[Fiction] A Titanium Pitch

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

“Park and Fiftieth, please,” Harold smiled to the cab driver as the door shut with a dull thud. He wasn’t late or unprepared but his whole body still buzzed with nervousness. In less than an hour, he was supposed to bring some nova he only knew through an OpNet chat room to meet Tor, Mr. Lathrope, and maybe even Mr. Flair… how did that happen?! He’s not some kind of recruiter or agent, he’s just another fighter and Meghan – that is her name, isn’t it? – didn’t sound like she liked the normal kind of thing they did at work. Would the bosses even go for something without fighting?

Soothing and supportive confidence filtered from the absent Carver down to Harold through their link. She sounded so sure that he was going to do great and that everything would be fine, even if he wasn’t that certain himself. Maybe she was right, it couldn’t be all bad. It’s not like he’d get fired or something – his contract was good for awhile – and the worst thing that would happen is they’d want Meghan to fight and she said no. And Mr. Flair wouldn’t stand up and start shouting “wooooo” at her… right?

Uh oh, the cab stopped. The cabbie smiled at the tip Harold gave him – no reason to be stingy – and the young nova stepped out onto the sidewalk. Despite his status as an established XWF combatant, his rather mundane appearance still helped him keep a modicum of anonymity in public – even in New York – and keeping his Eufiber formed as a pair of jeans and a black ringer t-shirt certainly helped too. Sometimes people took a double take at him – like that couple across the street just now – but he wasn’t ready yet to have people notice him everywhere. Just when he and Carver were out on the town and not trying to find a hidden corner to–

The throng of pedestrians at the corner of the last intersection of his path knocked the fantasy out of Harold’s mind. He’s tough but getting hit by a car still hurts. And it really wouldn’t be nice to ruin someone’s truck or something. The stoplights flipped and he joined the crowd of people crossing the street and caught the building with the XWF’s office with his eyes. No shiny novas or screaming nova philes were in sight – looks like she’s not there yet. The only thing left to do was get to the front of the building and wait…

[Mithril]

Hand-in-hand, Meghan "Girl Made of Titanium" Cutter and Nova "Flicker" Madigan silently materialized in front of the XWF's Manhattan office. Nova was dressed casually as usual in blue jeans and her favorite CSU Volleyball hoodie. Meghan wore nothing at all, again as usual. She appeared to be a petite teenaged girl made completely of smooth and featureless titanium metal.

As an after-effect of being attuned for the teleportation, the two novas continued flickering in and out of complete transparency in a random pattern, but in perfect synchronization with each other. As usual, passers-by stopped in their tracks, startled by their sudden appearance. Meghan glanced at her hands, struck as always by how unnerving Nova's aberration was.

How does she put up with this all the time? Meghan wondered, as she always did after teleporting with Nova.

The New Yorkers in their immediate vicinity continued to stare at the two of them, and it seemed as if their collective gestalt was on the edge of making a decision. Meghan glanced into Nova's eyes, and Nova returned her gaze.

"Wait for it," Nova said.

Meghan smiled.

At least twenty surly New Yorkers, easily some of the most jaded city dwellers in the world, crowded around the two novas and began speaking at them rapid-fire, barraging them with questions and requests for autographs.

Meghan smiled broadly at Nova and laughed.

"I win the bet!" Meghan giggled. Before leaving Rio de Janeiro, they'd argued about whether typical New Yorkers would mob them or not. Nova had opined that New Yorkers were far too jaded to be impressed by novas anymore.

With the cheerful smiles and un-forced pleasantness of new celebrity, Meghan and Nova signed autographs, posed for photographs, and answered shouted questions from the slowly growing mob.

I don't ever want to get tired of this, Nova realized, as she took the time to actually enjoy interacting with fans instead of treating them as an obstacle.

"Where's Mythic, anyway?" Meghan asked Nova, as she signed a skinny teenager's abdomen with a black Sharpie. "You're taller. Do you see him anywhere?"

Nova stood on tiptoes and tried to see over the heads of the small throng which still surrounded her and Meghan.

