons. I know, they're kinda squinty, but look, that one looks like Swampfire, I swear that's the one I touched when I turned into her. (At least, I think Swampfire was a her, not that aliens or plants necessarily follow a gender binary...) But-- you see what I'm saying? If I touch a different face-icon. Do I become someone else? Something else? With completely different powers?"

Click to expand...

"Huh..." Erik responded, mulling over that possibility. "Multiple forms. Each with presumably different abilities. That's a pretty interesting theory. Maybe we should test it out..."

Erik stared at the watch intently for a moment until another vision flashed through his mind. A dark sphere suspended in space. A planet, perhaps? Strange alien noises chattered as if he could hear the creatures living upon it. Quickly he shook his head, trying not to have an episode with Ben right beside him. Still, if they were going to work together he was going to have to let her know about the possible effects her watch was having on him.

"Ben, I've been having some strange visions, and I think they coincide with the time you found that device... Horrific creatures, dark planets. What do you think it means? Why me? I didn't find the thing..."

Gently he grasped her hand to help guide her arm with the watch away from him just in case something strange happened again. "I first saw them while I was in the hallway of my college. And now that I piece things together, you do look a bit familiar... Do you go to Bellwood?"

Ahren said:

"Huh..." Erik responded, mulling over that possibility. "Multiple forms. Each with presumably different abilities. That's a pretty interesting theory. Maybe we should test it out..."

Click to expand...

Ben grinned.

Erik was seriously not uncute, she'd noticed that from the get-go. She definitely preferred the studious type to the broad-shouldered fellas that Gwendolyn apparently went out for.

But looking at Erik with his gaze fixed on The Watch, seeing how studious he really was, cozied up to him on the Burger Shack bench, it definitely drove home quite how not uncute he was.

"And you with a video camera. Have you ever watched Heroes?"

She grinned softly. "'I'm Ben Tennyson, and this is attempt number two.'"

Ahren said:

Erik stared at the watch intently for a moment until another vision flashed through his mind.

Click to expand...

...but then things went a little sideways.

Ahren said:

"Ben, I've been having some strange visions, and I think they coincide with the time you found that device... Horrific creatures, dark planets. What do you think it means? Why me? I didn't find the thing..."

Click to expand...

Ben stared at him, bewilderment and concern sprawling across her face. "How the heck should I know why you were seeing all those... negative... spaces? Were you reading H.P. Lovecraft and eating a taco-heavy combo platter before bed?"

Ahren said:

Gently he grasped her hand to help guide her arm with the watch away from him just in case something strange happened again. "I first saw them while I was in the hallway of my college. And now that I piece things together, you do look a bit familiar... Do you go to Bellwood?"

Click to expand...

Initially Ben bristled at being touched without permission, but... he didn't mean any harm... and she was actually impressed by how gentle he was. Quickly she pulled her sleeve down over The Omnitrix, as though that might help insulate him from it.

"Yeah, I go to Bellwood Community College? I just thought I'd seen you at Baumann's Store or fueling your Honda up at a Gas'n'Go or something. Bellwood's got kind of a small-town atmosphere for such a bustling mini-metropolis..."

She hesitated. "...when... when you fell down the dune earlier. You were having one of those visions? And my watch started freaking out when it saw you. And you had one... in the hallway... at school?"

Ben swiveled on the picnic bench to straddle it and face Erik more fully, her green green eyes cartoonishly wide, and she smacked him lightly across the arm.

"You were why The Omnitrix started bleating at me while I was in Professor Lieber's class! You got me in trouble, you dweeb, that's my favorite subject!"

But-- as immature as Ben could be at times, she did have a good heart, and wasn't completely oblivious to people. She quieted after a moment, took a breath, and glanced down at the sleeve that hid the cosmic wristwatch, her other hand in her mop of brown hair.

"...my... Omnitrix is giving you weird nightmare-seizures and I'm treating it like a toy. Oh, man. I was so psyched about being able to use this thing without icky side effects but I never thought that the side effects might not happen... to me."

Her shoulders slumped, and she bopped herself in the forehead with the heel of one hand. "Crap, Erik, I'm so sorry. Stupid, thoughtless--!"

ChasNicollette said:

"How the heck should I know why you were seeing all those... negative... spaces? Were you reading H.P. Lovecraft and eating a taco-heavy combo platter before bed?"

Click to expand...

Ben's snarky response certainly proved just how silly of a question Erik had asked. Indeed, how would she know? She barely even knew how the device worked. Then again, it had been more of a hypothetical question to begin with. Thinking out loud. Hoping just saying the words to someone else helped him make sense of everything even just a little bit.

It didn't work. If anything he was more confused. Determining the likely source of his visions hadn't really done much other than brought up more questions.

ChasNicollette said:

"Yeah, I go to Bellwood Community College? I just thought I'd seen you at Baumann's Store or fueling your Honda up at a Gas'n'Go or something. Bellwood's got kind of a small-town atmosphere for such a bustling mini-metropolis..."

