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[Fiction] Dorothy Roberts - Kid Sister


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You know, kids at school think it’s really neat that I get to hang with the Windy City Knights. I think that they think I kinda have the junior membership or something like that. If only.

No, my place with the Knights is the perpetual kid sister who never gets to do anything.

I mean, look at that thing that happened down in Fourth Ward last week, when they made the drug bust. Sandcaster was barking orders at everyone, with, “Amped, do this; April, do that; I wish we had more muscle over here.” Hello! Muscle? I’ve got three meters of hulking, bug-eyed werewolf muscle for ya’, right here! I even tried to bring it up…and she just gave me that grim, school-teacher, don’t-make-me-send-you-to-the-principal look, and went on with the operation like I wasn’t even there.

Sandcaster…you know, as guardians go, she makes a great guard. I mean yeah, she makes sure I eat right and have clothes that fit and do my homework and get to school and stuff. But a mom, she ain’t. She just sort of crunches everything that might actually feel anything down, buries it under all that sand somewhere. I think it’s because of Stormwarden.

That’s another real fun one. Oh, she doesn’t have repression issues. She’s about as far away from repressed as you can get. And it drives Sandcaster crazy, because deep down, Sandcaster loves her. Yeah, the boss is a lesbian, even if she won’t admit it to anyone…not even herself. And Stormwarden just won’t give up…well, Rhayne won’t, anyway. Yeah, that’s the other funny thing with Stormwarden; she’s kinda got her dead sister Kayla along for the ride…and her sister is straight. Which makes things really interesting with that whole Stormwarden-Sandcaster dynamic, even if ol’ grit-britches wasn’t a stick in the mud. I like to hang out with Stormwarden…both of the Stormwardens, really, but I don’t think Sandcaster like it all that much.

But yeah, back to me…they really won’t treat me like a real nova. Wakinyan’s karaoke party was a good example. Dad had said that it was OK if I went if I had a chaperone…and well, TeleRhyde agreed to do the job. And he did it fine, too, and I don’t care if he is a Terat. But ol’ grit-britches had a fit when she found out, and like grounded me forever. She tried to arrest TeleRhyde for a bunch of really lame charges, too, but I stood up for him (which got him off the hook, but got me home detention). But it really shouldn't have been that big a deal; I mean, Cade was there and he knew I was OK.

Cade’s one of the new Knights. He came up from Louisiana, and has that slow drawl really thick whenever he’s talking. His turn-ons are boating, gumbo, quiet walks, and detailed investigative work. He used to be a P.I. or a police detective or something before he came up here. Now, he does a ton of detective stuff for the Knights. He even lets me sort of help sometimes, hunting through the OpNet for stuff…but I know that he really does all the work again on his own. He’s just that sort of perfectionist.

Speaking of perfectionists, Access is back…but I never really see him except when he surfaces for food. I think that if he could find a way to get nutrition from a computer, he’d never leave his lab. He’s like our second man of mystery.

The first man of mystery, of course, is Jager. He’s been with the Knights since there have been Knights, and he’s kinda like James Bond meets Batman. I mean, he’s really friendly, even to me, but it’s all like it’s a mask he wears; you never really see what’s going on inside, and he’s not about to tell you or me or anyone else. It’s too bad, too, ‘cause I’d like to believe that the friendly guy who kinda pals around with me when he’s not off doing whatever it is Jager does is the real Jager; I’d like to think that him taking me out for ice cream didn’t have some sort of super-secret plot, as The Crusader would put it.

Oh yeah, The Crusader. He’s a Utopian, I guess, but he’s not like any of the Utopians that Dad knew. He’s…well, he’s not real bright, for starters. And he’s hokey. Really hokey. Three Stooges hokey. He does all the stuff that “real” novas won’t do. Like monologues. He loves to do these long monologues with really, really painful mixed metaphors that just make everyone groan. And he’s dead-serious when he does it. But you know something? He’s the only one of the Knights who treats me like I’m really a nova – well, like a super-hero, anyway; that’s how his mind seems to work. “Wolf Girl”, he calls me when he’s talking about my big werewolf form, and he doesn’t mean it mean or as a joke – he really thinks it means I’m a sort of Junior Knight or something. ‘Course, whenever he mentions me coming along “on patrol”, one of the others is pretty quick to shoot it down.

It’s not fair. I mean, yeah, I’m young, but there’s a lot I could do. If Dad was here, I bet he would let me help. I mean, I can be this huge, strong, tough thing…gimme a jumpsuit and let me do something with it. Because I’m really tired of being a kid-sister.

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