"I don't see anyone who looks like a nova," she replied.

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

Wait, why is everyone starting to mob in front of the building? He didn't see anyone fly down from... ohhh, that's why. Despite his modest height, Harold caught sight of a flickering woman and the shiny gleam of titanium at the core of the slowly clamoring crowd. That's right, she lives with a teleporter, it only made sense she'd get here that way instead of just flying. And, wow, they both seem really comfortable dealing with all those people.

With a few polite words, Harold attempted to reach the two novas in the center of the gathering flock of people. Although his rather drab appearance meant that Flicker and Meghan remained the focus of the crowd. It also meant that not only would the gawkers block his path more and more the closer he got, but that the two novas probably wouldn't recognize him. And to think, he was the one who worked here.

Right, it might be a good idea to get their attention, it's not like he's a total unknown. "Uh, Meghan," Harold called out, trying to raise his voice over the shouted questions, "Megha... hey, uh, Meghan..." Great, there was no way they could hear or see him with all these people. Maybe looking normal all of the time wasn't one hundred percent good.

Well, there's one way to get their attention quickly. Pale skin hardened and took on a uniform and metallic quality in response to a surge of quantum energy, resulting in a titanium Mythic. And sure enough, the sudden appearance of another nova startled enough of the crowd to open a clear path from the young nova to walk up to Flicker and Meghan. No wonder she learned how to change her weight, how could anyone walk around with this much weight all day long?

"Uh, hi, I'm Harold," Mythic said sheepishly with an informal wave, "Er, well, I'm Mythic too, but you know what I mean." Despite his obvious shyness and nervousness, the young nova didn't falter when the mob began to include him in their deluge of questions and requests. In fact, he seemed to flourish under the assault of fans.

"Oh, I didn't mean to steal your thing or anything," Mythic smiled apologetically to Meghan between answering random questions from the crowd, "I just thought turning into metal be the fastest way to get your attention... and, um, a little more subtle than turning into a monster or something."

[Mithril]

Nova leaned downward and hugged Meghan warmly and followed the hug with a kiss on her cheek.

"Call me when you're ready to come home," Nova told Meghan, and then disappeared from the spot. Still smiling warmly, Meghan turned toward Harold and greeted him.

"Hello Harold," she said politely, offering her hand. "Ttitanium looks good on you," she cheerfully lied, widening her eyes slightly in surprise. "It definitely got my attention, at the very least. What do you say we ditch this teenage fan club and head inside? It's bound to be quieter in there, at least, I hope it is."

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

"Sure," Mythic nodded while scribbling a quick autograph - how does she hold on to pens with such smooth fingers? - "And it's normally pretty bland inside too." Titanium faded back to pale skin and Harold gave a few polite "Thank yous" and "Excuse us" to the surrounding baselines while leading Meghan into the office building. The people really weren't a problem - it was kinda fun to be around fans - but he did make an appointment with Tor and Mr. Lathrope.

Unlike the street outside, the building's lobby was quiet and nearly devoid of activity, populated by a single guard behind a thick desk. "Hi, Jack," Harold smiled at the guard, his voice and the two nova's footsteps echoing softly together off of the smooth granite floors and walls of room, "We're just going upstairs." Everyone inside of here would recognize him... and they were nice too.

"No problem, Mr. Anderson," the guard grin eagerly before standing up behind the desk - it was always Mr. Anderson with Jack, never Harold or even Mythic. Middle-aged man pushed back his gray cap as the novas walked past, "So you're bringing in a new nova to the Federation or just a friend?"

Harold was ignoring the large directory mounted on the wall on their way to the elevator - it's not like the office changed or something - but he didn't ignore Jack's question, "Oh it's just a meeting for Meghan... uh..." He looked over to the metal nova with a slight blush, "I'm sorry, I don't remember your last name." Oh yeah, the meeting was going to go just fine...

[Mithril]

Meghan stopped before the bank of elevators and then turned to Harold and smiled.