She hesitated. "...when... when you fell down the dune earlier. You were having one of those visions? And my watch started freaking out when it saw you. And you had one... in the hallway... at school?"

Ben swiveled on the picnic bench to straddle it and face Erik more fully, her green green eyes cartoonishly wide, and she smacked him lightly across the arm.

"You were why The Omnitrix started bleating at me while I was in Professor Lieber's class! You got me in trouble, you dweeb, that's my favorite subject!"

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"Ow!" Erik mockingly flinched. It didn't actually hurt, of course, but he played along regardless. "Hey don't blame me, you're the one who strapped the alien device to her wrist in the first place! You're lucky a brief interruption of one class is all that happened! What if you were swampfire forever, eh? Something tells me you wouldn't be going back to that class at all!

Also did you just call me a 'dweeb'? Did that alien thing cause us to time travel back to 1985, too?" He smirked. His sister called him a lot of random things, but he was pretty sure not even she would have fished that one out.

ChasNicollette said:

"...my... Omnitrix is giving you weird nightmare-seizures and I'm treating it like a toy. Oh, man. I was so psyched about being able to use this thing without icky side effects but I never thought that the side effects might not happen... to me."

Her shoulders slumped, and she bopped herself in the forehead with the heel of one hand. "Crap, Erik, I'm so sorry. Stupid, thoughtless--!"

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The sudden change in attitude from Ben was actually quite depressing. He certainly didn't want to make it sound like her fault. "Hey hey.." He began, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry about that, okay? It's strange, to be sure, but I already got myself checked out and nothing is wrong with me. They're strange visions to be sure, but... fascinating to say the least. I could probably walk away right now and as long as we stay like 30 feet apart maybe it won't ever happen again.

But I don't want that. I want to figure out why this is happening, and as much as all this is beyond my comprehension and expertise, I'm... curious. To see more. Not just of the strange images but of what you can do.

If your hypothesis is correct and you can change into other forms, then... maybe you really can use it to help people. I just hate to think of you shouldering that burden entirely alone. Granted, I don't really know how I can help, but I guess just having someone else who knows can relieve some of the pressure. The real question is what do we do now..? Do you think there anyone else you think you're going to tell about this? Other friends? Family members?"

Ahren said:

"Ow!" Erik mockingly flinched. It didn't actually hurt, of course, but he played along regardless. "Hey don't blame me, you're the one who strapped the alien device to her wrist in the first place! You're lucky a brief interruption of one class is all that happened! What if you were swampfire forever, eh? Something tells me you wouldn't be going back to that class at all!"

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Ben's eyes widened for a split second but then she grinned madly and retorted: "Are you kidding? Walking into a class about comic books as an actual honest to God superhero? Ultimate Show-and-Tell. I would pass Lieber's class so hard they would degree me on the spot."

Ahren said:

"Also did you just call me a 'dweeb'? Did that alien thing cause us to time travel back to 1985, too?" He smirked.

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Ben sniffed archly. "I'll have you know, vintage insults are the best insults. They're like wine and cheese."

Gwendolyn and Ben hadn't spent a lot of time together when they were little girls-- if Ben had gone on that summer road trip ten years ago that would have been more time they'd spent in each others' presence in one summer then they'd spent their entire lives. But when they had hung out, they'd always had plenty to say to each other.

Geek.

Doofus.

Jerk.

Dweeb!

Ahren said:

The sudden change in attitude from Ben was actually quite depressing. He certainly didn't want to make it sound like her fault. "Hey hey.." He began, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry about that, okay? It's strange, to be sure, but I already got myself checked out and nothing is wrong with me. They're strange visions to be sure, but... fascinating to say the least. I could probably walk away right now and as long as we stay like 30 feet apart maybe it won't ever happen again.

But I don't want that. I want to figure out why this is happening, and as much as all this is beyond my comprehension and expertise, I'm... curious. To see more. Not just of the strange images but of what you can do.

If your hypothesis is correct and you can change into other forms, then... maybe you really can use it to help people. I just hate to think of you shouldering that burden entirely alone. Granted, I don't really know how I can help, but I guess just having someone else who knows can relieve some of the pressure. The real question is what do we do now..? Do you think there anyone else you think you're going to tell about this? Other friends? Family members?"

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Not that Ben would admit it, but Erik had... had both a good head on his shoulders and a good heart in his chest.

Just his hand on her shoulder and his soothing, wise words was enough to give her a hand up out of her spiral.

Ben cared about people-- not that she always remembered to show it --but she didn't cry often or for very long.

And despite the risk to himself and his sanity, Erik was basically permitting her to take this space-watch and use it to become the superhero she'd dreamed of being since she was a little kid.

...that thought of telling family was intriguing.

"I should probably tell my Grandpa at some point. And Gwendolyn, my cousin, she's a-- she's a stuck-up know-it-all, but she's been kind of supportive lately. And I bet if I showed Clyde it would blow his little corn-fed mind..."

She grinned a long, slow grin, an almost manic delight in her eyes... a wait 'till they get a load of me look on her face.

"'Till then. I think a little bit of beta testing is in order."

"I'm ready for my close-up."