#iomd

[goosefightrobinmayor]

Something a little different.

I binge watched The Tick recently, and it spurred me to write Bugbug and friends in that universe.  But before I got to Winnie, I wrote Phillip.

If Phillip Harmonica was a super hero, here is his origin story.

Hatacular was a category zero last time he’d been tested. The whole orphanage had gone to AEGIS as a group when the obvious powers of Kenny Beck had emerged. The boy who would become Hatacular had hated his results at the time, especially when Kenny was adopted by AEGIS operatives.  Now Hatacular was glad that it wasn’t him who got adopted into the AEGIS lifestyle.

The boy- let’s just call him Phillip- Phillip’s family was the nuns and the boys who never seemed to manage to permanently leave the home. Phillip grew up into a hospice nurse- work that he completed with the utmost care and delicacy. His life changed when Mr. Milliner died. Phillip felt bad for the old man. No family members to visit him, but wealthy enough to will himself to Harmony Grove before dementia clouded his every decision.

As Phillip was confirming the lack of pulse, his fingernail caught on the old man’s green leather gloves. The old guy had worn them everyday was here and couldn’t be convinced to remove them. Fine by Phillip- these folks were dying so he might as well let them pass in whatever state of dress or undress they wanted to.

Phillip didn’t think much of it until he clocked out for his break and he saw the gloves again- on his own hands. They were quite irremovable- despite Phillip’s best efforts.

He lost his job, of course. It wasn’t just that he stole the gloves- he couldn’t feel pulses with hands permanently encased in leather. He was done being a nurse. The gloves, however, got him started on his new path as a superhero. They summoned Mr. Milliner’s hat when he snapped his fingers- what appeared to be just an old beat up panama but could fly, follow commands, and cut through metal beams. It could also nest on his head and show him recorded video- including a film made by Mr. Milliner himself.

The fungal alien roots in the gloves embedded deep into his body- into his nerve structure and even his bones. Along with making him a little more resistant to damage and strengthening four of his senses, it gave him control of the amazing alien hat-shaped organism. Mr. Leland Milliner’s assets became a donation to the local animal shelter, but Phillip- if that was really his name- inherited Mr. Milliner’s legacy as Hatacular.

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[goosefightrobinmayor]

titanium version of a carnation pink Shetland pony

Whelp I know I said I was gonna post on Monday, but I ended up just hanging out in fandom town. Then for the last two days, I’ve been in book5 territory.  Yanno, way too spoilery.  So I hit the archives.

Waaaay before the Island of Misfit Dorks was a thing, I had a story about Phillip and Winnie where...they were switched?  Like Winnie was a human being with anxiety and Phillip was under an object shapeshifting curse.  I like Winnie better as a bug and Phillip better as the one uncursed guy trying to hold things together- but I had fun finding this!

Anyway, here’s Phillip as a bike meeting a toddler who thinks he’s a unicorn.

Oh right.  There's a kid here.  And she- she kind of can tell I'm not just an ordinary bike, can't she?  She teeters over to me.  She's too old to be a toddler but the way she moves is not like an adult.   I turn to her.  In this form, my 'eyes' are fixed, sort of to a place between my handlebars.  She looks scared, but only a little. So much for not getting noticed.  I seize up and let myself fall into the wood grass.  It doesn't hurt.  Probably because I'm a well made bike. "Are you tired?"  She asks. I say nothing. "It's okay, Unicorn.  You can sleep," she kneels and stretches out a hand out awkwardly and starts...stroking my frame??  She hums to herself for seconds, but then starts sticking words in "Unicorns, I love them.  Unicorns, I love them.  Uni, uni, unicorns..."