"Cutter," she said, "Meghan Cutter. My nova handle's 'Girl Made of Titanium,' but most people shorten that down to GMoT." She pronounced the acronym Gee-mot.

"I don't know if you've come up with any ideas since we discussed this last," she continued, "so here's a quick rundown of what I can do. I can turn into almost any shape, and I can use the abilities of whatever I turn into. Also, I can make sharp spikes and claws. Lastly, I'm hella hard to damage, but I'll bet the company has ways to measure that."

"Oh, and if you'll hold very still, I can show you a trick I'm especially proud of. Do you trust me?"

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

Oh God, how could anyone forget a simple name like that? Don't worry about it, there's still more to come. Harold punched the up button on the elevator and shared Meghan's smile, "That's a good start of things to do and there are a lot of people here that can help you learn more if you want. The doctors at the Rashoud Facility walked me through some cool stuff, but most of the practical stuff I learned here." But the best stuff was learned in the bedroom...

*And the kitchen, the living room, the park, the roof, the shower, the bathroom, the basement, the wall, and the floor,* Carver's voice perked up in his mind and he could feel Jael's sensual smirk and Willa's blush through their link, *You got a meeting, honey; you better keep your mind on that.*

*That list isn't helping, sweetie,* Harold shot back just as the elevator slid open and the two novas walked inside - there's more than enough time later to try out some new ideas at home. But it sounds like she has some trick, every shifter seems to have one. "But, ummm, sure," he shrugged at Meghan after hitting the button for the correct floor, "Show me what you've got."

With a grin, Meghan stepped toward Harold in the small space of elevator. What the heck is she... Before the teenager reached him, her body split apart without warning and began to flow around his like a sentient liquid. Before he could fully react, the shifting titanium solidified into a breastplate, pauldrons, and greaves over his Eufiber. And, strangely, her voice sounded as normal as ever despite her lack of a mouth, "So, whatcha think?"

*Cute,* Carver's unamused voice rung through his head before he could say anything, *Real cute.*

Amusement and reassurance filtered back to Carver from Harold, *She's showing off, baby, that's all. It's not like she's hitting on me or something.* "Whoa, that is freaking cool," Harold said with genuine admiration, "I never tried something like that before... I don't think anyone would ever expect this in the combat zone." An electronic bell was followed by the elevator sliding open, revealing a well-kept sitting room leading to the suite of offices. A thought brought a grin to his face, "Hey, Meghan, don't change or anything yet, okay? I've got an idea."

God, she's got some weight to her... and why did that make Carver happier just now? Harold stepped off the elevator, still wearing the shifted Meghan, and bee-lined to a set of double doors. Thank God the conference room is close to the elevator. On the other side of the door were two men sitting at a large wooden table with an impressive view of Midtown Manhattan behind them.

The blonde man dressed in casual slacks and a loose shirt, Tor, smiled when Harold and Meghan walked into the room. That's not a surprise, Tor could see a nova a mile away. But the man in the power suit and mock turtleneck, Mr. Lathrope, was a baseline and didn't have Tor's advantages, "It's great to see you, Mythic, but isn't that outfit something for the ring? And where's this Titanium Girl?"

[Mithril]

"I'm right here!" Meghan said cheerfully. Her voice, unaffected by her unusual shape, could be plainly heard to come from a nonspecific point near the upper part of her body. Mr. Lathrope arched his eyebrows in surprise, but long exposure to the antics of novas had rendered him seemingly immune to surprise. Tor's smile, a thin line that showed no teeth, grew slightly wider, and he sniffed in amusement.

Meghan returned to her usual shape, flowing smoothly and quickly off of Harold's frame to stand by his side. She took a half step forward and bowed politely.

"I'm Meghan Cutter, the Girl Made of Titanium, how do you do?" she said with a measured blend of courtesy and cheerfulness. Her years spent as a diplomat's daughter served her well, although her name had been a lot shorter before she erupted.

