by Kayla Bashe
Please turn forward a page
* * *
Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
* * *
You and Malou end up showing off for each other, the way two girls who can casually brush aside the laws of physics are wont to do—hanging onto the bricks, jumping from one side of the balcony to the other. Malou catches the balcony railing and hoists herself up to balance as perfectly as an acrobat.
In that moment, the sheer perfection of her skills, her tightly honed competence, the way the definition of her muscles shift when she moves, is more attractive than anything.
And then she falls.
You feel your heart punching your throat. In an instant, you’re swooping from the balcony, determined to catch her—and you pull up short when you see that she’s caught the railing of the balcony below and swung herself over.
“I fell on purpose,” she says when she sees your face. And “That wasn’t a fall, that was a swing.”
Your expression is still somewhat skeptical.
“Verdie, I do this sort of thing for fun…I’m not used to having someone who will want to catch me, so I have complete trust in the fact that I’m too good to fall by accident.” She smiles a little. “I promise I’ll warn you before I do things from now on, okay?”
Still, you spot her as she climbs back up to your hosts’ apartment’s balcony.
In your dream that night, Malou has made a calendar in which she wears only her underwear, and barely anything over her breasts.
In the December picture, she wears glittery white boxer shorts and pasties that look like snowflakes; in July, a large lei made from real flowers and very short Hawaiian-print swim trunks. In August, a long mermaid-like wig conceals her breasts, and she wears a tiny sarong of glittery fabric.
There is one word to describe her abs, and that one word is wow. Similarly, you suspect that the power of her thighs can be distilled into the concept straddleable.
You spend the whole dream trying to get a copy of the calendar, but monsters made out of brickwork and twisted balcony railings keep snatching all the copies and running away with them on little dark cartoonish legs.
Wow, you think when you wake up. Unsubtle much, subconscious?
But you’re worried that if you were to proposition her, she would agree to it whether or not she actually returned your feelings. Malou looks up to you, depends on you.
If you even suggested such a thing…wouldn’t it be like taking advantage of your position as the squad’s leader?
* * *
End
* * *
Return to beginning
* * *
* * *
* * *
Please turn back a page
* * *
* * *
Please turn forward a page
* * *
Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
* * *
Char runs into your room, followed closely by Shani.
“Verdie, Verdie, we have to show you something—I think we got a power-up!”
“Transform, everyone,” Shani says, bouncing on her heels.
“V for Verdie, V for victory-” you start, but “I am the spirit of victory,” comes out of your mouth instead, clearly enunciated and confident. Adjustments to attack and transformation phrases are one of the major signs of getting a power-up, so that’s terrifically promising. When the winds of your transformation ebb away, you glance in the mirror. You’ve got these beautiful golden-bronze wings, and they go very well with your smart bluish-grey uniform.
That’s when you realize something: your squadmates have wings, too! Char’s wings are made out of magical fire. Shani’s are made of mist, but they look like soft fluffy white feathers, like a swan’s; when the light strikes them, they sparkle like crystal rainbows. Malou’s are made of burnished metal with a sharp edge for killing monsters.
Now everyone will be able to fly with you. C’est incroyable!
“All right, girls—what say we go for a little flight?” You punctuate your statement with a grin.
In an instant, you’ve got the window unlocked and open. Malou perches on the windowsill, then leaps with her usual fearlessness, falling almost to the ground before she opens her wings and swoops upwards.
Shani seems to hover serenely, barely needing to flutter her wings; sparks fly from Char’s with every wingbeat.
You launch yourself from the window and join your friends in the air, where they’re laughing, marveling.
Together, you’ve won out over unhappiness, over loneliness, and that is the greatest victory of all.
I have learned so much from wasting time on fear. It is a ghost I refuse to be haunted by, wreckage I can rebuild into peace and healing and better days.
I will tell fear to shut up, and I will keep going.
I am resilient.
—from the journal of Verdie Vestri, Castle V.
* * *
End
* * *
Return to beginning
* * *
* * *
* * *
Please turn back a page
* * *
* * *
Please turn forward a page
* * *
Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
* * *
“People who think that models don’t eat are the victim of old ideas. I mean, especially if you’re a magical girl, you have to eat enough to keep yourself healthy!” Char goes off on an impassioned tirade about how the modeling industry used to be a place where old men exploited vulnerable young girls. Everything she says just has so much fire in it—and with good reason, because some of the anecdotes about what life was like a thousand years ago are just horrifying. There’s just something so enthralling about a girl who can speak with such charisma and passion…
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the fast-food place’s window, and you realize you’re not only leaning your elbows on the table to cup your chin in your hands, but staring at her in this ridiculously lovelorn way, swooning with your eyes and smiling goofily. Quickly, you sit up straight and get a hold of yourself. When your food comes, it’s almost a relief, because you have something to look at that’s not “the way that Char’s eyes shine.”
When you get back to the apartment, Char heads toward your bedroom, then stops abruptly. “Oh, wait.”
“What is it?”
“I need to take off my makeup,” she says, laughing quietly.
“Do you want me to wait for you in our room?”
“No, it’s okay. You can watch—I trust you to see me without my face on.”
Char prides herself on her flawless complexion, so she doesn’t wear much makeup…just false eyelashes, orange-red lipstick, brightly colored eyeshadow, and a bit of highlighter on her cheekbones. She carefully peels the lashes from her eyelids, then wipes the rest of her face clean. With bare skin, without her glamorous armor, she seems almost naked. The fact that she’s letting her see you like this…does that mean she trusts you?
“Verdie, tomorrow, if you want, I could teach you how to do up your face like this. False eyelashes are a lot easier to put on then you might expect.”
Char’s soft fingers near your face, stroking shimmer into your cheeks…You agree eagerly and go to bed with a smile.
* * *
End
* * *
Return to beginning
* * *
* * *
* * *
Please turn back a page
* * *
* * *
Please turn forward a page
* * *
Magic Resilient, by Kayla Bashe
* * *
“V for Verdie, V for victory-” you start, but “I am the spirit of victory,” comes out of your mouth instead, clearly enunciated and confident. Adjustments to attack and transformation phrases are one of the major signs of getting a power-up, so that’s terrifically promising. When the winds of your transformation ebb away, you
glance in the mirror. You’ve got these beautiful golden-bronze wings, and they go very well with your smart bluish-grey uniform.
That’s when you realize something: your squadmates have wings, too! Char’s wings are made out of magical fire. Shani’s are made of mist, but they look like soft fluffy white feathers, like a swan’s; when the light strikes them, they sparkle like crystal rainbows. Malou’s are made of burnished metal with a sharp edge for killing monsters.
Now everyone will be able to fly with you. C’est incroyable!
“All right, girls—what say we go for a little flight?” You punctuate your statement with a grin.
In an instant, you’ve got the window unlocked and open. Malou perches on the windowsill, then leaps with her usual fearlessness, falling almost to the ground before she opens her wings and swoops upwards.
Shani seems to hover serenely, barely needing to flutter her wings; sparks fly from Char’s with every wingbeat.
You launch yourself from the window and join your friends in the air, where they’re laughing, marveling.
Together, you’ve won out over unhappiness, over loneliness, and that is the greatest victory of all.
I have learned so much from wasting time on fear. It is a ghost I refuse to be haunted by, wreckage I can rebuild into peace and healing and better days.
I will tell fear to shut up, and I will keep going.
I am resilient.
—from the journal of Verdie Vestri, Castle V.
* * *
End
* * *
Return to beginning
* * *
* * *
* * *
Please turn back a page
* * *
* * *
Please turn forward a page
* * *