Is she going to stop?  I just saved this girl from a creep but who's going to save me from her?  After the tenth time stating her love for unicorns, and I turn my handlebars and front wheel slightly to look at her.  I only bend in one place but this is a surprisingly flexible form.  "Stop singing!"  I exclaim. She takes her hand away, but doesn't seem startled.  Instead she just puts it on her lap.  "Okay.  Can I see your true form?" "My true...my true form???" I say breathlessly, despite not owning lungs.  Does she know about the curse, then? "Your unicorn form?" My wheel turns at an odd angle, uncomfortable "No." "Why?" "I'm not a unicorn!" She leans back on her heels "Well I think you're a unicorn."  She says confidently. "Well I think you're wrong!"  I growl back. "Maybe you just don't know you're a magic unicorn." I groan "Never mind," I disengage the kickstand and start to circle around her.  "Kid, don't you know not to talk to strangers?" Nancy's eyes are wide.  She stares at my handlebars, then looks down at her feet. "You do, don't you?"  I sigh "That guy was...bad.  I you shouldn't have talked to him." "Okay."  She recites. "Where is your father?" She points down the path "Sleeping." I sigh "I think we should wake him up, okay?  And maybe you two can go home."  Who knows?  If he falls asleep in public when he's supposed to be watching her, maybe the girl isn't any safer with her Dad, but I can't make her entirely my problem.  Winnie still needs my help.  He's not looking at me, but I can see him, nodding and speaking with the old guy. Her eyes shine "You can wake him up?" "You sound surprised?" She looks at her hands "He won't wake up when I do it..." for the first time, a waver sneaks its way into her voice.  Is someone wrong with Nancy's father?  Is he dead or something?  "I tried yelling really, REALLY loud!  Like, REALLY loud!"  She yells, as if to demonstrate, then looks up at me expectantly. Well, guess I'm on the spot.  I backpedal a little.  Actually I don't have coaster breaks so rolling backwards doesn't affect the pedals at all.  That was...that was a little bike pun gone awry, I guess.  And a disgusting display of one, too.  Puns are terrible.   "Okay, okay!"  I say "Take me to your dad, and I'll try to wake him up." "Okay!  Can I ride you there?" Why am I surprised by this question?  It's probably because she's so young.  "You can ride a bike?" She does her little nervous, swaying dance "No, not without training wheels," she admits "but you're a magic bike!  You won't let me fall!" Oh, she's smart.  I want to say no at first, but her request makes me think.  I can't just go out there as a riderless less bike following Nancy- that is bound to draw attention I don't need.  I could maybe become a child-sized piece of clothing but that would mean answering questions from Nancy.  But I can't really follow her to her father and stay in my current form, can I?  And she would get there faster on wheels, which is probably necessary if her Dad in need of resuscitation or something... "Well, no, Nancy," I inform her, and I see her shoulders slump "I'm way too big for you." She shakes her head "I'm a big girl!" But my gears are turning.  Not my bike gears, my metaphorical gears!  In my head!...which I don't have.  God damn all these unintentional bike puns!  It takes me a moment to think of a kid's bike I can remember.  I seem to be drawing a blank.  It occurs to me that I never actually rode a bike myself, but I must have seen other kids riding them? Yes, yes I did!  A mere day ago- when Winnie and I were scouting this very park!  The design comes to mind prominently.  "Can't I think of something better?" "What?"  Nancy is confused by my utterance. I sigh, look at her, and change again.  My wheels shrink in circumference, my frame becomes wider in places, my tubes getting shorter.  Attachments grow on me.  "Wow," Nancy breathes. "Okay, hop on, kid."  I'm much smaller now.  If she thought I was a unicorn before I must resemble the titanium version of a carnation pink Shetland Pony at this point. But I'm a proper size for her.   But she frowns, suddenly hesitant "Can you make your training wheels, go away?  I don't want to have training wheels." Oh right- so that's what those things sticking off of my back wheel are.  "Too bad.  You're too young to have my training wheels off." She shakes her head "Nuh-ah!  Jaclyn Ortiz is six like me, and she has her training wheels off!  I want people to think I'm cool like her!" For Christ's sake!  Are we ever going to find this girl's father?  He's probably already woken up by now.  Unless he's sick.  And dying.  "Believe me, Nancy, you are way cooler than Jaclyn Ortiz.  I mean, Jaclyn Ortiz doesn't get to hang out with magic bikes." She's not buying it "I know, but can't you just-" "No I can't."  The training wheels are firmly screwed in.  It's not like I can just remove parts of myself.  Someone could take them off with a screwdriver, but why would I want that?  It would be like removing my shins or something.  It would probably hurt... "Look, kid, when you befriend a magic bike, you have to accept the magical limits.  The training wheels stay on." She nods, and shrugs, as if to say, oh well, I tried.  "Magic unicorn bike," she corrects me.  She climbs onto me.