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

Recovering his composure, Mr. Lathrope stood up from the table and approached Meghan to shake her hand with a confident, “Good to meet you, Meghan, I’m William Lathrope, one of the producers here; call me Bill.” He’s always been that friendly but it just seems so weird to call a professional by their first name. But why doesn’t he seem as polished as last time?

“This is Tor Fjellanger,” Mr. Lathrope nodded towards the silent but waving Tor, “He’s the XWF’s talent scout.” And he’s the quantum evaluator too, but the execs never tell anyone that the first time they meet him. Wow, that sounds so manipulative… The producer settled back into his chair and motioned towards the empty seats, “Sit, sit, B.B. isn’t here making you two give a presentation. So what can I do for you, Harold?”

Plastic wheels quietly squeaked as Harold pulled out the chair and sat down, “Well, uh, Bill, Meghan and I were talking a few days ago about some of the same things we can do and I think she could make a big pop with some of her tricks.” Okay, that wasn’t so hard… just keep talking without screwing up. If that’s even possible. The leather chair squeaked again as he shifted in it, “I mean, she’s got a lot of natural charm that even other novas seem to pick up on and that armor thing she did isn’t even something I’ve done in the combat zone.”

Did it work…? Mr. Lathrope was silent through Harold’s rapid speech and by the end he had leaned back and steepled his fingers – God, he looks like some kind of clichéd movie villain – “That sounds like a place to start, Harold, but it’s a little broad.” Oddly, his chair didn’t make a sound when he swiveled to look at the teenaged nova, “So what can you do aside becoming armor, Meghan?”

[Mithril]

Meghan took a seat and leaned forward, using her body language to express interest and earnestness.

"I can assume any shape, actually, and I can take on the abilities of that new shape," Meghan explained. "When I am falcon-shaped I can fly, and have sharp talons and keen eyesight, for example."

"Also, I'm incredibly hard to injure, and even when I am injured, it doesn't hurt. For fun Wakinyan-- you've heard of him, I'm sure-- and I spent a lazy afternoon carving chunks out of my body. Because I can regenerate the damage, it makes no difference to me."

"I don't know if it's useful in the arena, but I never require food, water, sleep, air, or anything else. I seem to be powered entirely by ambient quantum energy."

Meghan leaned forward to make a point: "All those abilities aside, what I really bring is enthusiasm and the willingness to try new things. The XWF has marketing genuises on hand. Surely they can find a niche for me?"

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

It didn’t hurt for someone to carve chunks out of her body?! Wow, now that is strange. Harold remains silent as Mr. Lathrope keeps his reclined position, “We certainly do and we always welcome novas interested in the Federation - especially novas with your enthusiasm.” Hunh, this is what it must be like to be recruited by someone who isn’t out make a completely one-sided deal.

Before the conversation continued, Tor leaned over to speak quietly to Mr. Lathrope, creating an informal break of sorts. He must be reporting everything he saw in Meghan; there are paraphysicians at Rashoud Facilities that don’t catch some of the things he can find. Harold turned to Meghan and gave her a silent shrug as the soft conference on the other side of the table carried on without them. This wasn’t a bad thing, right?

The plastic sound of the executive chairs readjusting ended the impromptu sidebar and Mr. Lathrope smiled again at Meghan, “Tor has assured me you’d be capable of surviving a normal match in all three of the circles.” Whoa, that’s definitely good. “There is the matter of if you can give as good as you can take,” the baseline explained with open hands, “But with the willingness to try new likes, like you said, it wouldn’t be hard for you to compete in at least the Silver or Red Circles.” A confident grin took his face – some people might think it looks predatory but everyone just pales next to Jael grinning like that – and he tipped his head once towards the side door to the room, “How about we hit one of the training rooms and let you stretch out. Then we can settle more concretely on combative or non-combative things for you to do with the XWF as well as a more official relationship.”

[Mithril]

Ever mindful of courtesy, Meghan waited a beat for Tor and Mr. Lathrope to rise from their own chairs. Tor noticed, and smiled with amusement.

"After you," Mr. Lathrope said with a gesture toward the side door, making an elaborate display of genteel manners.

He's really laying it on thick, Meghan noticed, suddenly understanding that Bill was here to sell the XWF to her just as much as she was here to sell herself to the XWF. Tor had quickly risen next, and held the door open for Meghan, then followed behind her. Harold and Mr. Lathrope could get the door for themselves, he decided.

The side corridor lead to a number of closed doors similar to this one, and the building's back elevator. Meghan guessed correctly that they were taking the elevator, and lead the way there. Mr. Lathrope tapped the DOWN button.

"We'll use the training room on the fifth floor," he explained as the elevator doors opened, "we should have it to ourselves this afternoon."

"Okay," Meghan replied, relieved that she'd not be auditioning for an audience of hardened XWF warriors. "What you said about competing in any circle? I don't know about that. I can definitely take it, but the dishing out may be a little. . ." she trailed off uncertainly.

"Don't worry about that," Bill said, "just show us what you've got and we'll sort it out for you."

Meghan pushed her doubts to the back of her mind as the elevator opened into the lobby of the fifth floor training room. The entire floor was occupied with a variety of exercise machines and weights, as well as a number of gymnastic apparatus, a matrial-arts style padded mat, and an elevated ring. A mirror on the far wall caught Meghan's eye, and she saw herself step into the room in the company of an XWF warrior, talent scout, and producer.

Where to begin? she wondered.

"I'll just warm up a little, I guess," she said, pretending to have some idea of what she was doing.

"Take your time," Bill said generously, taking a seat on a tall stool which allowed him to survey the entire room. Tor crossed his arms and leaned on the adjacent wall.

Meghan strolled onto the padded martial-arts mat and felt its padded surface crush under her considerable weight. Titanium is a lighweight metal, but it is nevertheless metal, and much heavier than flesh. As she walked to the center, she reduced her body's weight to that of an ordinary human and the mat responded, becoming more firm under her feet.

Without prelude, Meghan focused on a point on the far wall and stood in an acrobat's ready pose, her arms loose and her knees flexed. She dipped once, then sprang into the air, revolving through one complete backflip and then landing on her feet again.

Piece of cake, she thought.

Without adjusting her stance, she sprang again, forward this time, landing adroitly on her toes again. Instead of stopping, she began springing nonstop into another backflip, one more forward flip, and then one last backflip.

Meghan had intended to flip a few more times, but nearly lost her balance on the last landing, and stopped. Thinking quickly, she arched her arms toward the ceiling, as if she'd planned to stop there. She couldn't tell if it worked, but the glance which Mr Lathrope and Tor exchanged definitely seemed amused to her.

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

Wow, this was going well! She might not be an experienced warrior or anything but she looks like she’s got some kind of abilities and Mr. Lathrope still looks interested. The acrobatics were pretty cool too – the Silver Circle has a bunch of that kind of stuff – but she’s got to be able to more than that. She hadn’t changed yet but there was still plenty of time for that. But was she able to change to the degree that he could change?

“Not a bad start,” Mr. Lathrope said with some approval in his voice, “Some athletic ability is a definite plus. Although there are some other things we’d like to see.” No kidding, try entering the Federation after doing horrible in every gym class since middle school. Hey, what’s with that slick grin on his face… The producer swiveled on his stool to face Harold with encouragement in his voice, “How about you give Meghan a hand? See how she’d handle herself in a shoot.” ‘Go be a pell’ is what he’s really saying.

Alright, alright, there’s nothing wrong with helping like this. “Sure,” Harold shrugged before walking out on the mat towards Meghan. Now this was a different situation – how does one shifter handle another shifter? She said it didn’t hurt to have parts cut off, how would submission holds work? Would wearing her out be the only thing to do? The mat still felt springy beneath his feet as he stopped a meter away from the metal nova, “I know you said you didn’t really know how to fight… how about you try changing yourself like you were talking about before and see how it works.”

Titanium rippled like water and a long, sharpened set of claws sprung from Meghan’s fingertips, joined by a similar collection of spikes appearing across her entire body. She’d mentioned this before but it was useful… It was a ‘live by the sword’ sort of maneuver, though – does she know that? “How’s this,” she grinned proudly, waving one set of slender claws towards him.

“Looks good,” Harold smiled back at Meghan and he took a wider stance while bringing up his hands, “For now, I’m just gonna try to get you onto the floor and you just keep trying to not get knocked down. If I get you down just get up and we’ll keep trying if we’re both feelin’ good, okay?” She nodded silently in return – okay, time to find out how messy it could get.

Starting slowly, Harold moved forward to reach out to the spiky nova – nothing fancy yet. Instinctively, Meghan took a step back and swiped at him with her claws, the sharpened metal sliding off of his surprisingly resilient skin and only leaving the faint trace of red on his forearms. Okay, that didn’t hurt too much…

However, Harold didn’t stop his approach and reached out to grip Meghan’s shoulder and waist. His hands tried to find their way past her spikes and were rewarded with a few nicks but he still got a grip on her metallic body. Ow, that’s a little worse…

With the grip in place, he lifted and pivoted at the same time and brought Meghan off the ground before slamming her back down onto the mat. Okay, those spikes definitely hurt. Harold stopped to take a look at his hands and arms, each of them peppered with tiny cuts that were seconds away from bleeding. Carver’s alarm was palatable in his mind but he kept his mind calm and reassuring, *It’s okay, honey, I’ve taken a lot worse.*

Jael's humor mixed with concern came back almost instantaneously, *I've done a lot worse to you in the bedroom...*

*Stop that, I’m supposed to be working,* Harold shot back while the small cuts disappeared and were replaced by pale skin. She could totally do more than this… Smiling, he held out a helping hand to Meghan, “Hey, if we go over to the reinforced mats you can go to your full weight; that’ll definitely help you out.”

[Mithril]

From the floor, Meghan looked around a bit uncertainly. She hadn't expected Harold to body-slam her just yet. It hadn't hurt; nothing ever hurt her, but she was surprised nonetheless. Harold still stood over her, his hand extended to help her up.

"I'm stuck in the floor," she said quietly and matter-of-factly, "and I think my spikes have torn up the mat pretty badly." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bill and Tor carefully watching them. Her reaction to this situation would be very important, she decided.

"Why did you slam me to the floor over here if the reinforced mat is over there?" Meghan asked Harold in a whisper. She accepted his extended hand, being careful not to slash him with the foot-long metal claws which still projected from her fingertips.

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

Careful, don’t get cut, dang she’s sharp… “Habit, I guess,” Harold whispered back to Meghan while trying to hide the sheepish look on his face, “I’m used to really tearing up the arena.” Once the titanium girl was on her feet, he stole a quick glance at the floor. Oooo, yep, that’ll take some repairs. “I’m just gonna take her over to the reinforced section,” he said to Mr. Lathrope with a jab of his thumb, “Let her go full out and everything.”

The producer just nodded and smiled, “That’s great, Harold, we want her to get a chance to fully stretch out.” Dang it, don’t get nervous, they love novas who’re ready to try new stuff.

Next to the mats was a clear and flat area of similar size, covered in a dark, rubbery surface with only a bit of give. Yeah, this area is much better. A thought popped into Harold’s mind and he looked at the teenager just as she was reaching the other side of the rubberized mat, “Hey, do you mind if I change into a fighting shape? Just to help keep myself a little protected an’ all.”

“A fighting shape? Okay." Meghan wondered what that entailed. With a nod and smile, muscle and sinew filled out broadening shoulders as hair lengthened and skin became almost luminescent.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Mythic smiled as he took a familiar wide stance, “Core and Superbeast use this mat sometimes and it can take a beating.” Of course, she probably wasn’t going to do a Core Meltdown or something.

Meghan nodded and hopped into a run towards him. What’s she… When she was less than ten feet away from Mythic, the metallic nova leapt high into above him. Her body rippled suddenly, limbs and head disappearing until all that remained was a large and polished anvil plunging towards him. Ooo, clever!

Even with a changed stance, Meghan’s sudden impact into Mythic’s readied arms sent him backwards and flat onto the floor with the metal anvil-girl in his arms. The blow had knocked the breath out of him but he was laughing after there was air in his lungs again, “Heh, not bad…”

Hands moved on the smooth anvil until Mythic had a better grip on Meghan, “But can you do a basketball?” With a grin, he flung the other nova into the air with quantum fueled strength before kip-upping to his feet with markedly improved grace. Maybe it’d be cooler to jump after her and get her in the air, but there isn’t enough room and this form couldn’t throw her that high anyways…

[Mithril]

With a dull thudding noise, Meghan slammed into the reinforced mat, one corner digging into the floor.

Have to try something different, she thought, can't let him get a hold of me again. Two times Harold had gotten his hands on her, and two times she'd been flung to the mat. Meghan's form changed again, and she rose from the floor, taking on a bipedal form again, but this time tall and skeleton-thin, and with four impossibly long and bony double-eged swords for arms. A raptorlike death's head skull leered from atop a spindly neck.

Standing erect on her impossibly long and spindly legs which would have snapped under their own weight if they had been made of flesh instead of metal, Meghan spun on her pointed toes like a ballet dancer. Waving her four sword arms as she twirled, she lunged at Harold with alien grace.

"Don't worry, they're not sharp!" she shrieked as she pounced.

[Harold 'Mythic' Anderson]

Oooo, that’s a freaky form and something to remember for the future. Maybe not so thin, though. Mythic backpedaled from Meghan’s sword-like arms, moving to put room between him and the spindly create of doom. Once, a blade slid across his perfectly tanned skin but it failed to find purchase. She didn’t get any stronger – why’d that happen?

Wait, why not take advantage of that?! Stopping suddenly, Mythic’s feet dug into the floor and he lunged forward towards the other, dipping his head and shoulder down in an attempt to get past the twirling swords. Still using her alien grace, Meghan moved aside from Mythic’s sudden rush and managed to avoid most of the demigod’s muscled body, only getting slightly clipped in the process.

Maybe something else would work faster… Sun kissed skin and beauty befitting a godling were exchanged for gray and hardened flesh and Mythic lunged back towards Meghan. However, instead of reaching out with his arms, Mythic stretched out his entire body into a broad and flat shape and wrapped himself around the spindly girl with his entire body. Now why hasn’t this been tried in the arena yet?

“Alright, guys,” Mr. Lathrope called from his seat just as Megahn began to struggle under Mythic’s body, “I think we’ve got a good idea of the situation.” The gray and hardened body unwrapped from the metal girl and imploded, leaving behind the seemingly average Harold standing in front of Meghan. The producer left Tor by the wall and crossed the reinforced mat to reach the novas, “So, Harold, whatcha think?”

Harold rubbed the back of his neck to hide a discrete stretch, “She’s definitely got control of her body, but, uh, I don’t think she’s really been in a fight before.” He looked over at Meghan and shrugged sheepishly, “Not that it’s bad or something, I kinda knew even less about it when I started.”

Nodding at Harold’s words, Mr. Lathrope turned his focus over to the teenager, “We think you’ve got a lot of potential, Meghan, and that you working with the XWF is a great opportunity for both of us.” He held out a hand to her with a smile, “What do you say to coming on board with us? We’ll give you all of the training and publicity you could ever need.”

[Mithril]

Is this for real? Meghan boggled. While her public face was one of supreme confidence, she'd harbored doubts about her chances with the XWF. Could she possibly stand shoulder-to-shoulder with international fighting stars like that? She'd fantasized about this moment for months, wearing out game controllers while playing XWF Extreme Brawl Zone Turbo Championship Edition 2016. Now the moment was here, and her next move was obvious.

"You bet I will!" she almost shouted, an enormous grin flashing across her raptor skull's death head. She held out a spindly sword-arm and accepted Mr. Lathrope's handshake.